While the production value is fairly high for an Israeli series, there are some amusing moments that showcase the difference between How Far and its slick American counterparts – like when the women complain about their bedrooms not having air conditioning.
In addition to its unparalleled food, beaches and a cultural heritage that interrupts your life for a quick reevaluation, Israel can certainly count beautiful men (and women!
) as its national treasure, guaranteed to lure young birthright dwellers for years to come.
Itay Makover, a native of Jerusalem, lives in Kyoto and is a real estate entrepreneur.
And Tzion Fadlon, who grew up in Tel Aviv, lives in Rio de Janeiro, where he owns a boutique hotel and a bar.
In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read. They may have been slightly overselling, but they weren’t entirely wrong.
As a New Yorker, I am used to Israelis coming with a certain stigma, notorious for shady business dealings in the same way that Russians are infamous for insurance scams.
Yes, this happened to a friend of mine and yes, make beautiful love they did.
No bullshit was lost in translation—which is quite refreshing, if you ask me.
In the first three episodes, religion is only touched on once, by one of the women, but the underlying concept is still present.
After all, none of the women are Arab, and several weren’t born in Israel. It begins with the concept itself – how far would women go for love? And it’s the women who are meant to drop everything they have – their careers, their families and their friends – to fly halfway around the world, while the men stay put in their lives.
While I was certain that the chickpeas fiend in me would have a blast, I wasn’t as convinced about my demi-shiksa.