Fremont

Filmed in stunning black and white, Babak Jalali's "Fremont" is visually captivating as it renders California’s East Bay as a character of its own. However, it never outshines the film's focus: Donya (Anaita Wali Zada). Donya works at a fortune cookie factory, writing the sentiments inside. But as she doles out fortunes for those around her, she struggles to clinch her own. 

Donya can’t sleep. She spends her nights in a twin bed staring at the ceiling and her days going from the cookie factory to her awkward but thoughtful therapist. Donya is an Afghan refugee (as is Zada) who served as a translator for the United States Army during the war. For this, she carries survivor’s guilt that sours the idea of “moving on.” Donya feels that a life of love and enjoyment is unfair when so many Afghans live in a country plagued by war. As she vies for an existence of connection and contentment, “Fremont,” and intrinsically, its heroine, are marked by a feeling of displacement. 

Donya floats through her days with little stimulation or decision, a stringent routine followed by a lackluster evening of wakefulness. The film’s sound design holds a sharp presence that absorbs us within her world. “Fremont” is quiet, and its silence has a reason, holding the weight and impact of conversations in the film’s dialogue-heavy format. From deep breaths to fingers tapping on desks, the occupancy of a character in a scene is often the only sound we’re afforded. When the score is present, its inclusion is resonant, marking a moment of uncertainty or transition. 

Conversation is the backbone of “Fremont,” which is written by Jalali and Carolina Cavalli. Donya is the film’s first and foremost priority, and it's not just her moments in solitude but her limited conversations with those around her that color her perspective. From a somewhat nosy but amiable work friend to an elderly restaurant worker she spends evenings watching soap operas with, Donya is always at arm’s length from true connection. An Afghan woman in her apartment complex is the closest thing she has to a friendship of mutual understanding, but her husband despises Donya, seeing her as a traitor for having worked with the United States Army.

Zada is excellent as Donya, undoubtedly reaching from a sincere source as a refugee herself. Donya’s exhausted stoicism and touches of sarcasm excellently paint a woman who is tired but trying. As low lids, slow blinks, and a still body express her spiritual depletion, when Zada triggers a subtle smirk or a witty response, we see a shadow of the woman Donya is beneath the shame. Laura Valladao's black and white images are incredibly intimate, filled with various stunning close-ups, where expression and texture fill the screen with feeling.