Transmitzvah Is A Unique Coming-Of-Age

At 13, every Jewish boy becomes Bar Mitzvah. But in Daniel Burman’s Netflix Original Transmitzvah, when Rubén Singman turned 13, Rubén asked to be called to the Torah as a Bat Mitzvah instead, with the name Mumy Singer. Arón, the head of the house, denied the request, not because he couldn’t stomach the idea of his child being trans, but simply because he was hung up on the name Rubén being so special to him. Mumy ran away that day and didn’t return until long after she was already a famous pop superstar, famous for singing the Yiddish and Hebrew classics she grew up entertaining her family with.

The next time Mumy (Penélope Guerrero) returns home to Argentina, she and her brother Edwardo (Juan Minujín) find themselves on a long and winding journey to help Mumy have her Bat Mitzvah after all, or perhaps, even, her “Transmitzvah.” The story is a bit meandering and has several side plots that never fully conclude, but the journey itself is precious, and its conclusion is deeply satisfying.

There are plenty of movies about bar and bat mitzvahs. There has never been one like this. It’s not the poorly lipsynced pop anthems. Although the Mumy dancers add a lot of joy to every interlude they randomly show up dancing in. And it’s not the absurd comedy moments like randomly meeting an ancient Jewish mystic or having the most serious conversation of the movie in the Jewish Center’s swimming pool with silly-looking goggles on Edwardo’s face. You can find these elements in just about any coming-of-age story.

What makes Transmitzvah so unique is that it’s about choosing your own destiny. Everyone wants to put Mumy into one box or another as a bar or bat mitzvah (or, in one case, a b’nei mitzvah). But no single moniker fits how she feels about herself and the inner child she’s also trying to heal. Her journey to figuring out exactly what kind of coming-of-age ceremony fits all of her needs is more than most Jewish children will ever have the chance to experience, and frankly, we should be taking notes.

The biggest criticism that can be given to Transmitzvah is that it’s all over the place. After a wonderful opening scene set in the past, the movie uses funky editing to blur the lines of sequentialism. But regularly, it becomes a confusing distraction. It’s hard to tell what happened in the past, what’s happening right now, and when two intercut sequences are happening simultaneously or at two totally separate points. The movie is surreal, so this editing trick is trying to play with that. But it falls flat most of the time.

So does the lipsyncing. While the first song is a ton of fun, especially when the younger Mumy sings it, the older Mumy feels like she’s never even close to enunciating the words at the same pace as the music track. A whole song and dance number to a traditional melody of “Hinei Mah Tov” feels like a downright bizarre choice for the singer, given the Yiddishkeit of the earlier song that clearly made her famous. She has no emotion while barely looking like she’s singing that song, even if the dancing and the costumes are grand.

The costumes, sets, locations, and lighting are always grand, though. Transmitzvah is probably one of Netflix’s best-lit movies in a long time. The neon illumination of the family clothing store is gorgeous. There’s a beautiful purple reflection in the swimming pool scene. A gorgeous stained glass window sits behind an incredibly annoying stereotype of a liberal rabbi. And the outdoor lighting is simply stunning when the movie goes on location at the end.

There deserves to be just a little more attention paid to the ongoing and truncated plot between Mumy’s partner Sergio (Gustavo Bassani) and her mother (Alejandra Flechner), who get left behind physically while Mumy and Edwardo are on their journey. These two bond back at the shop, giving Flechner, in particular, the chance to deliver perfect line after perfect line. But their plot feels like it deserved a bit more conclusive of an ending. Especially given how out of left field the main plot’s final act feels.

The conclusion of Transmitzvah is as far from how you could expect it as it gets, and yet, it works because it nails home the movie’s heavy theme of personal choice. A line from this movie about how God doesn’t care about the details will probably live with me for the rest of my life; it was that impactful. No matter how many strange twists or turns the movie takes, it’s a journey well worth taking.

Transmitzvah is streaming now on Netflix.