Courtesy of Strand Releasing

Eran Riklis’s A Borrowed Identity starts out on a humorous note, as we see young Eyad (Razi Gabareen) attempting to improve his family’s TV reception by adjusting the roof antenna, while his father Salah (Ali Suliman) shouts instructions out the window. Though Eyad loses his footing, falls and is knocked unconscious, the generally blasé reaction of his family lets us know he’ll be OK. We learn that Eyad and his family – Salah, mother (Laëtitia Eïdo), grandmother (Marlene Bajali) and several brothers – are Arabs living in the Israeli town of Tira. Although the film, which is set in the 1980s and early 90s, retains moments of levity throughout, it soon becomes a serious coming-of-age story about a young man who is caught between two often clashing cultures.

According to a 2013 census, over 20% of Israel’s population are Arabs, citizens of Israel who consider themselves Palestinian by nationality. A Borrowed Identity is based on the semi-autobiographical novel Dancing Arabs by Sayed Kashua, who also wrote the screenplay. It’s a clear-eyed look at the difficult situation of people who are not full members of the society in which they live, as well as the well-intentioned attempts by those in power at bridging that gap. In one early, mordantly funny scene, young Eyad casually announces, “Mom, I brought home my Jew,” the result of a school program endeavoring to bring together Palestinian and Jewish children.

We learn that Eyad’s father attended university as a youth, but his pro-Palestine activities once led to arrest and imprisonment, after which he could only find menial work. (When the children in Eyad’s class are asked what their fathers do for a living, the boy refuses to admit that Salah is a fruit picker, insisting repeatedly that he is a “terrorist,” to the growing rage of his teacher.) Thus Salah is tremendously excited when the extremely bright Eyad (played as a teen by the soulful Tawfeek Barhom) is accepted into a prestigious Israeli boarding school, where he is the only Arab student. Predictably, things don’t go that smoothly for him – he’s bullied by some toughs and is generally ridiculed, particularly for his accent. (The “p” sound doesn’t exist in Arabic; at one point Eyad refers to the band “Deeb Burble.”) He also falls in love with Naomi (Danielle Kitzis), an attractive Jewish schoolmate whose feelings are reciprocal, and becomes close with Yonatan (Michael Moshonov), a darkly funny, alt-rock loving kid with muscular dystrophy, as well as the latter’s mother (Yaël Abecassis). “Sometimes I forget you’re an Arab,” Yonatan remarks at one point. “Me too,” replies Eyad. “Don’t worry,” says his pal. “Someone will always remind you.”

Courtesy of Strand Releasing

As the Gulf War rages mostly in the background – we see TV news reports and there are gas mask drills – Eyad is reminded of his status when soldiers conduct humiliating ID checks. During a visit home, as his family roots for Saddam Hussein’s SCUD-missile attack on Israel, Eyad calls Naomi to make sure she’s OK. Thus his mother discovers (and quietly supports) the relationship, though the couple initially keep it hidden at school and from her parents. In school Eyad speaks up in a literature class, pointedly questioning the negative symbolism of Arab characters in Israeli literature, winning him respect among some of his classmates. As his Hebrew accent improves (thanks to Naomi’s help) and he becomes somewhat more comfortable in his surroundings, Eyad remains conflicted; his is an uneasy, fractured existence.

Riklis has explored Israeli-Palestinian and Arab-Jewish relations before in his films (Lemon Tree, The Syrian Bride, Zaytoun), always highlighting the personal, human side of the conflict through the everyday interactions of people who are deeply affected by it, though they may not be political-minded themselves (i.e., the majority of humanity). Though the film’s surprise resolution is not completely convincing, A Borrowed Identity is a compelling depiction of a complicated, seemingly irresolvable situation and of people who are trying to make the best of their lives, as well as the lives of others. We should be grateful to Riklis for reminding us that these people exist.

A Borrowed Identity opens this Friday at Lincoln Plaza Cinema.

—Marina Zogbi