Nadav Lapid Says ‘Yes’ Was Too Radioactive For Cannes: “Maybe Someone Was Afraid”

Israeli director Nadav Lapid’s latest film, “Yes,” didn’t make the official selection at Cannes this year, instead landing a spot in the parallel Directors’ Fortnight section. It was a surprising move considering Lapid’s history with the festival—he won the Jury Prize in 2021 for “Ahed’s Knee.”

Asked about the snub, Lapid told IndieWire he has decided to stick with what his publicist advised him to say:

Maybe it’s a question that should be addressed to the people who selected the film, and not to me. I don’t know. Maybe the film was too disturbing. Maybe someone was afraid.’ What I can say is that the film, during its whole [production], and also when it ended, became — unwillingly — a kind of tool which measures cowardice and courage, to distinguish between the cowardly ones and the courageous ones.

And yet, reviews have been all glowing for “Yes,” with many puzzled by its absence from the competition. Raves came in from The Guardian, THR, Vulture, Variety, Screen, IndieWire, and IONCINEMA.

The reason for Cannes’ hesitation isn’t hard to guess. “Yes” is a provocative, confrontational musical satire centered on two Israeli artists who agree to write a nationalist anthem for a Russian oligarch in the aftermath of October 7. It’s part political takedown, part artistic meltdown, and fully aware of its own explosiveness.

Production was rocky. Cast and crew came and went. Some quit, others disappeared citing sudden “fevers.” Lapid describes the shoot as an underground operation: minimal gear, limited monitoring, and a pervasive sense of risk.

The film was written before the October 7 attacks but adapted as events unfolded. Scenes were shot in Israel, even close to the Gaza border, with the war’s presence bleeding into the background—sometimes literally.

The lead role is played by Ariel Bronz as “Y,” a jazz musician who bleaches his hair and dives into a nationalist rebranding project while his personal life collapses. His wife, a hip-hop dancer named Yasmine, watches as drugs, sex, and political compromise consume their world. The film’s anthem uses lyrics from a real far-right Israeli group. Subtlety is not the goal.

Due to a scheduling hiccup, I only caught up with the first half of Lapid’s 150-minute film — what I saw was a sensory overload of music, politics, and anger. It was loud, uncomfortable, and —complimentarily— unsubtle. I very much look forward to seeing it in full soon.