While capoeira, a form of martial arts that incorporates dance, acrobatics, and music that originated among slaves in Brazil hundreds of years ago, might seem like the polar opposite of the ultra-Orthodox religious observance that characterizes life in Bnei Brak, one young man has made it his life’s mission to integrate these two cultures. He is the subject of a new documentary, Rabbi Capoeira, by Barak Heymann.
The film is showing throughout July and August at theaters in the Lev Cinemas chain and other venues around the country.
A full list of screenings of the movie can be found at heymannfilms.com/movie/rabbi-capoeira/ In the fall, it will be shown on Yes Docu on television.
Heymann has worked with his brother, Tomer Heymann, as a producer and director on many of the best documentaries made in Israel, among them High Maintenance, Who’s Gonna Love Me Now?, and Comrade Dov.
He first became aware of Miki Hayat, the rabbi of the title, when Hayat contacted him, looking to publicize his work as a capoeira teacher in the ultra-Orthodox enclave just outside Tel Aviv.
Heymann was instantly intrigued when he met Hayat, who has become a master at capoeira, which he says in the film “saved his life” when he was bullied and facing crises, and feels driven to teach this martial art to as many as he can.
Hayat founded the Haredim LaKetzev (Ultra-Orthodox In Rhythm) capoeira studio in Bnei Brak because he feels capoeira can help people both spiritually and physically. He describes capoeira as “a kind of martial art that was hidden in a dance.
But most importantly, this is fun.” Children and young people, both male and female, need an outlet to express themselves through movement in the haredi world, which can lift their spirits and help them cope with life’s difficulties.
Lifting people's spirits through martial art
He remembers the pain of getting slapped by teachers and not knowing what to do with his feelings of failure, until he discovered this martial art.
It is unusual for someone in this community to even know what capoeira is, let alone have mastered it enough to be a teacher.
At a screening at the Lev Smadar theater in Jerusalem on Tuesday night, Hayat said he comes from a family that was not originally observant.
“I was already born a penguin,” he said, referring to the black and white clothes that the ultra-Orthodox wear, but his older siblings grew up secular. One of his uncles went to Brazil on a post-army trip and learned capoeira. After he returned, Hayat said, “Whenever I was kicked out of yeshiva, and was wandering the streets, I would go to see him and he would be doing these capoeira movements. And I told him, ‘Teach me that. That’s what I want to do.’”
Whenever he was not at yeshiva, he would try to practice and would go to capoeira groups in the Tel Aviv area, which included both men and women.
“I remember going to a group with both guys and girls, with my black hat and black coat, the first time they said you have to do a kick, I moved my leg and tore my pants. That was very embarrassing. But they helped me feel comfortable, they received me very warmly.”
Eventually, he was kicked out of yeshiva permanently because he was skipping his studies both to practice and to earn money for classes. He credits the discipline of capoeira with keeping him out of trouble, as others thrown out of the yeshiva world would try to tempt him to take drugs. “But I would tell them no, because I had to work out later.”
THE MOVIE recounts his uphill battle to get the larger Bnei Brak community to accept a capoeira studio, a hugely difficult task in a world that views anything other than the strictest and most traditional Jewish observance with suspicion and often hostility.
But in addition to his martial arts skills, Hayat is a figure with outsize charisma, which is what is needed to make such a quixotic venture succeed. He works tirelessly, alongside his business partner, Revital, a divorced grandmother who is more strictly observant than he and can anticipate the objections of the community.
She is also demanding in every way possible, and more financially prudent, as Hayat struggles to make ends meet, taking out loans and working tirelessly to attract donations.
As he builds the studio and expands it into a gym, which he says is the first in Bnei Brak, he knows that at any minute, zealots can burn it to the ground or command their followers not to frequent it.
In addition to the financial burdens of running such an enterprise, Hayat pays a price in terms of not being there for his family. But it is a necessary sacrifice that he hopes will “shape the community’s norms” and introduce awareness of how physical fitness, musicality, and spirituality can connect.
He also feels that it is important that the capoeira he has introduced brings together people from all streams of Orthodoxy. He speaks often in the film about the difficulties faced by those who have trouble fitting in to the demands of yeshiva life and feels that capoeira can improve their self-esteem.
“Everyone here is individual, special, and important in this colorful microcosm we have here,” he says.
Two interesting points came up in the Q&A following the Jerusalem screening. One was when Hayat was asked about haredi participation in the military, since as a rule, the ultra-Orthodox do not serve and proposed legislation to draft many more of them is one of the most contentious political issues.
He noted that several of his students, albeit those who are from the least restrictive haredi families, have joined the army and that three of those interviewed in the film are currently serving in the war against Hamas in Gaza.
He said he was not sure whether the idea of mass haredi enlistment in the army was practical but said that he thought the problem could be solved by “coming together and talking, not through newspapers and not through television, but through meeting and talking, what hurts and why, and how to come closer and what to do.”
Heymann, who is secular, was asked why he chose to make a documentary about this community.
He replied that after he spent time with Hayat and his students, he was deliberating whether to go ahead with the project when he spoke about it to a good friend who is on the Left.
“I sent her a picture of these cute kids practicing with capoeira with Miki, children, and young people, looking really sweet. She didn’t know anything about them, except that they are haredim in Bnei Brak. And I’ll never forget her answer: ‘Just seeing them does me harm, makes me feel complete and utter revulsion.’”
They talked more and the woman said she hated all haredim, even though she had never met any.
“And at that moment, I knew I had to make the movie,” he said, to applause from the religiously mixed audience.