Nathan Silver’s “Between the Temples” is the type of well-written character piece that was prominent in the American cinema of the seventies. As Alexander Payne’s skill for balancing relatable characters infused with pathos and natural humor gives his movies their soul, Silver finds profound truth in the broken people that inhabit his charming film. The comparison to Payne is appropriate, as both filmmakers respect the seventies, when screenwriters dug deep to create complex character-driven serio-comedies. The works of both Alexander Payne and Nathan Silver share firmly planted homages to the styles of Hal Ashby, Robert Altman, and Jerry Schatzberg.

Written by Silver and C. Mason Wells, “Between the Temples” is quite Ashby-esque in its examination of a Jewish cantor named Ben Gottlieb, played by Jason Schwartzman in the performance of his career. Since his wife’s death, Ben has become a walking contradiction. He has all but lost his faith and desire to pray or sing (the definition of a cantor). Ben feels he can no longer move forward and rejects almost everything. For him, the joy of life ended with the death of his wife. The script’s most telling line comes from his grief-stricken self-sabotage declaration, “Ben. Even my name is in the past tense.”

Manifestly his only bright spot, Ben has two mothers (Caroline Aaron and Dolly de Leon) and remains close to both. Life feels as normal as it will get when he is around them.

As anyone would, Ben hangs onto the memory of his dead wife in many ways. He visits her grave often and keeps her erotic voicemail messages (over 700) on his cell phone, as the two had an active sex life. When he dabbles in the sexually charged affection of his rabbi’s daughter, Gabby (Madeline Weinstein), we understand he is doing it only to remember his wife. For Gabby, it is about the words of his wife turning on her desire for Ben as he lets her listen to the messages. For him, he is using Gabby as a conduit. The incendiary and darkly comedic eroticism of the scene plays like something out of a Phillip Roth novel: at once awkward, sad, and maybe just a bit cruel.

A spark of hope enters Ben’s orbit in the form of his once grade-school music teacher, Carla Kessler (Carol Kane), who shows up at a bar the same time that he is having an alcohol-fueled bad night. Though she doesn’t recognize him initially, Carla eventually remembers the “Little Benny” from her class. Eventually, she shows up at his synagogue hoping to become his Bat Mitzvah student. While Ben certainly becomes enamored with Carol, this is far from a clichéd older/younger romance. Wells and Silver’s script is too smart for that, as they allow their characters room to breathe, thus creating an emotional unpredictability that is true to life.

Both Kane and Schwartzman easily find the soul of their respective characters, each one colored by loss and the need to find something peaceful to guide them. There is a purity in the relationship between Ben and Carla; their moments together exist at the core of the film’s tenderness. The lead roles couldn’t have been better cast. The two actors fully inhabit these characters whose lives are enriched by one another as life gently guides Carla and Ben to their second chances.

Silver gives the film an intoxicating aura. Shooting in 16mm (courtesy of cinematographer Sean William Price) keeps the seventies vibe fresh without an overreliance on style, while John Magary’s occasionally fractured editing choices complement Price’s work, giving the film’s pacing a melodic groove.

The director grasps the intimacy of the screenplay and finds a natural and unhurried rhythm. He allows the audience to find their way, as Ben does the same. Silver is interested in human connection and expertly finds joy, hope and (most importantly) truth in the connections of his creations. For Ben and Carla, there is laughter, sadness, kindness, and pain. But there is also hope. Such is life.

“Between the Temples” is a warm and endearing picture; a tender, unpredictable, and often very funny piece filled with brutal honesty and love.