Movie Review
The simple fact is that Eleanor and Bessie were meant to be great friends.
The two women met and laughed together as young girls. They saw each other through marriages, the raising of families and the death of loved ones. And in their latter years, they were still dear enough chums that they could live in a small apartment together. There was never an angry word. Each day was jovial and pleasant, each moment fitting comfortably into the next like slipping into a pair of a well-worn shoes.
When Bessie died, though, it was a horrible loss for Eleanor. Their apartment, as small as it was, suddenly felt huge and empty. So, Eleanor decided to head back to New York City and move in with her daughter (Lisa) and grandson (Max).
Even at the age of 94, however, spitfire Eleanor is not one to sit back and knit quietly in a corner. She has always been fast with a wisecrack and eager for activity. And she isn’t about to stop now. So she aims her quick-quipping gunsights at her daughter. That’s when Lisa, while ducking barbs, insists that mom should find some new friends her own age. So Lisa sends her mom over to the local Jewish center.
Eleanor isn’t Jewish, but she had married a Jew. So she knows her way around a synagogue and a social center. Soon, she accidentally stumbles into a meetup for Jewish Holocaust survivors. And before she can slip back out, she’s warmly welcomed and asked to share her Holocaust story—which she doesn’t actually have, of course.
She does, though, have something she can share: Bessie’s story. You see, Bessie had shared her own painful story of the Holocaust over late night cups of tea, sometimes after waking from bad dreams. So Eleanor recounts those stirring, emotional memories with a tear in her eye. But … she tells her beloved friend’s story as if it were her own.
Those heartfelt words help Eleanor connect with the kind people in the survivors group. Yes, it was all something of a, well, fib. But Bessie’s memories are dear to Eleanor, and they make her think about reconnecting with her faith. They also open the door to connecting with a visiting college student named Nina, who’s currently grieving the loss of her mother.
Nina tearfully begs Eleanor to let her use her story in a college paper she’s writing.
Eleanor has no intention of doing so. But this poor girl is so wounded and so moved by Bessie’s story. Perhaps the deception could go on just a little bit longer, if just to help this hurting young woman.
The problem is, deceptions have a way of running wild. Even well-meant ones.
And it’s hard to admit … to a lie.