For the past few weeks, the cast and creator of the Netflix hit comedy “Nobody Wants This” have been trading takes on the Israel-Palestine conflict via the press. First, star Adam Brody, who plays “hot rabbi” Noah Roklov and one half of the show’s central couple, told GQ that he considers Israel’s actions in Gaza to be a genocide, and that he supports a free Palestine. Creator Erin Foster, who based the show on her experience converting to Judaism after meeting her now-husband, then stated in a podcast appearance that “I disagree with [Brody], and that’s OK,” keeping her own stance vague but reiterating that she considers the series “a love letter to Judaism.” Actor Tovah Feldshuh, who plays Noah’s overbearing mother Bina, went much further in her own response, outright condemning Brody’s comments to the New York Post as “right out of Hitler’s playbook.”

One could argue that the media is not an ideal forum for co-workers to work out opposing stances on complex geopolitical issues that also touch on religious identity. You know what could be? A television show that theoretically celebrates Judaism in all its forms!

Of course, that’s not the kind of show “Nobody Wants This” actually is, nor has it ever been. The rom-com began as a featherweight diversion, and remains as such in its recently released third season. Brody’s Noah is a fantasy of a sexy, saintly man who inexplicably thinks Kristen Bell’s self-absorbed podcaster Joanne walks on water, and the ostensible core conflict of their relationship — it’s important to Noah that his partner be Jewish, while Joanne isn’t so sure about conversion — repeatedly dissipates in the warm fog of a romantic kiss. Conflict is more likely to arise from Joanne and her sister-slash-podcasting-partner Morgan (Justine Lupe) squabbling over who the real star of their show is, or Noah’s brother Sasha’s (Timothy Simons) new dye job than any deep-seated disagreements over values or lifestyle.

To watch too many episodes of “Nobody Wants This” in one sitting is to get the same kind of stomachache one develops after eating too many KitKats on an empty stomach. (Maybe that’s why Season 3 dropped so close to Halloween?) Such a sugar rush may be poorly suited to address spirituality and ideology as a matter of disposition, but “Nobody Wants This” further damaged its ability to fully represent the Jewish community with some early creative choices.

Season 1 was widely criticized for a seemingly antagonistic and stereotypical depiction of Jewish women like Bina or Noah’s sister-in-law Esther (Jackie Tohn), who came off as shrewish, possessive obstacles to Joanne and Morgan’s happiness. Subsequent seasons have partly adjusted and brought on new behind-the-scenes voices like co-showrunners Jenni Konner and Bruce Eric Kaplan (“Girls”), but “Nobody Wants This” trends toward lessening friction, not increasing it. (Bina is weirdly chill about Noah proposing to Joanne approximately two seconds after they move in.) And there’s no greater source of friction among American Jews right now than how to feel about the Jewish state in the aftermath of the Hamas attacks in October of 2023.

“Nobody Wants This” premiered nearly a year after that horrific event, and Israel’s total absence from conversations around the Roklov household has always been glaring. If my own life is any judge, it’s pretty much bound to come up at any holiday or family gathering, with opinions falling along predictable generational lines. If part of Noah’s personality is that he’s a more hip and chill kind of religious leader, then him offering a critique of the ongoing occupation would be a perfectly reasonable way to establish that. The last time I opened Instagram, I saw a video from a progressive rabbi based on the Eastside of Los Angeles — basically real-life Noah Roklov! — providing protective presence around the olive harvest in the West Bank. I’d wonder how Bina might feel about her son doing the same, but I’m certain Feldshuh’s statement is the closest I’ll get to finding out.

To be fair, that vacuum is part and parcel with how “Nobody Wants This” approaches Judaism in general: as a minor and easily overcome source of difference, rather than a religion or culture with internal divides of its own. In Season 3, Joanne finally starts taking Jewish education classes as a potential precursor to conversion. But the courses, taught by guest star Sarah Silverman, have almost no substance and disappear for long stretches of the season; they’re mostly there to introduce Andrew Rannells as Joanne’s catty new nemesis. Even the Holocaust, a much more longstanding and less controversial source of Jewish trauma, is almost entirely absent lest its shadow puncture the bubbly mood.

Nor is “Nobody Wants This” the only Jewish show — or even the only Jewish show on Netflix! — to avoid the issue. The animated series “Long Story Short,” from “BoJack Horseman” creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg, didn’t mention Israel in its first season, a deliberate choice to give the characters a chance to establish themselves without becoming proxies for their politics. “I have found that when we talk about it, it takes all the air out of the room,” Bob-Waksberg said in an interview with Variety last year. But “Long Story Short” is set entirely before the Oct. 7 attack, and if that show goes two more years without naming the elephant at the oneg, I’d fault it as well.

“Nobody Wants This” can avoid Israel all it likes. Now, though, the inevitable has happened: Israel has come to it. In the same podcast where she politely distanced herself from Brody, Foster said that “our set is very similar to dinner tables around the world where people are having debate and discussion and disagreeing.” The comment is a tacit admission that, in representing those very dinner tables, Foster is making a massive omission, knowingly sacrificing realism for the blandness of safety. That empty space was always going to fill up eventually; now, it’s happening outside the control and potential catharsis of the show’s crafted narrative.

To be frank, I’m not sure I’d want to see what the “Nobody Wants This” version of that conversation might look like, in part because my own feelings on the matter hew far closer to Brody’s than Foster’s, and certainly Feldshuh’s. “Nobody Wants This” has never been a Norman Lear-style forum for airing the arguments of the day, and would be jarring if the show were to suddenly become one. But if “Nobody Wants This” is a proudly escapist fantasy, there’s a line between a transportive escape and a story whose distance from its supposed subject is too great to maintain even a pretense of plausibility. If Foster and her collaborators don’t want to talk about a painful and acrimonious, yet central part of Jewish American life, then they don’t really want to make a show about Judaism as actual Jews live it. And if “Nobody Wants This” doesn’t want to live up to its creator’s stated aim of representation, then maybe it’s time to wrap things up.