Review: Limited in scope, ‘The Road Between Us’ depicts an Israeli family’s fight to survive Oct. 7

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.

Documentaries have, not surprisingly, become a hearts-and-minds front in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with filmmakers from all sides trying to get their stories out that bring into particular focus a destructive war’s realities. And needless to say, in our current information ecosystem, context still means everything.

Canadian documentarian Barry Avrich may have believed that his new film “The Road Between Us: The Ultimate Rescue” — detailing a retired Israeli Defense Force general’s incredible effort to save his family from a besieged kibbutz during the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023 — was straightforward enough to avoid an uproar. But Avrich got one anyway when this year’s Toronto International Film Festival scheduled his film, then disinvited it (footage clearance rights were cited), only to put it back in the lineup after widespread criticism — and not just from Jewish groups. It went on to win the festival’s People’s Choice award.

However, in the wake of Israel’s relentless pummeling of Gaza, Avrich’s film won’t be to every person’s taste. Its intended audience will see a propulsive narrative of disciplined heroism, the kind of situation usually hatched by screenwriters hoping to attract Liam Neeson’s particular set of skills. And in spotlighting grandfather Noam Tibon’s self-appointed mission to reach his loved ones, Avrich grasps that too, offering up “The Road Between Us” as an immersive action-thriller. It interweaves detail-driven interviews, including Tibon’s own guided tour of his route that day, with footage from Hamas bodycams, security cameras and dashcams.

On the morning of the attacks, Amir Tibon, his wife, Miri, and their two children were at home in the Nahal Oz kibbutz, close to the Gaza border. Retreating to their safe room after hearing gunfire just outside their walls, Amir texted his dad, Noam, in Tel Aviv. From there, the rangy, focused Noam’s steady first-person account takes center stage. He says his first instinct was to make his way south to the kibbutz, a journey down roads he would soon see littered with bodies, wrecked cars and terrified people seeking shelter. But also, initially, to his surprise, empty of a military presence.

A common refrain among the interviewees — including Noam’s wife, Gali, who accompanied him for part of that day — is shock at the delayed response of their country’s vaunted security forces. It sounds like something that a movie digging into a tragic day of sustained violence might want to explore, but Avrich’s dedication to his Rambo narrative of survival means these comments lie there, suspended between condemnation and explanation. When Gali, toward the end, links Israel’s failures that day to a subsequent response that smacks of “revenge,” the movie feels close to addressing the unspoken. Then it doesn’t, and we’re left trying to reconcile a legitimately gripping tale of one family’s ordeal with what we know about the suffering that’s occurred during the two years of war since.

The movie ultimately treats us like adrenaline junkies, assuming we lack curiosity. Avrich has said the movie isn’t a political statement, despite such unexamined specifics as the kibbutz’s need for safe rooms in every home or prison-like fencing. What emerges, then, is a story without history, within simplified parameters, meant to convey an embattled neighborhood without mentioning certain neighbors, free of any inconvenient perspectives. We should always remember Oct. 7, “The Road Between Us” justifiably articulates. Compartmentalizing the tale, however, feels like a disservice to a much broader tragedy.