Jellyfish Starring: Sarah Adler, Gera Sandler, Ma-nenita De Latorre, Noa Knoller Directors: Etgar Keret and Shira Geffen The film: Neither of Jellyfish's co-directors is a fully fledged filmmaker. Etgar Keret is better known as a writer whose collections of short stories have made him one of the brightest lights of Israeli literature. And the bulk of Shira Geffen's work lies with the theatre. Their innocence has proved to be an enormous asset, however. Their feature film debut, comprising three tenuously interweaving tales, is filled with lyrical moments, their observations about relationships conveyed with visual panache. Geffen, who wrote the screenplay, and Keret are artful in their vision, but Jellyfish never feels contrived. That there's no grand convergence of the three strands speaks volumes of their audacity. All the protagonists meet in the first scene, the wedding (right) of Michael (Gera Sandler) and Keren (Noa Knoller), where Batya (Sarah Adler) is seen serving food while Filipino helper Joy (Ma-nenita De Latorre) attends as a guest's companion. The stories then proceed on their own. Keren breaks a leg in a freak accident and is forced to forgo a honeymoon in the Caribbean for a few days at a drab hotel on Tel Aviv's coast. The trip opens up the schisms between the newly-weds. Meanwhile Batya, who is struggling to cope with a recent break-up, the deteriorating state of her flat and the indifference of her estranged parents, takes in a young girl who emerges from the sea, and embarks on a search when the child disappears again. And Joy tries to take care of Malka (Zaharira Harifai), a truculent pensioner, while longing for the son she left behind in the Philippines in order to earn a living in Israel. What makes these seemingly ordinary stories shine is the imaginative and surreal moments Keret and Geffen instil into the film: Michael's encounter with a mysterious, poetry-writing woman leads to a greater tragedy than merely an opportunity for the young husband to go astray. Keren's own poem of visions about ships at sea is juxtaposed with the image of an iron sailing over Malka's clothes, an apt metaphor for Joy's hopes of returning home across oceans. And then there are the scenes focusing on Batya, probably the most dreamlike of them all: the crumbling walls and leaking ceiling in her apartment mirror her mental state. And the child she discovers (and then loses) is revealed as a reflection of her own childhood experiences, when she nearly drowned because her parents were busy sniping at each other. The way a policeman folds a missing persons' bulletin into a paper boat and blows it across his desk, saying the vanished individuals are like people 'lost at sea', is perhaps one of the most poetic moments in the extraordinary film. The extras: True to Zeitgeist Films' style, a remarkable production begets the barest of bonus features, a 20-minute interview with the directors about the origins of the story, their work with the cast, and with each other. (On and off work, Keret and Geffen are known as the golden couple of Israel's art scene.) The verdict: Great storytelling, poetic imagery and much empathy.