A scene from "Caramel"
From the first moments of Lebanese writer-director Nadine Labaki's "Caramel," you know what you're in for. There's a pop-Arab soundtrack that bridges traditional and contemporary music, a whimsical montage of different women working their way through the streets of Beirut, and a seriocomic encounter between the beautiful heroine and the handsome fellow who's clearly smitten with her (a fact she hasn't yet noticed). "Caramel" is an ode to female bonding -- it's a beauty-shop movie, for God's sake! -- a celebration of female sensuality and a series of interlocking love stories, and it positively revels in the conventions of those genres. It's a reassuring and delicious film, but in no sense an adventurous one.
Still, there's no doubt that Labaki gets extra credit for making a film in an Arab country that casually depicts friendship between Muslims and Christians, never mentions violence or political strife, and in its own gentle fashion sidles up against social issues that remain sensitive in that part of the world. Layale, the film's heroine (played by the luscious Labaki herself, a Penélope Cruz-style looker) is sleeping with a married man, while one of the employees at Layale's beauty salon, Rima (Joanna Moukarzel), is confronting her own attraction to women. Mind you, all this is presented Arab cinema-style, with no unauthorized touching between unmarried people. All we see of Layale's illicit liaisons is a parked car with two figures inside, while Rima's big lesbian encounter involves washing a winsome brunette's hair. With plenty of creamy conditioner!