Viewers may take some comfort discovering that in Afghanistan, as in here, children's fairy tales begin with those time honored magical words of "Once upon a time." If there's one truth to be extracted from this, it's that storytelling is a universal constant, whether the story's teller hails from Kabul, Taiwan or New York. In OSAMA, an old woman soothes her distraught granddaughter (Marina Golbahari) to sleep with an oft told tale about an Afghan boy who grew so tired of working, he wished he could become a girl. All he needed was a rainbow to walk under and he would get his wish. This tale comes to represent an especially ironic significance in OSAMA, for the young girl in question will be forced to disguise herself as a boy, only not for the selfish motivations given in the aforementioned tale. No. There exists no "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" optimism in this despondent corner of the earth. In the autocratic, modern day nightmare that is Taliban governed Afghanistan, this girl is forced to undertake the dangerous cross dressing task at hand for her very survival.

OSAMA's story isn't a happy one and, filled with the second universal constant that is suffering, is fraught with an existential malaise indicative of a cultural temperament which has subjugated women for ages. Written and directed by Siddiq Barmak and winner of this year's Foreign Language Film at the Golden Globes, OSAMA is being touted as the first Afghan picture to be produced since the so-called fall of the Taliban. Inspired by a true story, Barmak's film isn't so much an act of political defiance so much as it appears a stepping stone to cultural intervention.

Once upon a time, Barmak's film asserts, being a woman in Afghanistan essentially meant having a forfeited life. Under Taliban rule, women can't work and cannot even step outdoors without being accompanied by a male. It's no accident that in OSAMA, these faceless, voiceless victims of an impious regime are given no names--they are stripped entirely of any suggestion of identity. "Osama" is the name improvised for film's heroine once she assumes the disguise of manhood. The implication is plainly obvious--these are all the unfortunate orphan offspring of a regressive, tyrannical leader. OSAMA is bleak and heartwrenching, but never aggressively so. Barmak seems to be acting act more as a commentator than an outright activist, lending film a reserved, isolated tone that, while still ultimately upsetting, never quite registers as a blunt shock to the system the way one might expect.

OSAMA begins almost documentary style with shaky handheld footage, the camera trained on a local boy named Espandi (Arif Herati). The lively Espandi intones makeshift spiritual mutterings such as "This keeps all misfortunes away," in exchange for dollar bills. Barmak seems to be extolling film as not simply a means of observation but of purification as well. From here camera captures a demonstration undertaken by women demanding work and other basic simple civil freedoms. This protest is squashed by taliban officers who roll in in black turbans and pick up trucks, employing water hoses to clear the melee and locking up some dissenters in cages, a lingering metaphor which will be repeated again near film's grim finale. Sequence concludes with Taliban officers clubbing the camers lens, forcing a brsik blackout, inherently stating NO WITNESSES WELCOME HERE.

From here pic introduces our twelve year old heroine and her mother (Zubaida Sahar), who has lost her job working at a hospital. With no hope of reclaiming her wages, her husband and brother both dead, the family faces a dire forecast of starvation. The last ditch plan is hatched to disguise our heroine as a boy, even though the penalty of such an offense is death, and she is given a job at a local shop. But circumstances almost immediately go awry. Our heroine is rounded up along with the township's other similarly aged boys and sent to a Taliban training camp. Initially protected by the aforementioned Espandi, who knows her identity and christens her Osama, her effeminate features and sensitive nature mark her out for taunting and misery. Rest of pic explores Osama's days trying to hopelessly conceal her identity, and her eviscerated fate when she is ultimately discovered.

Working mostly with a cast of non-actors, OSAMA strongly benefits from the marvelous presence of Golbahari, who gives one of the most passionate and heartbreakingly real performances to grace screens in ages. The actress has a wonderful, quiet scene after she has been shorn of her locks in which she plants a bundle in earth as if somehow in time she will rise again; unfortunately, hers is an innocence that is forever decimated. While the girl disguised as a boy storyline is not original ("Yentl," "Baran"), Golbahari's sad eyes filled with confusion, fear and paranoia and soft features make her a graceful and sympathetic character and make viewers empathize with her miserable plight. Forget "The Passion of the Christ." The tale of OSAMA is dare I say it a real crucifixion more in need of attention and action right now, and Golbahari makes for a most compelling, most innocent screen martyr.

While most of film's characters aren't nearly as developed as Golbahari's (And hers is a characterization that owes more to reaction and expressions rather than action and dialogue), the other main performance standout is Herati's as the heroic Espandi. At first prepared to give our heroine's identity away unless he is compensated, the lengths he goes to to protect Osama in the training camp is brave and hopeful. The sight of Herati emotionally crumbling when Osama is discovered is as wrenching a sight as one is likely to see this year.

And yet OSAMA is not all torment and woe. There are a few clumsy laughs to be had in sequence in which an old Mullah Sahib instructs the young future rebels of the camp on hygiene and ablutions. In particular, the proper ablution procedure to be done after a wet dream. While scene borders on the absurd, Barmak does impress upon viewers these unfortunate children's impending adulthood. Sequence also foreshadows the bodily function with regards to womanhood that, a bit too predictably, will reveal Osama's secret.

One of the curious strengths of OSAMA is that Barmak employs a straightforward narrative approach, free of easy sentiment that in a Hollywood production would have almost certainly been used. There is no tender, operatic score to proclaim "Cry Here." Yes, the underlining theme is that Osamas's world, and that of others like her, is genuinely an unjust one, but Barmak doesn't over dramatize or strain to get point across. Nor does he have to. While Osama's ultimate fate is less than death but nevertheless soul crushing, viewers may find themselves emotionally detached from film's events. This is the correct approach and the only way Barmak can tell his tale. The suggestion appears to be, how can audiences on these shores in these times with our civil freedoms begin to comprehend this level of barbarism? There is no way we can identify with this sort of brutality, but if Osama is representative of a lifetime of Afghan sufferings, maybe we can become just a little more enlightened, and moved to put a stop to this nightmare.

Recommended: Yes