It’s
time again for my annual pre-Provincetown Film Festival blog post. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about a
film that I saw at the festival back in 2007, Eytan Fox’s The Bubble. The
celebrated Israeli director has become known for his gay-themed films like Yossi and Jagger and Walk on Water, which focus with
authenticity and complexity on relationships between men. His films are always bold, too, keeping
the sexual aspect of those relationships well within focus. The
Bubble follows suit, this time exploring a romance between an Israeli and a
Palestinian man. Several films
have taken this particular “star-crossed lovers” approach in a gay Israeli
context (the most recent being Michael Mayer’s Out in the Dark), but The
Bubble still feels to me like the most successful and genuine effort of its
kind.
The
film’s title refers to its setting — the city of Tel Aviv, a relative bubble of
acceptance and liberation within a war-torn desert of political strife. More specifically, it refers to the
area of the city surrounding Sheinkin Street, similar to trendy, gay-friendly
Old Compton Street in London’s Soho district. Inside this socially tolerant bubble, the movie’s four
central characters emerge: Noam
(Ohad Knoller), a sweet, quiet record shop employee who also works as a
military check-point guard; Yali (Alon Friedman), Noam’s flamboyant best
friend; Lulu (Daniella Wircer), the free-spirited straight female roommate of
the aforementioned men; and Ashraf (Yousef Sweid), the Palestinian guy with
whom Noam falls in love.
Noam
first meets Ashraf under very intense circumstances in the film’s dramatic
opening scene. Ashraf is on a bus
heading into Tel Aviv when the bus is stopped at an Israeli military
check-point where Noam is working on guard duty. During the inspection of the passengers, a pregnant woman
goes into labor, and the baby must be delivered right in the middle of the
road. The frantic tension of the
scene is palpable and believable.
After they exchange some subtle but knowing glances, Ashraf retrieves
Noam’s dropped identification card and later takes it to Noam’s apartment to
return it to him.
Eytan
Fox incorporates a number of smart moves into the film, one of which occurs
during the first night that Noam and Ashraf share together on the roof of
Noam’s apartment building. They’ve
vacated the apartment for the night so that Lulu can spend it privately with
the handsome if malign magazine editor she’s been dating. The camera intersplices naked close-ups
of Lulu and her date in bed together with identically intimate close-ups of
Noam and Ashraf sleeping together up on the roof, as if to say: young people do enjoy sex, and there’s
not much distinction between gay and straight in that regard.
Ashraf
decides to stay on for the duration after that first night he spends with Noam,
partly because he has a chance to be himself in Tel Aviv. He begins to work as a waiter at Orna and Ella, the restaurant where Yali is a manager. Meanwhile, Lulu becomes increasingly involved with a group
of Israeli anti-occupation activists who seek to find peace and common ground
with Palestinian young people, even organizing a rave on a beach where the
characters can all come together in what feels like a kind of paradise for
them.
Of
course, it’s not a paradise for very long. Ashraf doesn’t have a government permit that would allow him
to remain in Tel Aviv, and his conservative Palestinian family expects him to marry a woman
and have children. Further drama
ensues, bringing about Noam’s separation from Ashraf. In a very funny sequence, Yali and Lulu perform an Israeli
pop song in drag in an attempt to rouse Noam from his bed and his depression
after the seeming breakup.
Yes,
Yali embraces his queeny side, and no, there’s nothing wrong with a stock gay
character who can drop hilarious and witty one-liners about Take That, Judith
Butler, and Michel Foucault. In
fact, all four characters are finely drawn and acted, and their dialogue is
lucid and clever for the most part.
The screenplay does contain some overly convenient and melodramatic
twists, all of which I’m willing to overlook because of the film’s emotionally
precise inner dynamics.
This
emotional exactitude is a fairly rare quality in movies that focus on
relationships between gay men.
Noam and Ashraf are both treated with an understated sense of dignity
throughout, just two everyday guys who have found themselves deeply and
irreversibly attracted to one another.
Not to mention the obvious chemistry between the two actors, which helps
to foster some of the most moving scenes of physical closeness between men that
I’ve ever seen on screen.
And that
closeness works to devastating effect at the film’s climax, during a tragic
scene that’s foreshadowed by some dialogue between Ashraf and Noam early in the
movie. The morning after they’ve
first had sex on the rooftop, Noam says in Hebrew, “We were explosive,” and
explains to Ashraf that the word “explosive” can be used as slang for when
something’s cool. Their climactic
finale that fatally echoes those words (along with a visual cue from Martin
Sherman’s canonical 1979 play Bent) is
filmed in a burst of light with a 360-degree, hyper-kinetic tracking shot, the
perfect directorial decision for a heartbreaking scene that might otherwise be
impossible to render.
Also
to his credit, Eytan Fox doesn’t leave the viewer with any unearned
sentimentality or simple answers in the film’s voiceover denouement (alongside
a beautiful cover of Tim Buckley’s “Song to the Siren” by Ivri Lider in the
movie’s closing credits).
Certainly for gay men surrounded by the ongoing Israeli/Palestinian
conflict, love is forced to try to persist amidst violence and
persecution. The Bubble creates a realistic fantasy that approximates what
exactly that struggle must feel like.
Great piece, as always, Jason. I recently saw - and was very moved by - YOSSI but otherwise I'm shamefully behind on Fox's movies. Will catch up this summer. Starting with THE BUBBLE. :-)
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