![]() ![]() In the largely crescendo-free “Fremont,” the story’s flashiest spike happens when Donya finally decides to use her new power as a fortune cookie writer to send out messages to the world. As the film’s wistful lead, Zada gives the minor-key impression of an intriguing personality worth getting to know better and, who knows, maybe even solve the mysteries of the universe together. Communicating with expressively wide-set eyes and the resolute gaze of someone who always knows and observes more than they admit, Zada’s performance helps achieve the film’s tricky balance, which Jalali aids with smart framing choices and the use of negative space. The biggest achievement of Jalali here is the precise tone that he strikes with his mild-mannered movie: never cutesy (an especially impressive feat considering the film’s whimsically Sundance-y premise), and always several feet deeper in its themes and deliberations around human isolation than meets the eye. Shot in misty black-and-white and co-scripted by Jalali and Carolina Cavalli with a straight-faced sense of humor, “Fremont” is a quasi-comedy that strikes a vibe akin to the films of Jim Jarmusch. (“People with memories write beautifully,” the patriarch wisely and rightly suggests.) And finally, Donya can lean a little on her newfound therapist (Gregg Turkington), a pro-bono dispenser of advice who (in a hilarious scene) relies on the Jack London novel “White Fang” a little too much, to help alleviate his patient’s ongoing restlessness. There is also the kindly Chinese couple, Donya’s employers, who finally promote the young woman from wrapping the cookies to writing the messages within. She’s friendly with an amusing waiter at the unpopular restaurant Donya frequents, who tries to hide his affinity for Turkish soap operas. Elsewhere, her neighbors Suleyman and Salim can be trusted for philosophical pep talks at all hours. Does she deserve to find happiness abroad when people are still dying back home? Is she worthy of making connections with good people, much less daring to dream about finding love?ĭonya is at least surrounded by nice acquaintances, including various delightful co-workers who make smalltalk about their daydreams to win a million dollars and then invest it all in a community pool. While her new life isn’t necessarily terrible, self-inflected feelings of shame haunt Donya. (“Afghan,” she corrects one of those well-meaning but uninformed people who erroneously call her “Afghanistani.”) ![]() Once a translator for the American troops back in Kabul, Donya had been able to flee Afghanistan through her post, settling in a country where some don’t even know the proper way of addressing her identity and heritage. Still, most of Donya’s sleeplessness seems to stem from something far more troubling: survivor’s guilt. It’s certainly not in her dead-end job or uncomplicated social life. Donya can’t sleep for several reasons, though the aforementioned morsel recognizes at least one: What she’s looking for in life seems to be elsewhere.
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