Amreeka

fashionable political-correctness is so rampant in recent films like wayne kramer's self-righteous immigrant saga crossing over, tom mccarthy's saccharine immigrant saga the visitor and julia loktev's suicide-bomber saga day night day night, that i kept expecting amreeka's immigrant drama-a debut feature by writer-director cherien dabis-to be similarly preachy, doomy and obnoxious. (even its title, an arabic pun, scarily suggests a 21st-century version of kafka's amerika.) instead, amreeka hops over every one of its predictable, carefully laid-out hurdles. amreeka isn't great, but it's a relief when a movie that touches on america's post-9/11 unease regarding muslims and the arab world isn't full of condemnation.

dabis' humane view goes from middle east victimization to midwestern-american paranoia: muna farah (nisreen faour), a divorced palestinian banker, leaves the occupied west bank to live in illinois with her married sister raghda (hiam abbass). their reunion-including muna's high school-age son fadi and raghda's doctor-husband and three daughters-relays the distinct immigrant experience of constant alienation. "we're like visitors," fadi complains and muna answers. "better visitors than prisoners in our own country."

amreeka's agenda isn't simply bush-bashing red state hatred. it faces up to liberty's realistic limits-both in a riven holy land and an economically stressed land of plenty. this avoids the insult of most american dream propaganda (whether pro or con) because dabis' two female heroines neither whine nor blame; she follows the strength inside their humility.

it starts with the heartbreak of global injustice. back in ramallah, muna was rejected by a selfish, philandering husband; her daily life was so circumscribed by border guards and suspicion that when a u.s. customs officer asks "occupation?" she automatically responds "yes, it is occupied for many years now." muna doesn't expect privileges; she readily works a fast-food counter even though "two degrees and 10 years experience only get me hamburger." and she smiles.

ample-bodied yet fast-moving, muna is intelligent and immediately likable as is the severe raghda. both faour and abbass display a richness of experience that recalls the women in satyajit ray movies-a combination of beauty and forbearance rarely required of hollywood actresses. the slapstick opening scenes of muna's irritation at her ramallah bank or behind the wheel of her economy car are done with a serene, comic patience. raghda's older-sister intensity shows a different mode of survival; but she's also loving. this sisterhood is not dabis' overt subject, but it gives the film a gratifying subtext.

think of the way a loathsome post-9/11 film like towelhead took advantage of female abuse merely to exploit trendy political pessimism. amreeka presents an authentically fresh take on social dissatisfaction through female experience. faour is never pathetic like shohreh aghdashloo's role as a long-suffering iranian wife in house of sand and fog, and abbass shows the same fierce righteousness that made her small role in munich -putting on an earring while addressing the principal of fairness-unforgettable. in a scene of near-perfect female intuition, dabis shows the sisters mistaking each other's sadness (frustration vs. homesickness), yet the irony gets clarified-and appeased-during an ethnic-store shopping spree.

as amreeka bounces around the difficulty of assimilation (a classroom scene where students parrot political positions); post-9/11 paranoia (new americans subjected to al qaeda terrorist suspicion); and culture clash (muna connects with a polish-jewish widower), it modestly tallies the ways two women persevere. -- amreeka directed by cherien dabis runtime: 96 min.