In the corridors of Fremont, the California East Bay becomes more than a mere backdrop—it transforms into a character, a silent witness to the struggles of its inhabitants. Babak Jalali’s visually captivating film, shot in stunning black and white, invites us into the life of Donya (portrayed by Anaita Wali Zada). Donya, an Afghan refugee who once served as a translator for the United States Army during the war, now finds herself in a fortune cookie factory, penning sentiments for others while grappling with her own.
The film’s deliberate pacing mirrors Donya’s existence: a monotonous routine from the factory to her therapist’s office, nights spent staring at the ceiling in her twin bed. Survivor’s guilt weighs heavily on her—a burden that taints any notion of moving forward. How can she embrace love and joy when her homeland remains ensnared in conflict?
Fremont thrives on quietude. Its sound design is a symphony of breaths, tapping fingers, and the occasional resonant score. Conversations—sparse but impactful—form the backbone of the film. Donya’s interactions with those around her—a nosy yet amiable work friend, an elderly restaurant worker, and an Afghan woman in her apartment complex—reveal her yearning for connection. But true understanding remains elusive, always at arm’s length.
Anaita Wali Zada’s performance is a revelation. As Donya, she embodies exhaustion and stoicism, punctuated by subtle smirks and witty retorts. Her expressive eyes convey a depth of emotion—the woman beneath the shame, the survivor seeking solace. Laura Valladao’s intimate black-and-white cinematography captures every nuance, from close-ups that reveal texture to moments of quiet reflection.
Fremont doesn’t shout; it whispers. It’s a slow burn that lingers, inviting us to witness Donya’s journey—a search for intimacy, resilience, and quiet strength. Jalali’s film, like its protagonist, finds beauty in stillness.
Email:neill@outloudculture.com
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