Lemon Popsicle (1978)

Lemon Popsicle has that rare knack for turning a rowdy teen sex comedy into a time capsule with a pulse: late-’50s Tel Aviv rendered with sunburnt nostalgia, pop-song melancholy, and the messy immediacy of being 17 and convinced every feeling is forever. Boaz Davidson’s direction keeps the movie moving with a breezy, hangout energy, but it also knows when to let the laughter curdle into something more tender, and Yftach Katzur anchors it all with a performance that makes the romantic longing feel surprisingly sincere. It’s funny, crude, and frequently outrageous, yet underneath the locker-room bravado there’s an ache about friendship, first love, and the consequences no one thinks will actually arrive. Fair warning: the explicit sexual content involving teenagers is central and can be a deal-breaker, but if you can meet it on its terms, you’ll find a surprisingly affecting coming-of-age story hiding inside the mischief.

Lemon Popsicle is aiming for a nostalgic, coming-of-age sex comedy set in late-’50s Tel Aviv, mixing crude misadventures with a surprisingly earnest thread about first love and consequences. The problem is that a lot of it plays like a checklist of familiar teen-horniness gags, and the “boys will be boys” vibe can feel dated rather than charming. More importantly, the explicit sexual focus involving teenagers, plus the prostitution and abortion plotline, makes it an easy pass if you’re not comfortable with edgy, ethically messy material treated with a light touch. If you can accept that and you’re looking for a time-capsule of its era, there’s some bittersweet romance and atmosphere, but don’t go in expecting freshness or much sensitivity.