"In America" is the title of the new Jim Sheridan movie, but it may also evoke memories of the Leonard Bernstein/Stephen Sondheim tune from "West Side Story." The competiting visions of America in that song were always joyously in dialogue. Sheridan's film does the same, finding joy within stark urbanity.

It helps that the film comes from the perspective of children. Not only does one narrate the film, but Sheridan's actual daughters helped him write the screenplay that is semiautobiographically about a family after the death of its son. One daughter is always shooting her private footage on a camcorder and the film itself is in a way that camcorder writ large. In one scene Christy even presses the fast forward button.

This story of a family relocating in America relies on the simple pleasures: air conditioning, winning ET at a local carnival, and pelting friends with snowballs. The film's grace comes from the charm of naivety amid the grime. The youngest daughter gets most of the laughs with her inquisitive, kids-say-the-darnedest-things nature ("What's a transvestite?"). The parents must then strive to maintain this cheery world with this strength. A reclusive neighbor Mateo goes from being a maniacal Van Gogh-esque figure slashing his work to a sensitive, magical man in need of a family. The film's belief in the inherent goodness of man would make Rousseau and Roberto Benigni happy.

The film has subtle touches as when a film screening of "ET" reveals this to be a period picture. But rather than leave it as a period-picture detail, the film expands on the ET idea, being a stranger in a strange land, finding friendship despite differences, and finally saying goodbye to those who cannot stay. The Irishness of the film is also quite palpable, making the family a believable minority just as the Irish were a century ago. The elder daughter's disenchantment with her Irish homemade Halloween costume strikes a similar chord with the teenage rebellion in "Thirteen." Mateo is an imposing African figure next to the boyish Irish father, and you can feel the father's threatened masculinity in motion. These complexities weave into a tapestry that is engaging in both its realism as well as its dreaminess. When the father invites his daughter to see a moon-bound Mateo waving goodbye, you really want her to be able to see him, to keep that magic alive.

Aside from moments of sentimentality and exaggeration, the film provides emotion through an understanding of character. The film's sunny disposition arrives still intact despite flirting with dark issues: AIDS, drug abuse, mugging, and yes, a white rapper. The result is a feeling for the main character in the film, the elephant in the room, which you never meet but still know through meeting the people he's touched, Frankie. And as the last image of the elder girl cuts to a shot of the New York skyline, she asks in a voiceover whether you can remember her. Indeed, you really can't forget.
-Howard Ho