Though “Paradise Now,” a film about Palestinian suicide bombers, may appear to be a great romantic comedy and the perfect date movie for all you post-Full Moon on the Quad lovers, I’m hoping that this review might make you reconsider your options. Don’t get me wrong: it has all elements of excellent and artsy filmmaking (extended close-ups, long silences, entirely in Arabic), but perhaps the subject matter is a little too fluffy. After all, what gets you in the mood more than 91 minutes of what may be the last 48 hours of two Palestinians’ lives?

Now I really shouldn’t discount the movie because it tended to be a little dry and depressing. Perhaps it was simply my irritation after having arrived an hour and a half early with nothing to do, or the terrifyingly large, distracting figures of Sully and Mike Wazowski from “Monster’s Inc.” that hampered my viewing experience, but nonetheless, I thought the film was a drag.

It follows Said (Kais Nashef) and Khaled (Ali Suliman), best friends since childhood, who believe that if they are to martyr themselves for the Palestinian cause, they should do it together. The audience is thrown into their everyday lives, where they spend their time working as auto-mechanics, drinking tea, smoking hookah and taking part in an underground, cultish anti-Israeli resistance.

The film begins when Suha (Lubna Asabal), a beautiful woman who is emphatically not “from there,” brings her car in to the auto-repair shop for Said to look at. Though sparks fly, Said seems paralyzed in shyness and reservation. Khaled is soon afterwards fired from his job in an amusing display of anger towards a customer — the only lighthearted moment of the film (occurring during the first five minutes). That night, Said and Khaled are approached by Jamal (Amer Hlehel), one of the more educated men in their anti-Israeli organization, who is delighted to inform them that they have been chosen for a strike against Tel Aviv.

From here, it becomes apparent that director Hany Abu-Assad is trying very hard to humanize these men; they are portrayed with their families, poverty-stricken and swept away in whether they may or may not go through with it. Lines like, “Death is better than inferiority,” and “We have no other way to fight!” pervade their conversations, shedding light on a mindset that may be unfathomable to many viewers.

When Said sneaks away to see Suha one last time, their conversation appears to rip a hole in Said’s conscience, making him question the righteousness of their cause. Despite his growing suspicions, he continues with the purification processes, looking to Khaled as a pillar of strength. The next day, they are dropped off into Israeli territory to complete the suicide bombing mission, but their plan goes awry, and Said and Khaled are separated. Though Abu-Assad wants the audience to become engrossed in the question of, “Will they go through with it?” it is difficult to hold our attention with the lingering close-up camera shots of Said blinking and the awkward, long, soundtrack-less silences.

I left the theater thinking that the elitist in me should have warmed up to the film more. After all, it was artsy, slightly inaccessible and could easily have been one of those movies that you name-drop as having seen and liked because it really “made you think” about deep, politically charged issues. But even though it did all these things and included an ending that I hadn’t remotely expected, the film’s pace and style thoroughly dampened my potential enthusiasm. And just in case you hadn’t caught on to my previous sarcasm: do not take a date to see this film, unless your date is into that death-and-destruction sort of thing.