Celebrated TV producer Elad Kuperman finds a new reality in the Biala court

Photos: Elchanan Kotler

For Israeli television viewers, Elad Kuperman is synonymous with some of the most creative programming over the last three decades. As a producer, he’s the behind-the-scenes guy who makes things happen — yet over the last few years, the Great Producer started pulling on his soul strings. And that’s why Elad often finds himself in the inner sanctum of the Biala-Beit Shemesh Rebbe. “Here,” he says, “is where I make my most important life decisions”

The last place you’d expect to run into award-winning veteran Israeli television producer Elad Kuperman is in Ramat Beit Shemesh, on the outskirts of the kanoi neighborhood of Kiryat Ramah, with its “Don’t pass through our neighborhood in immodest clothing,” and “Zionists out” graffiti. But Kuperman isn’t fazed — he’s got a large black kippah on his head, and he’s here on one of his regular visits to his rebbe. “Ich fur tzum rebbin,” he says in Yiddish.

His eyes light up as he nears the sign Beis Medrash d’Chasidei Biala Beit Shemesh. “This is like my home,” he explains, and as he enters, it looks like he’s not exaggerating. He’s greeted warmly by longtime gabbai Reb Leibel Porush, and a minute later he kisses the Rebbe’s hand and is embraced like a long-lost friend.

For Israeli television viewers, the name Elad Kuperman is synonymous with the developing industry over the last three decades. He began his career at a time when, after decades as a one-channel monopoly, Israeli TV incorporated cable television as well as the country’s first commercial channel. From the beginning, he seemed to have an innate sense of what the Israeli public wanted to watch, and was the creator of the reality TV genre, Israeli-style.

A producer, as Kuperman himself notes, is the behind-the-scenes guy who knows how to make things happen. He’s spent years bringing ideas to fruition — coordinating sets, positioning cameras, timing events, and turning vague plans into reality.

And like any good producer, he takes everything into account. Except that in the last few years, something changed. The Great Producer started pulling on his soul strings. And it turns out that every now and then, Kuperman leaves all his business behind, sets out from his home in Ramat Hasharon or his offices in Tel Aviv, and comes here, to the Rebbe’s room.

“This is where I make my most important life decisions,” he reveals.

Because it isn’t easy for a man who’s only recently undertaken to keep Shabbos and other Jewish observances while remaining in the center of the Israeli entertainment industry. “But my rebbe, even though he comes from a world of kedushah, understands me completely,” he says.

For Rav Pinchas Yirmiya Rabinowitz, the Biala-Beit Shemesh Rebbe (also known as the Biala-Lenchne Rebbe), it doesn’t really matter what a person’s status is on the outside. He has an expanded heart for bochurim on the fringe, for souls who’ve lost their way, and for many others who are just finding theirs.

“I’ve been here dozens of times throughout my journey back to authentic Judaism, and never did I hear a single word about estrangement,” says Kuperman as we join him in his meeting with the Rebbe. “I was always received like a member of the family, and it made no difference what I did or how I was dressed, even when I was distant [from Hashem].”

But the Rebbe doesn’t like that word. “Today there’s a lot of talk about kiruv rechokim,” explains the Rebbe, a son of the previous Biala Rebbe of Bnei Brak, Rav Dovid Matisyahu Rabinowitz ztz”l, known as the Lahavas Dovid. (After his passing in 1997, Rebbe Dovid’s four sons were coronated as rebbes in different communities.) “Whenever I hear that phrase, I’m a little taken aback. Who decides who’s close and who’s distant? Who are we to judge a fellow Jew’s closeness to HaKadosh Baruch Hu? Here we don’t use the term rechokim. Here we’re engaged in kiruv kerovim. We show people how close they really are.

“And you know,” the Rebbe continues, “there’s one thing for which I simply envy you.” Kuperman looks perplexed. “Yes, I envy your shemiras Shabbos.”

The Rebbe closes his eyes and tries to explain: “Some of us, we were zocheh — we were born already on the summit of the mountain, we didn’t have to climb it. From our earliest youth we were surrounded by the fragrance and flavor of Shabbos — keeping it was never a nisayon for us.

“But here sits a Jew, chelek Eloka mima’al. A pure neshamah, to whom Hashem decided to give such difficult nisyonos in the area of keeping Shabbos. He had to climb up a flat wall. There were days when he called me and all we could do was cry together. But he conquers, he breaks through the obstacles and attains the holy level of keeping Shabbos. And so, I ask you, how can anyone talk about kerovim and rechokim? Who knows how many people among us, who on the surface seem closer to Hashem, would have failed that test? There’s nothing closer to Hashem than an earnest Jewish neshamah.”