"The Bibi Files," directed by Alexis Bloom, dives deep into the heart of a leader whose persona has become almost inseparable from the nation he governs. Through a gripping mix of revealing interviews and leaked interrogation footage, Bloom crafts a character study that's as fascinating as it is unsettling. Benjamin Netanyahu emerges not just as a politician fighting to survive but as a symbol of how ego can turn a leader into a threat to a nation's stability.
The documentary's narrative structure is flawless. Bloom builds her case with the precision of an investigator and the pacing of a seasoned storyteller, letting the facts speak for themselves. Over 115 minutes, the film lays bare a leader obsessed with his own image, wielding Israel's flag not as a unifying symbol but as a shield to protect his position. The claim that Netanyahu perpetuates the Gaza conflict as a ploy to avoid imprisonment on corruption charges is presented with a rare balance: it's supported by evidence and nuance, yet it doesn't shy away from the complexities of the geopolitical landscape.
Bloom's greatest strength lies in weaving the personal and the political together. The leaked interrogation footage captures Netanyahu at his rawest-defensive, theatrical, constantly framing his actions as sacrifices for Israel's greater good. This juxtaposition of the man and the myth feels almost like a Greek epic, with Netanyahu cast as a tragic hero whose inability to separate his survival from his nation's puts both at risk. His relentless declarations of innocence, coupled with grandiose claims about "Israel's best interests," skirt the edge of comedy, but the real-world consequences of his actions are devastatingly serious.
One of the most intriguing aspects of the documentary is its portrayal of Sara Netanyahu. While Benjamin commands the spotlight, Sara looms as a silent but insatiable force behind the scenes. Testimonies from former associates paint her as someone whose influence extends far beyond the domestic sphere, shaping political decisions through extravagant demands and subtle manipulations. Even in her limited on-screen moments, Sara's presence evokes comparisons to classic tragic archetypes like Medea. Bloom doesn't just suggest Sara's pivotal role in Netanyahu's power dynamics; she raises unsettling questions about how power is wielded and distributed within their inner circle.
Visually, "The Bibi Files" is austere but effective. The editing is straightforward, allowing the footage to speak for itself, while the understated score maintains tension without overwhelming the viewer. Bloom steers clear of sensationalism, trusting the weight of the information to carry the film. This minimalist aesthetic mirrors the gravity of the subject matter and amplifies the urgency of the documentary's message.
At its core, the film isn't just a critique of Netanyahu but a sharp examination of how power can erode democracy. Bloom highlights how Netanyahu's decisions have left Israel vulnerable-not just in terms of physical security but institutionally-by prioritizing his family's interests over the nation's collective well-being. It's a sobering warning about the cost of leaders who see themselves as indispensable, turning nations into reflections of their own ambitions.
"The Bibi Files" demands attention and reflection. It's both an exposé and a political tragedy unfolding in real time. Alexis Bloom delivers a cinematic piece that goes beyond mere factual reporting, urging viewers to consider the dangers of conflating leaders with myths and governments with dynasties. The result is a film as provocative as it is necessary.
