Yankee Doodle... Zohan

For anyone who has yet to see the new Adam Sandler flick, "You Don't Mess With the Zohan," let me tell you this much- it's stupid, funny, and totally idealistic. The thing is, it doesn't entirely live up to the ideals it espouses. Let me back up a bit first, though...

It's easily the funniest two hours I've sat through in a good long time, and a true cultural experience. Not Jewish culture, though, that's for sure. As one of Alan's and my more astute friends quipped, "This film represents the triumph of secular Israeli culture- and in only 60 years!" It's absolutely true. With the exception of some bizarrely ubiquitous Yiddishisms from his family, Zohan isn't portrayed as Jewish, he's Israeli. And although I would argue that it requires a fairly sophisticated understanding of Israeli culture (and especially Israeli culture in America) to find many scenes funny, seeing this movie is certainly not an Israeli cultural experience. Nope; it's decidedly American.

I don't think I'm giving anything away when I say that the vast majority of the action takes place in New York. The United States of America: the noble turf on which anyone can play without completely relinquishing their allegiance to their particular home team. By the end of the film (no spoiler alert needed here either, I trust), the viewer walks away with a deep sense of righteous patriotism. "This really is the greatest country on earth!" you may find yourself inadvertently exclaiming. Where else could Zohan and his Palestinian love interest (oops...well, this can't be too much of a surprise, can it?) live out their respective dreams of life, liberty, and the pursuit of silky-smoothness?

Given all this, it really disappoints me to report that it's in the music that "Zohan" fails- this is where there's a real incongruence between the film's message and its execution. Though the soundtrack features some top-notch Israeli (and American- gotta give props to Mariah) performers, most notably hip-hop powerhouse Hadag Nachash, no Palestinian artists signed on to the film. I get it, I do, but nonetheless, it's a shame. Why not use this very platform to expose the world to some gems of Palestinian culture, too? Besides the dewey-eyed patriotism this film evokes, it also does a surprisingly good job of humanizing Israel and Israelis- something we're not necessarily exposed to too often. As much as the script did this for Palestinians as well, a less lopsided soundtrack could have done much more.

Perhaps I'm taking a stupid, funny movie too seriously. But it really did bother me. If the moral of this modern take on a classic American tale is universality and inclusiveness, as it seems to be, why were there no songs in Arabic as well as Hebrew? I'm a great believer in the power of music to bring people together- and not in that schmaltzy, "kum-ba-ya" kind of way, but through real connectedness, and real dialogue. If Adam Sandler doesn't make it happen, I hope someone else does soon.