Born in Cologne and a German and American literature and film student at the University of Hamburg, Angelina Maccarone burst on the scene in 1997 with her festival pleasing Everything Will Be Fine. The German has since developed the screenplay for Fremde Haut (Unveiled) with Judith Kaufman and collaborated with lead actress Jasmin Tabatabai to refine the script to better reflect the Iranian culture, resulting in nuanced character study that is several cuts above the usual Gay and Lesbian film festival fare. American distributor Wolfe Releasing should be able to successfully book the film in a number of U.S. arthouses before its mid-April release date.

The narrative parallels Boys Don't Cry in numerous ways but without the transgendered confusion of the protagonist's sexual identity. In this film, the heroine attempts to pass as a man for survival purposes, and the viewer is asked to suspend belief to a much greater degree than they are in the grittier true life story about Teena Brandon.

Under the threat of death for lesbian behavior, 30-year old Fariba Tabrizi (Tabatabai) arms herself with forged travel documents and boards a Tehran flight to Germany, leaving her lover (Shirin) behind. Once out from Iranian airspace, Fariba sneaks into the plane's cramped restroom for an illegal smoke and sheds her traditional chador. The ploy doesn't work. Almost immediately after landing, Fariba is arrested and deposited at the cramped airport detention facility, where she befriends student activist Siamak (Navid Akhavan).

Depressed about possible deportation, Siamak "conveniently" downs a bottle of Drano just as Fariba is about to be returned to Iran. She borrows his clothes, cuts her hair, dons his thick glasses, stuffs his body into her suitcase, and amazingly passes herself off as Siamak. Just how those highly organized Germans fail to mount a thorough search for the now missing Fariba is left as unexplained as is Fariba's ease in assuming the activist's persona. Since Siamak had been granted temporary political asylum, she is transferred to monitored housing in a nearby village, where she must live with male roommates.

Somehow Fariba passes as a shy man, who discretely must find ways to hide her identity. That means no public urinals or public showers—a real challenge after finding work in a sauerkraut factory. Even her sympathetic roommate complains about the stink. So we see Fariba awaken in the middle of the night to shower and then deftly apply makeup to feign perpetual 5 o'clock shadow. Disguising feminine body language is problematic, especially when rolling a bowling ball for the first time, but primarily Fariba passes by remaining silent as much as possible, severely restraining all movement and gestures, and relying on German ignorance of Iranian culture.

Mistaken identities have been around even before Shakespeare wrote his first comedy, and a mysterious, complicated love relationship eventually develops between Fariba and co-worker Anne (Anneke Kim Samau of The Constant Gardener). Add this to a collection of plot contrivances that fail to lend credibility to the story, but that is not what makes the film as gripping as it is.

Besides its high production values, the imperfect film's strongest aspect remains Tabatabai's understated performance as a conflicted lesbian. She must constantly repress her sexual feelings and identity--whether due to religious intolerance or societal disapproval—and must cope with the loneliness of being cut off from family, culture, and a lover in order to survive. Her eyes and tentative movements reveal all that is necessary to get to know her character, along with the mournful tones of her speech. One unforgettable scene occurs when her German companions insensitively belittle the Iranian culture; she silences their prejudices forever with a Persian chant.

Taken together, both the German and English titles reflect the main themes that predominate--the “foreign skin" (German title) that Fariba must continually don to disguise her sexuality, combined with the gradual “unveiling" allows her to share more fully with a few trusted souls. Although the specific narrative is a real stretch, its broad spectrum still resonates accurately to make Maccarone's Unveiled a laudable labor of love.