Nadav Lapid’s latest film, “Yes!”, arrives not as a gentle inquiry but as a sustained cinematic shout, a biting piece of political satire aimed directly at the heart of the contemporary Israeli-Palestinian situation. It constructs its narrative around an artistic couple, Y and Yasmine, who find their pathway through a society in turmoil is paved with continuous acts of acquiescence, particularly resonant in the period following the October 7 attacks.
The film’s confrontational spirit and aggressive visual language are immediately apparent, promising a journey through a landscape of bitter humor and raw, unapologetic energy. This is storytelling that doesn’t just present a scenario; it hurls it at the audience.
An Anthem for Abasement
The narrative centres on Y, a jazz musician played by Ariel Bronz, and Yasmine, a dancer portrayed by Efrat Dor. Their early scenes establish a life of performative survival: they engage in outlandish cabaret routines for Israel’s wealthy elite and participate in sex work, all while attempting to raise their infant child.
Their existence is a study in charismatic self-degradation, a peculiar dance on the edge of societal acceptance. The story’s engine truly ignites when Y is approached by Avinoam, a surreal PR operative whose head can morph into a video screen, with a commission: to compose a new national anthem for Israel, bankrolled by a shadowy billionaire. This proposition forces their unstated philosophy of “yes” – a deliberate capitulation to the dominant order – into sharp focus.
We witness them contort themselves to please the powerful, including a particularly unsettling sequence involving an older woman and amplified slurping sounds, which pushes their submission into the realm of the physically grotesque.
The filmmakers painstakingly chart the corrosive effects of this constant assent, exploring how their moral and psychological boundaries blur in the name of livelihood, and perhaps a warped sense of stability. The depiction of Tel Aviv’s ruling class is one of unadulterated decadence, forming a stark, almost violent contrast to the quiet desperation of the couple’s private life.
Lapid’s Lens: A Satire Sharpened on Outrage
Nadav Lapid’s directorial method in “Yes!” can be described as a form of controlled demolition, a “kamikaze” approach to political satire that refuses to soften its blows. The film’s visual storytelling is expressionistic and intentionally jarring; Shaï Goldman’s cinematography is a character in itself, with a kinetic energy that frequently veers into unsettling swoops and destabilizing angles, mirroring the protagonists’ chaotic journey.
Sound design is weaponized, amplifying the absurdity and discomfort of key moments to an almost unbearable degree. A clear nod to George Grosz’s painting ‘Pillars of Society’ signals the film’s artistic lineage, embracing a heightened, grotesque representation of societal decay. The narrative is punctuated by a series of calculated provocations: a truly disturbing music video for Y’s anthem features children singing chillingly vengeful lyrics – a sequence made more potent by the revelation that it incorporates an actual video, with faces altered by AI.
Israel’s elite are portrayed as almost cartoonishly decadent and indifferent. The commissioning of Y’s patriotic song by a Russian oligarch adds another layer of pointed commentary. Lapid’s camera does not shy away from the stark reality of the conflict, at times incorporating the sight of smoke rising from a bombarded Gaza in the background, or staging a pivotal encounter on the ‘Hill of Love’ overlooking the besieged territory.
It becomes clear that “Yes!” is engineered not for audience comfort but to ignite debate and challenge perceptions from multiple angles, examining the precarious and often compromised position of the artist in a state of perpetual crisis.
The Weight of ‘Yes’ in a World of No Easy Answers
Beneath the aggressive stylings, “Yes!” grapples with profound questions about Israeli identity and the psychological toll of living in a state of constant conflict, particularly after the October 7 attacks. The film meticulously explores the central motif of capitulation – the act of saying “yes” – as a fraught survival mechanism, revealing the immense burden it places upon Y and Yasmine. Y’s internal struggles are central to the narrative’s latter half.
These are amplified by his reconnection with Lea, a former lover portrayed by Naama Preis. Lea, now a translator privy to official documents, delivers a devastating, unvarnished monologue detailing the Hamas atrocities. This encounter, set against the tense backdrop of the Gaza border, serves as a brutal narrative pivot, forcing Y, and the audience, to confront the raw horror that underpins the societal dysfunction.
Lapid offers a deeply critical and pessimistic vision of the situation in Israel and the perilous choices confronting its artists, suggesting that art itself is highly susceptible to compromise and co-option by powerful forces. The viewing experience is intentionally demanding, offering no easy resolutions or catharsis.
The director’s intense personal engagement with his subject matter is palpable, as is his unsparingly critical stance towards his homeland. “Yes!” ultimately serves as a stark commentary on how individuals and societies can normalize the unthinkable, leaving the audience to ponder the terrifyingly simple binary of “yes” or “no,” and the shrinking space for dissent in a world demanding compliance.
Yes! premiered on May 22, 2025, in the Directors’ Fortnight section at the Cannes Film Festival.
Full Credits
Director: Nadav Lapid
Writer: Nadav Lapid
Producers: Judith Lou Lévy, Hugo Sélignac, Antoine Lafon, Thomas Alfandari, Janine Teerling, Marios Piperides, Janine Jackowski, Maren Ade, Jonas Dornbach, Olivier Père
Cast: Ariel Bronz, Efrat Dor, Naama Preis, Aleksei Serebryakov, Sharon Alexander, Idit Teperson, Pablo Pillaud-Vivien
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Shaï Goldman
Editor: Nili Feller
Composers: Sleeping Giant, Omer Klein
The Review
Yes!
Nadav Lapid’s "Yes!" is a cinematic Molotov cocktail, a fiercely intelligent and deeply unsettling satire that demands its audience confront the agonizing compromises of art and existence in a fractured society. Its aggressive style and unflinching gaze make for a challenging, often uncomfortable, but undeniably potent viewing experience. This is confrontational filmmaking at its most provocative, a bitter pill coated in ferocious artistry, leaving a lasting, disquieting imprint.
PROS
- Fearless and incisive political satire.
- Nadav Lapid's bold, confrontational directorial vision.
- Compelling performances that embody moral complexities.
- Unflinching exploration of artistic compromise and societal capitulation.
- Strikingly kinetic cinematography and potent sound design.
CONS
- Relentlessly abrasive style may prove overwhelming for some.
- Its bleakness can feel suffocating at times.
- The narrative's confrontational nature might alienate viewers seeking subtlety.
- Pacing in later sections feels deliberately de-energized, which could frustrate.
