THEY weren’t exactly the Yankees, but in the 1930s a team of Austrian women swimmers came close – dominating most competitions they entered.
They were talented, graceful – and Jewish.
And so shortly after Hitler invaded Austria, the members of the Hakoah (“strength” in Hebrew) team all fled their homes and scattered around the globe.
When “Watermarks” writer/director Yaron Zilberman stumbled across their story, he undertook a noble mission: reuniting the survivors and bringing them back to Vienna, to the pool where they saw their greatest successes.
The women take some convincing: Many fear returning to a city that holds such painful memories, one fears being photographed in a bathing suit.
That Zilberman is a dedicated researcher is clear – the film is packed with an overwhelming array of archival photos, news clips and footage. No sooner does one of the women share a memory than there’s a black-and-white photo to illustrate it.
But where the rookie documentarian stumbles is with his filmmaking. There’s no fluidity to his storytelling, and his interviews with the teammates are often stilted.
And he fumbles what might have been one of the film’s most powerful scenes: the moment when they all see each other again for the first time in over 60 years.
Yet “Watermarks” is ultimately a moving, poignant tale about triumph in the face of the unthinkable. Among the film’s many heart-wrenching blows, there’s the scene where 83-year-old Hanni shudders as she walks past the spot where the team had been shunned during what should have been a celebratory march and tearfully says to her granddaughter, “It won’t happen to me again, right?”
Then she steadies herself, and tells the young girl confidently, “It won’t happen to you, either.”
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WATERMARKS
[] (Three stars)
High-water mark. Running time: 84 minutes. Not rated (nothing objectionable). At the Quad, 13th Street between Fifth and Sixth avenues.