Out of Frame: Amreeka

Earlier this month at a D.C. screening at National Geographic’s headquarters, director Cherien Dabis said that watching films like Truffaut’s The 400 Blows were what finally allowed her to make her first feature. Realizing that one really could make a great story out of the experiences of one’s own life, Dabis decided to write what she knew. Of course, for every Truffaut there are a hundred writers and filmmakers for whom “write what you know” is a recipe for self-indulgent art-as-therapy. Great for your own personal journey, usually a drag for the rest of us. Which is why it’s always such a joy when movies tagged as “semi-autobiographical” turn out as thoroughly winning as Dabis’ Amreeka . What makes the film so enjoyable is Dabis’ refusal to stoop to easy culture clash stereotypes for laughs or weigh it down with too much political messaging or maudlin sentimentality. Don’t get me wrong; it’s funny, it’s politically charged, and it’s deeply felt, but the director keeps skillful control over all of these aspects to maintain balance. What makes it even more enjoyable is the cast, particularly Nisreen Faour as Muna, a Palestinian single mother who leaves her job and her extended family when the opportunity arises for her to emigrate from the occupied territories to the United States. The chance to get her son away from the police state and constant threat of violence that is currently their daily routine is too good to pass up, despite the fact that she is giving up a good banking job to move to a country where, she soon finds out, no one will hire her apart from the local White Castle. Faour delivers an Oscar-worthy performance, displaying not only deep wells of vulnerability, kindness, and insecurity as she tries to make a new life while living with her sister’s family in the Chicago suburbs, but also surprisingly adept comic

timing. First time actor Melkar Muallem also shines as Muna’s teenage son Fadi. He’s a whip-smart, geeky kid, but his academic aptitude — always a social liability in American schools — doesn’t do him nearly as much harm as his status as an Arab in the hostile environment of suburban American in the early days of the Iraq War. Nevermind that neither Muni nor Fadi is Iraqi or Muslim. His skin color and accent are all that’s required for classmates to label him a terrorist, and the expected fights ensue. His greatest defender is his cousin Salma ( Arrested Development ’s Alia Shawkat), a fiery, intimidatingly smart, politically conscious teen who helps her awkward cousin fit in and fends off the closed-minded meatheads who harass him. Any guesses which character here represents Dabis’ experiences as a Palestinian-American teen in the Midwest during the first Gulf War? Things steadily fall apart for Muni and Fadi, and for her sister’s family, who have trouble paying for their mortgage when her physician husband’s patients start leaving his practice for whiter doctors. The lighter comedic touches at the outset are replaced with a despairing tone, but the director never lets that darkness take over. She’s dropped enough hopeful notes in along the way that we really believe this family can overcome whatever is thrown at them. Dabis’ ending comes rather abruptly, and seems at first glance far too sunny in light of what’s come just before. From a narrative perspective, it might be problematic; but considering the fact that she came out of the sort of environment depicted on screen to tell this story and become such a talented filmmaker, the hopefulness she ends up with in the film is hardly a fantasy. Amreeka is now playing at E Street, Bethesda Row , and Shirlington .

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Out of Frame: Amreeka