Film Synopsis

In an ultra-orthodox Jewish community where married women wear wigs, the charismatic owner of the a beloved wig salon gets divorced and begins resenting the practice.  

Zelda Volkov is a wig-seller and Instagram wigfluencer in Crown Heights, Brooklyn—the heart of the ultra-religious Chabad Lubavitch movement that requires married women to cover their hair in accordance with their faith. Zelda opened her wig salon to redefine the wig as a symbol of individual expression that empowers the wearer. Frequented by influencers and Hasidic glitterati, her salon becomes known as a destination for glamorous, beautiful, and unexpected wigs, as well as a gathering place for conversations about freedom of expression. But when Zelda gets divorced—a rarity in her community—she reconsiders selling women something she no longer believes in wearing herself. She wants to take off her wig in search of a more authentic life, but understands the complications of making that decision. How will she live comfortably in her neighborhood wigless? How will it affect her business and the reputation of her family, including her three young daughters? Will she need to completely rebuild her identity from the ground up? Zelda struggles to find answers in this gripping story of a woman taking control of her own life, and risking everything in the process.

Director’s Statement

When I began filming Zelda in 2017, my intention was to profile someone who was empowered by the structure and laws of Judaism and not oppressed by it as the mainstream story about religious people often is. Instead, the film evolved into a much more nuanced and interesting story.

ZELDA is about the search for identity and how being an individual and a part of the Jewish community can be at odds and support each other simultaneously.  By placing Zelda’s POV front and center through off-the-cuff interviews and observational footage, this film tells a deeply personal human story that demonstrates how even though Zelda may be a part of a closed world, the questions and desires she has are universal and widely relatable.

Throughout history, being Jewish has a unique set of conditions and complications because it is arguably a race, a religion, and a culture. Because of this fluidity, being Jewish and how you chose to be Jewish can be the difference between belonging, social status, or even life and death. When is it more important to be safe and follow the crowd versus risk persecution? When is it important to support your community regardless of your personal beliefs? What if supporting your Jewish community means devaluing your own sense of righteousness? For all Jews today, the question of community identity in relation to personal belief is incredibly urgent, important, and complicated.