Cinematographer Ziv Berkovich capturing the Texture of Memory in “Tell Me Everything”
Could you please Ziv, introduce yourself?
Living between Tel Aviv and Los Angeles, my name is Ziv, but actually not many know that I was born Genia. My family is from Kazakhstan, when it was still part of the Soviet Union. When the Soviet Union collapsed, I was six years old, and we moved to Israel.
When we arrived, I didn’t speak Hebrew at all , only Russian with my parents. Israel wasn’t really prepared for such a massive wave of immigration at once, and as a child I didn’t have many activities or frameworks to fall into. What I did have was a small video rental place near our house. They rented films dubbed into Russian. At the time, I didn’t realize it, but these were films that were still playing in cinemas, recorded and dubbed illegally.
So while other kids were watching films readily available in cinemas in Hebrew or English, I found comfort in a film world that spoke my language, and was watching these dubbed films in Russian. I watched so many films that I became obsessed. That’s where I believe my infatuation with cinema really began.
In high school, I chose film studies, and later I was accepted to Sam Spiegel Film & Television School. I knew I wanted to work in cinema, but I wasn’t sure in which role. During the first-year exercises, we had to rotate through every department, directing, sound, lighting, cinematography. The day before I was supposed to shoot my first project as a cinematographer, I broke my arm but went forward with the shoot anyway. Despite all the difficulties, I enjoyed it so much that it became clear to me that this was something I want to do more. The feedback was very positive, and soon after, other students began asking me to shoot their films.
Several of the films I shot during my student years were selected for major festivals. I had the privilege of being selected three times to the Cinéfondation at the Cannes Film Festival with: Anthem (1st Prize, 2008), Diploma (3rd Prize, 2009), and Babaga (2012). From that point on, cinematography became my focus. Soon after graduating, I shot two feature films. Both premiered at A-list festivals, Not in Tel Aviv at Locarno and Self Made at Cannes’ Semaine de la critique.
Since then, my path has been shaped by collaboration, moving from one project to the next and learning through each film.

How would you describe your journey as a cinematographer?
Cinematography for me is a way of life. I’m surrounded by incredible people who are always in a filmmaking state of mind, so we’re constantly thinking about strong stories and interesting ways to tell them.
That also includes my family. My wife is a documentary film director, my son and daughter visit me on set often and sometimes even have small cameos, and since my student years I’ve always included my parents as extras in films I shoot. Filmmaking has never felt separate from my everyday life.
As a cinematographer, the way I look at the world is strongly shaped by light and by people , sometimes through a viewfinder, and sometimes without one. Cinematography is always on my mind. Even sitting in a café with a friend, I might suddenly notice a location that could work for a future film, a quality of light that feels right that day, or people whose faces, movement, or colors spark an idea.
Alongside my work as a cinematographer, I’m often involved in projects from early stages, helping shape their visual language. Recently, I’ve started teaching at film school, which has expanded my world. Meeting and talking with the younger generation allows me to learn from them just as much as I teach them.

“Tell Me Everything” is an Israeli-French drama film, can you tell us more about the movie’s intentions?
“Tell Me Everything” is an Israeli–French co-production that was filmed entirely in Israel. While it’s a very personal film for the director, it’s not autobiographical. It draws more from a shared emotional memory than from specific events.
Both the director, Moshe Rosental, and I were born in the 1980s, and the film moves between the 1980s and 1990s. The intention wasn’t to create a nostalgic portrait of the period, but rather to capture the feeling of growing up during those years. By avoiding nostalgia as a goal, the film stays focused on the characters and the story, which gives it a stronger emotional presence.
Although the film takes place entirely in the past, it doesn’t rely heavily on period elements to carry it. The time setting is there, but it doesn’t dominate the film. What matters more is the storytelling itself , allowing the audience to simply experience the film as a story, rather than as a reconstruction of a specific era.

