SCREEN

Meeting with Roni Kuban

The art of the intimate conversation

Abigail Zamir
|
2 min read
Intimate Conversation

There’s something hypnotic about watching someone slowly shed their public persona on television. In Roni Kuban’s “Meeting with Roni Kuban,” the interview becomes something more than a conversation: it transforms into a kind of archaeological dig through the layers of someone’s life.

An actual conversation

In this interview series, each episode follows a similar cyclical format: Kuban welcomes guests at the memory wall lined with photographs and newspaper clippings, they move to the seated conversation, then return to examine the artifacts more closely, watch clips from their past, and sometimes engage in exercises or games that catch them off guard. The format deliberately shifts between familiar and vulnerable territories, creating moments where rehearsed answers give way to genuine reaction.

This isn’t the traditional ping-pong of Israeli interview television. Where other shows race toward soundbites, Kuban constructs an actual conversation that is both intimate and personal. The urban loft setting feels both professional and lived-in, a safe space to reflect on political accomplishmentsc alongside childhood memories. The show has hosted diverse figures, including Itai Angel, Eyal Berkovic, Gila Almagor, Yoram Yuvell, Israel Meir Lau, Daniella London Dekel, and Aharon Barak – a constellation of Israeli culture that spans politics, economics, arts, media, and sports.

From public persona to authentic self

What makes the show remarkable is how it reveals the circular nature of human stories. Each guest arrives carrying decades of public perception, but through Kuban’s documentary approach, they become archaeologists of their own experience. The wall of photographs isn’t just decoration – it’s a mirror reflecting moments they may have forgotten, connections they hadn’t made. The repetitive questions and exercises aren’t limitations, but rather like the recurring motions of a good dialogue. They create safety, a framework within which the unexpected can emerge. This is Kuban’s genius: understanding that authenticity often requires structure, that people reveal their truest selves not in chaos but within carefully constructed containers.

The power of slowing down

The show has won the Israeli Television Academy Award for Best Interview Program annually from 2017 through 2024, a recognition that speaks to more than just entertainment value. In a media landscape often obsessed with breaking news and viral moments, “Meeting with Roni Kuban” offers something increasingly rare: the luxury of time and depth. Each conversation becomes a complete journey, allowing viewers to witness not just what guests think, but how they think, how they’ve changed, how they make sense of their own stories.

Perhaps most importantly, “Meeting with Roni Kuban” understands that every life contains multiple stories, and that the most interesting conversations happen when we stop trying to confirm what we already know and start exploring what we don’t. In the dance between interviewer and guest, Kuban demonstrates the rarest quality an interviewer can possess – patience. He has mastered the art of emotional intelligence, understanding that the most meaningful stories unfold slowly, in their own time. In doing so, he’s created something rare in television: a space where vulnerability becomes strength.

About the Author

Abigail Zamir is a content writer and Hebrew teacher at Citizen Café. She holds a Master’s in Theatre Arts, and has a never-ending love for Israeli cinema, short stories, and biking along the promenade by the sea in Tel Aviv.

Abigail Zamir

Discover More

Discover More

Skip to main content

Hebrew Nugget:

Meeting with Roni Kuban

Intimate Conversation

The past year has been an emotional rollercoaster – moving from the shock, pain, and sadness of unimaginable events to the moments of hope we felt with each hostage coming home, each family reunited, and every soldier returning safely. Alongside this, we’ve found countless reasons to be grateful – for the incredible outpouring of support from civilians, and for the things we still hold dear, like our families, our partners, and our community. But these feelings are always mixed with the ache and despair that everyone in Israel still carries, even now.
I’d say the best way to describe how everyone around me is feeling is רגשות מעורבים (reh-gah-shoht meh-oh-rah-veem), which means “mixed emotions.” רגש (reh-gehsh) means “an emotion” in singular, but in plural, רגשות, it might sound feminine with the “OHT” ending. But here’s the catch: this doesn’t change the gender of the noun or the adjective that follows, which still matches the singular form. So, it’s מעורבים and not מעורבות. It’s just one of those quirks of Hebrew that’s tricky to explain.