'Miral' fails to deliver the story of an average Palestinian woman

"Miral is a red flower. It grows on the side of the road. You've probably seen millions of them."

So reads a subtitle at the outset of director Julian Schnabel's "Miral," supposedly to announce that this story of a young woman, Miral, coming of age amid war and violence, is one that has occurred countless times before. But "Miral" gives no real evidence to support why this particular story deserves screen time.

A film like "Miral," about a young Palestinian's view of Israeli-Palestinian relations, is going to be contentious for anyone with the least bit of feeling for either side of the conflict. But the problems with this film are not its politics, but the film itself.

Miral (Freida Pinto, from "Slumdog Millionaire") is a Palestinian who comes of age at the outset of the 1987 intifada. But, as Pinto's voice-over explains, her story begins a quarter-century before her birth, with the opening of an orphanage for Palestinian children founded by Hind Husseini ("Lemon Tree's" Hiam Abbass).

From there, the story abruptly switches to Miral's mother, Nadia (Yasmine Elmasri), who runs away from an abusive home and is imprisoned for punching an Israeli woman on a bus. While in jail, Nadia meets Fatima (Ruba Blal), serving three life sentences after a failed suicide bombing.

Miral's story takes up the bulk of the latter half - how she ended up in Husseini's care, her puppy-love affair with a roguish Palestinian activist (Omar Metwally) and her own stabs at activism.

Schnabel and screenwriter Rula Jebreal, from her own semiautobiographical novel, seek to tell the story of an average Palestinian woman maturing during this time, but their fatal flaw is introducing Miral's story via the other women - especially Husseini - who is more interesting than the selfish, pigheaded, typically teenage Miral.

Schnabel's films have shown a talent for bringing out the life and energy of his subjects, in the biographies "Basquiat," "Before Night Falls" and "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly." But those figures were extraordinary people; Miral is not.

Schnabel's style seems out of step with his subject, evidenced by scenes of a funeral paired with the plaintive "Down There by the Train" by fractured folkie Tom Waits. It's unexpected and jarring, and makes little sense in scoring the death of a Palestinian woman. Similarly, Jebreal has problems integrating history and characterization. Miral discusses policy and strategy between kisses with her boyfriend, draining each character of their strength and passion.

This is not to say that looking at the bigger issue of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the eyes of a teenage girl couldn't be fascinating and shouldn't be told, especially to shed light on a greater theme. But Schnabel, who has said he knew nothing of the conflict until he read Jebreal's novel, and Jebreal herself, seem out of step with the movie that they've made.