At the conclusion of the Yom Kippur War, Golda Meir (Helen Mirren), the prime minister of Israel, testified before the Agranat Commission to explain why the country was caught by a surprise attack from Egypt at the start of the conflict.  The Arab Coalition waged their opening gambit on October 6, 1973, at the Suez Canal, with the goal of reclaiming the entire Sinai Peninsula from Israel.  She explains to the chairman (Henry Goodman) and other Justices, the reasoning behind her leadership, the intel coming in from her advisers, and the precarious place that her professional relationship with US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger (Liev Schreiber) – who was concerned about the potential of an oil crisis back in the States – all played into her leadership of the country in a time of war. 

Guy Nattiv directs Golda from Nicholas Martin’s script; a 100-minute biopic that really homes in on 19 specific days of conflict during Meir’s 5 years as prime minister.  Released by Bleecker Street Media in the United States after its premiere at Berlinale which was abuzz with chatter about Mirren’s transformative performance, the film is a taught combination of war drama and character study.  With Jasper Wolf providing some flourishes to the camera movement and placement, and Arik Lahav-Leibovich’s editing which assembles the film to have a propulsive beat behind every scene, Golda does not feel like a dusty old biopic, but it does not quite leave a strong impression, either. 

It is impossible to look at Golda and not mention the transformative performance by Mirren.  With hair and make-up led by Karen Hartley and prosthetics designed by Suzi Battersby, the actress is unrecognizable under the set lights.  Mirren does not get off easy, though, and she delivers a strong performance as the embattled leader facing multiple crises both in and away from public view.  As the first female prime minister of the country, she always enters the room – a good ol’ boys club – playing from behind the eight ball as seen through the subtle refusal of her colleagues to offer the same respect of standing up as they do the other high-powered members of her cabinet.  It is not done as an act of hostility towards her, but it is one more barrier to success that she must navigate on top of everything else.  Mirren’s performance is a study of the isolation of leadership.  With so much responsibility to her people and country, not to mention her own deteriorating health, the pressure keeps steadily increasing for Golda, and Mirren’s performance grows increasingly tired, worn out from the constant trials, but notably never lethargic.   

As a war movie, Golda takes a very unique approach to how it chooses to show conflict.  Because it focuses more on the diplomacy of war instead of the boots on the ground fighting, almost all of the battle sequences are witnessed from the safety of mission control.  This is achieved predominantly by listening in to the field radio correspondence, but also occasionally looking at satellite imagery, and in the lead up to a pivotal crossing, a camera feed from the battlefield.  It is a very interesting and effective approach to putting Golda in the middle of combat even without stepping onto the battlefield, and it is here where Wolf’s camera tricks and the sound department supervised by Niv Adiri really shine.  The camera tracks up and over Golda from behind so that we are looking down on the top of her head while the sounds of bombs and gunfire rattle across the auditorium.  Everyone is looking towards her for leadership, but in these moments she is powerless as she hears her people being slaughtered. In this way, Golda becomes somewhat of a psychological horror that places audiences into the overwhelming and terrifying assaultive stimulation of being at the forefront of a war compounded by the gravity of suffering loss after loss. 

Golda is not an exceptionally deep film, but it does pose some barriers to audience members who come to the film without deeper knowledge of the Yom Kippur War already in their heads.  It is not a fully fair criticism to levy against the film as it is a piece of history instead of IP, but it is an odd approach to take in the writing as it does not seem to be digging deeply into the nitty gritty details of the conflict; either the emotional toll or the hard and fast facts of the matter.  The overall story can still be followed, but it will feel rather thin for audiences who are not up to snuff on the history of the region so, at times, Golda can be a somewhat frustrating and testing film to watch.  It is a hard task for any screenwriter working in history to establish a compelling narrative arc, figure out how much they expect their audience to know coming in, and fill in any necessary exposition in a natural way.  Martin’s script stumbles here, especially when trying to balance the War with Golda’s own war against cancer. As a historical thriller – something it very much has in its identity despite its roots as a biopic – it becomes a little loose and muddied in its ultimate focus. 

Overall, Golda still has a lot to be admired between the performance and the ambition to be more than a made-for-tv historical adaptation.  Nattiv shows a commitment to a vision of how he wants to tell this story and it comes across on screen very well.  There is still an energy about it that courses through the narrative and makes it exciting even when the pacing on the page staggers.  The film does not go too deep into the story, though, and may leave many wanting more from it, but as far as biopics go Nattiv elevates the material from the textbooks and utilizes the magic and allure of filmmaking in bringing this story to screen. No one will come away an expert on the Yom Kippur War or Golda from watching this film, but it does not feel like it is just regurgitating a Wikipedia article, either. There is a clear creative inspiration that guided Nattiv et al. along this path.