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user\n\"The Bubble\" is an effort to make a gay Romeo & Juliet type of story with an Israeli and a Palestinian, although it seems to come at it by way of \"Friends\" or \"Beverly Hills 90210.\" The characters are shallow and trite as are the dialog and plot line. The movie seems torn between fluff and depth. On the one hand there is a pointed effort at being shallow as (in one example of many) some minor characters even ask questions that invite development of insight into the conflicts at hand, and get answers like, \"Hey, we're here to make a poster for a rave against the occupation. Don't get political!\" Beyond the obvious absurdity of such a line, it's just one of many ham-fisted signals that the movie is just as hollow and insubstantial as its title suggests. On the other hand, the movie's main pretension to depth follows the lovers to a presentation of \"Bent\" a play about gays in a Nazi labor camp. The scene on stage is awkwardly rushed, undermining its erotic power (understandable given the constraints of film-time, but still this could have been edited to much better effect.) and comes off as flimsily as the rest of the film. Too bad. This play deserves much better.
The characters are so one-dimensionally cartoony some even have names that telegraph their entire (though the word seems inappropriate here) substance. The aggressive soldier from the crack Golani brigade is named \"Golan.\" The militant Palestinian is named \"Jihad.\" The striving-for-chic faghag roommate is \"Lulu.\" Anyone familiar with the checkpoints and life in Palestine, whether from real life or documentaries will find the checkpoint scenes as absurdly unreal as well, the rest of this fluffy fantasy. When a Palestinian woman goes into the fastest labor on record Israeli soldiers are solicitous and helpful, an ambulance shows up in minutes. (The outcome of the birth serves to show the Palestinians as unappreciative of Israeli beneficence and even downright paranoiac.) Altogether the checkpoint is shown as a mere nuisance, not the series of bone-numbing, soul-crushing, humiliating obstructions with no regard for medical care or necessity in cases of birth, death, or severe illness. Ashraf, the Palestinian lover, seems to get through from Nablus to Tel Aviv with no problems, no papers, no hassles. He just shows up whenever he likes. When the Israelis want to get through it is much more of a challenge involving a scheme worthy of Lucy Ricardo.
Against the backdrop of nice, supportive Israelis and surly homophobic Palestinians we move to a resolution that is utterly lacking in motivation or purpose  except as a painfully obvious dramatic device to milk sympathy for the forbidden lovers.
Gay Israeli-Palestinian romance has been handled on stage with much more skill and depth as in Saleem's \"Salaam/Shalom\" so this film is hardly even as groundbreaking as some people would like to think.
Gloriously bad films  like the works of Ed Wood -- at least have some striking idiosyncrasy to distinguish them. This one doesn't even have that going for it. Most of the sound track sounds like Simon and Garfunkel on quaaludes, and even with the weird oedipal touches to the gay sex scenes, the general incompetence that pervades this movie plays out like a mediocre TV-movie-of-the-week.
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