How did you get started on “Tell Me Everything”?
I became involved with “Tell Me Everything” quite early on. About five years before the film was made, Moshe Rosental called me and asked if I would like to read a script and share my thoughts. We already knew each other at that point, and I was familiar with his short films, which I admired very much, so I felt honored to be part of the conversation.
We met and talked about the script, and I immediately felt it was a strong story and that his approach to cinema was very clear and thoughful. Moshe is deeply involved in all aspects of filmmaking, which creates a strong sense of unity between performance, technical work, music, and every other department. He has a way of making everyone feel that they are working on the same personal project, with the same level of care.
Several years later, he contacted me again and asked me to officially come on board as the cinematographer. I was very excited when he offered me the film. From that point on, we spent a lot of time talking about our shared memories of that period, and we often went scouting together on our own.

Being the Director Of Photography, Did you have specific artistic guidelines?
For “Tell Me Everything”, we defined a few clear visual guidelines early on that Moshe Rosental and I agreed to follow throughout the film. One of the main ideas was to visually separate the different periods. The 1980s were treated with warmer, more saturated tones, while the 1990s leaned toward higher contrast and a more restrained color palette, almost like black and white, but still holding on to color.
Having this framework early on helped everyone involved, especially the art department, and gave us a shared visual language to work from. From a technical perspective, I wanted to work with visible grain and push the camera slightly beyond its comfort zone, to give the image more texture and presence rather than a clean, polished look.
In terms of constraints, time was our main limitation. The film was shot in 18 days, which required very focused decisions and a lot of trust in the preparation we had done. Of course, I would have loved to have more time, but the limitations also helped keep the process instinctive and precise.

When it comes to camera and lenses, do you have a go-to package, and does sensor format matter to you? Which camera did you ultimately choose for this project, and what led you to shoot the entire film with the Optimo Prime Series?
I don’t really have a fixed go-to camera or lens package. For me, each project starts with imagining the image I want to achieve, and then finding the tools that can best support that idea. Sensor format matters, but only in relation to the feeling and flexibility it allows, not as a rule in itself.
For “Tell Me Everything”, I knew early on that I needed a camera with a high native ISO. Many of our locations were quite small, and the lighting approach relied on sensitivity rather than heavy setups. The Sony Venice felt like the right choice, not only because of its performance in low light, but also because of the Rialto mode, which made it much easier to work in tight spaces and maintain intimacy in the frame. Once the camera was chosen, I moved to my favorite part, choosing my optics. I was looking for an image that felt soft and gentle, but still allowed the characters to remain sharp and present, something that carried a sense of memory without feeling vague. I also needed a complete lens set that could handle very different situations, from exterior park scenes to confined interior car shots.
The Optimo Prime Series was part of the tests I conducted, and when I saw how the lenses interacted with the camera, it immediately felt right. During testing, I also looked closely at how they responded to haze, added grain, and a more colorful LUT. The combination held together beautifully. The lenses maintained clarity while allowing texture and atmosphere to exist in the image, which was exactly what the film needed.
In the end, it wasn’t about a single technical feature, but about how all the elements worked together, camera, lenses, grain, light, and color, to support the emotional tone of the story.

“Tell Me Everything” seems to be a very touching project, deep and intense humanly speaking, do you have any anecdotic story you would like to share with us?
Working on Tell Me Everything was both demanding and genuinely fun. The story is emotionally intense, but the atmosphere on set was focused, open, and collaborative. There’s a particular kind of enjoyment that comes from working with people you trust, on a story that feels meaningful, and that was very present throughout the shoot. I came to set each day knowing we were doing serious work, but enjoying the process of doing it together.
Looking back, it’s interesting to note that at the beginning of the process there was a discussion around the lenses, since production wasn’t convinced we could afford them. From their point of view, it made sense. But for me, the camera and lenses are not just technical choices, they’re my hands, and they have a major influence on the look and feel of the film. Choosing the Optimo Prime Series felt essential to the way I wanted to tell the story, and I believed they would allow me to work with the precision and sensitivity the film needed. In the end, they trusted me and supported the choice, and I like to think that maybe this article will end up on someone’s desk as a small reminder that it was worth it. What stayed with me most was the collective dedication. Cast and crew were fully invested in the film, and that shared focus created a rare energy. The story is strong, the film found its audience, and experiences like this make me hopeful that we’ll be able to continue telling stories like this in the future.

