Eytan Fox's 'Sublet' Walks a Well-Worn Path [Review]

When movies position a main character as a globe-trotting, emotionally unmoored soul searcher with a damaged heart, why do they always make them a writer? Everyone’s seen this movie before; a protagonist, usually a writer, jets off to an exotic locale to recover from an emotional trial, they soak up the culture, rediscover a lost part of themselves, and inevitably fall for the all-knowing local that’s been nudging them along. “Sublet” runs with this recipe without many deviations, using the basic outline from “Under the Tuscan Sun,” “Eat Pray Love,” and the Colin Firth bit from “Love Actually” with an Israeli, LGBTQ slant. The film isn’t so much bad as it is boring, and it suffers from a casting deficiency that doesn’t allow Julia Roberts or Diane Lane to swoop in and save the larger effort.

“Sublet” opens with its lead, the 50-something Michael (John Benjamin Hickey) arriving in Tel Aviv for a 5-day assignment for the New York Times. Michael is a writer for the paper (because of course he is) and is in town to pen a piece about the “real” city hiding behind the touristy hot spots. The apartment Michael is subletting during his trip is occupied by a young filmmaker, Tomer (Niv Nissim), who isn’t at all ready to vacate once his temporary lodger arrives, and makes frequent trips back after Michael settles in.

During one such return visit, Michael learns that Tomer doesn’t have a place to crash for the evening, and so offers him a spot on the couch in return for a few days’ worth of guided tours around Tel Aviv. Tomer accepts, and introduces Michael to not just a city, but to the modern world of Israeli LGBTQ culture. Both men are gay, yet at different stages in their lives, with Michael in a long-term relationship with a partner back in New York while Tomer dismisses any idea of exclusivity. The pair take turns learning from each other, with Tomer soaking up some maturity and perspective while Michael rediscovers some of his youthful daring and impulsivity.

The script for “Sublet” was co-written by Israeli filmmaker Eytan Fox, who also directed the picture. One would think that having Fox behind the camera would give “Sublet” a distinct sense of place, especially considering the fact that the lead is a travel writer on assignment, yet this is not the case. Much of the film takes place in Tomer’s apartment, and when not there, the featured beaches, clubs, and streets all feel somewhat generic and commonplace. Except for the occasional subtitles, nothing about the setting paints it as a distinctly Tel Aviv or even Israeli picture, which is either an odd choice or a big miss.

Character-wise, “Sublet” is similarly shallow, and lacking in complexity. Tomer is given little in the way of a personality except as an angsty fuck-boi, and Michael is written as a knowingly past-his-prime stick in the mud (which does not make for an especially engaging character). Pairing these diametrically opposed characters together does harbor the promise of some fireworks and life lesson exchanges, but as already mentioned, anyone who has seen a version of this movie before should expect nothing less. The conflict is there, sure, but this is well-trod ground using two characters (and actors) that aren’t bringing anything new to the table.

The script goes through the expected motions of the formula, giving Michael some off-screen trauma to overcome by way of the trip and Tomer’s prodding, leaving few surprises. Visually, the film is somewhat flat, with locations and even the costuming presenting as a bit uninspired and without much of a say in the narrative. A scene near the end when Michael and Tomer travel out to the country to visit the latter’s mother is one of the few exceptions, and it’s a breath of narrative and visual fresh air that the movie desperately needs.

So, yeah: a played-out story shot with uninspired visuals and staffed with a cast of average actors playing insipid characters defines what one is getting with “Sublet.” It isn’t so much terrible as it is dull, and a rehash of better movies that were themselves nothing to write home about, which is ironic since so many of them featured scribe leads. Hickey and Nissim do decent work leading the flick across the finish line, yet they’re given desperately little to do in the process. And while it’s nice that a popular, recycled narrative is getting new legs in an LGBTQ vehicle, one can’t help but wonder what might have been with characters and a story that took a few chances with the formula.  [D]