The splashy identity-issue photographs that Asya makes vaguely resemble the film itself, which conveys none of the self-mocking suggested by the title.
NEWYORKER: The Imperialists Are Still Alive!
Asya meets no opposition and brooks little discussion, and the romance is as rigid, as shallow, and as schematic as the sociology.
Meanwhile, Asya tries frantically to reach her brother in Beirut as it is bombarded by Israel (in seeming isolation from world and regional events).
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