The Bibi Files

It had its première at DOC NYC and has won praise around the world, but its producers had to go through a court battle just to get it seen in Israel. The Bibi Files is a film whose subject, Benjamin Netanyahu, has done everything in his power to stop its release. It doesn’t take long to see why.

Thanks to generative AI and a growing cynicism surrounding media of all kinds, we’re now far from the days when a group of meddling kids could catch a wrongdoer on camera and end his career. These days much more is required in order to convince, but this film still delivers. It centres on a series of police interrogation videos, some of which feature Netanyahu himself, some members of his staff, and some his wife Sara, a liability in stilettos and gaudy, overpriced jewellery whose dramatic gestures do little to counter the rumours about her fondness for champagne. She’s the one who directed his early career, some of the film’s contributors claim, and it’s the closest he gets to a defence – but that would always be difficult, given how much of what might be considered incriminating emerges from his own mouth.

Those other contributors are interviewed to help build up a profile of the Israeli prime minister, which actually forms the bulk of the running time. This ensures that international viewers and younger Israeli viewers have the context they need to make sense of key aspects of the interrogations. There are also brief diversions into other aspects of the country’s history, such as the imprisonment of former prime minister Ehud Olmert (himself the subject of a documentary back in 2020), and its legal system, whose lack of truck with political corruption will make many UK and US viewers envious.

In most countries, the personal gains for which those with power are willing to sacrifice principle are depressingly similar, petty and vulgar. This film is not a trial and viewers can of course draw their own conclusions, but we see numerous photographs of the Netanyahus dining on the sort of dishes valued more for their rarity and price than their actual flavour. Sara boasts about meeting heads of state, greeting lines of soldiers and bringing “a whole lot of respect” to Israel. Her husband likes expensive cigars. There’s nothing wrong with that, he says, and he’s entitled to receive gifts from friends. He’s visibly on edge when talking about it, however. A former member of his small inner circle remembers “boxes and boxes” of them arriving, gift giving on an industrial level.

All this might sound petty in itself – the man they call Bibi is currently on trial for corruption of power, not for a lack of taste. it becomes rather more serious, however, when one reflects on what his friends – including powerful business owners and other heads of state – might have expected in return for their various favours. More serious still is what he might have done to protect himself as questions began to be asked. Why, exactly, has Shaul Elovich allowed him such free rein over the influential Walla news website, so important to attracting the youth vote? What happened between him and spy turned film producer Arnon Milchan? And to what extent has his enthusiasm for attacking Gaza been influenced by a desire to delay the trial that could lead to his downfall?

In the interrogation sessions, gentle though they are by normal standards, this famously smooth operator spends a lot of time of banging on the table and shouting that other people are liars, only afterwards pulling himself together and recovering his charm. “By the way, can you drop the word bribe?” he asks the police on the way out.

One of the assistants, recounting her part in matters, sheds tears which seem entirely genuine. A bodyguard doesn’t hide his resentment, saying that he watched the Netanyahus treat other people like servants. The film looks back at Bibi’s extramarital affair and the shifting power dynamics in his personal life, an apparently trivial exercise which, on closer inspection, provides a key to his reactions under a different kind of pressure. It addresses his rejection by the left and his subsequent cosying up to the far right, whom contributors describe in no uncertain terms as ‘Jewish supremacists’ and ‘messianic expansionists’.

Unsurprisingly, efforts to deter people from screening or watching the film have included claims that it is antisemitic. In fact, it draws a clear line between Netanyahu’s ideas and behaviour and those of other Israelis; between the far right and the wider citizenry, which may help to discourage some of the antisemitic sentiments developing internationally. Critically, it incorporates footage of some of the regular protests taking place against the attacks on Gaza, with some of those whose loved ones were abducted by Hamas pleading for a ceasefire and negotiation before it’s too late to save them. A young woman who lost numerous friends in the attack of 7 October 2023 condemns the violence and points out the essential meaninglessness of Netanyahu’s pet phrase ‘total victory’. What does that even mean?

There are no firm conclusions here; there is no simple condemnation; but whatever impression of Israel’s self-professed protector viewers take away, it is unlikely to be flattering. Any illusions you take in with you about unflappable heroes will be well and truly shattered.