Donya speaks Dari with fellow Afghans and English with her co-workers, but the cookie factory is run by people who talk to one another in Cantonese. These language differences underscore that Donya is a stranger in a complicated land.
“Fremont” has the demeanor of a kitchen-sink drama but is laced with deadpan absurdism. Shot in black and white and an almost-square screen format, the movie recalls the stark, fitfully comic 1980s work of Aki Kaurismaki and Jim Jarmusch. The eerily self-possessed Donya is reminiscent of Eva, the forthright Hungarian cousin whose arrival disrupts Jarmusch’s “Stranger Than Paradise.”
In addition to work and home, Donya also makes regular visits to Dr. Anthony (Gregg Turkington), a psychiatrist who offers pro bono counseling to refugees. Donya is not very interested in discussing her problems; she just wants the doctor to prescribe sleeping pills for her. The psychiatric sessions reveal less about Donya than about Anthony, who has a quirky obsession with Jack London’s “White Fang.”
All of “Fremont” can be seen as a form of talk therapy, since nearly every plot point is disclosed through conversation. Iranian-born British director Babak Jalali (who co-wrote the film with Italian filmmaker Carolina Cavalli) rarely uses action to reveal character or further the narrative. Viewers probably wouldn’t know, for example, that Donya is having trouble sleeping if she didn’t insist that the doctor authorize sedatives for her. She doesn’t appear groggy, cranky or otherwise sleep-deprived.
In fact, Donya thrives at her low-key workplace, where she’s promoted from wrapping cookies to writing pithy prophecies. She manages to keep this gig even though she produces such meta-messages as, “The fortune you seek is in an another cookie.” Perhaps she survives because her boss (Eddie Tang) is almost as eccentric as Dr. Anthony and views the world with a bemusement similar to Donya’s.
Among the protagonists’ other regular contacts: a cafe proprietor (Fazil Seddiqui), who serves subtitled Turkish-TV soap operas along with dinner, and a middle-aged co-worker (Hilda Schmelling) with an active if unsatisfying dating life. The latter character seems to be Jalali’s idea of a typical American, but at one point she unexpectedly sings an obscure 1970 tune by British cult folkie Vashti Bunyan — a musical aside that’s as improbable as the psychiatrist’s thing for “White Fang.”
Ultimately, Donya takes a road trip and makes a tentative connection with a gentle auto mechanic (“The Bear’s” Jeremy Allen White). Their acquaintance seems promising but is left open-ended. A freeze frame concludes “Fremont” without finishing its story.
The best things in the movie are Laura Valladao’s lushly monochromatic cinematography, Mahmood Schricker’s mournful yet sometimes raucous ethno-jazz score and Zada’s quietly resolute performance. (She’s never acted professionally before but did work as a TV presenter in Afghanistan.) The oddball supporting characters are mostly just distracting. “Fremont” is poignant when it evokes Donya’s losses, the plight of the people she left behind in Afghanistan and the young woman’s modest hopes for the future. But it punctures that mood by depicting Donya’s new home as populated in large part by tiresome cranks.
Unrated. At the AFI Silver. Contains strong language. In English, Dari and Cantonese with subtitles. 91 minutes.