After her husband leaves her, Muna (Faour) is struggling to raise her teen son Fadi (Muallem) in the West Bank, fighting through checkpoints and taking long detours around the Israeli wall to get to work. So when she wins the US Green Card lottery, she and Fadi head to live with her sister Raghda (Abbass) and her family outside Chicago. But the adjustment isn't easy for either of them, as they face a new kind of oppression but also find friends in surprising places. Meanwhile, Raghda starts thinking she wants to move back to Palestine.

The opening scenes buzz with the chaos of life for this non-religious family in an increasingly restrictive society. By contrast, when they reach the Midwest, the expansive silence is a huge contrast. But Muna is sure that "it's better to live as immigrants in a strange country than as prisoners in ours", so she does everything she can to make it work. Even as she runs into deep obstacles everywhere she turns, eventually taking a job serving burgers at White Castle despite her qualifications and experience as an accountant.

Even with such a serious topic, the film maintains a bright, often comical tone. At immigration, when asked, "Occupation?", Muna says, matter-of-factly, "Yes". These are lively people bursting with personality, and both Faour and Abbas find real resonance in their roles. Abbas is especially engaging as a woman who is disillusioned by the American dream but doesn't have a home to go back to. And Muallem is also terrific as a young guy facing both the standard new-school issues as well as rampant peer pressure and prejudice, taken under the wing of his hilarious cousin Salma (Shawkat).

As the film progresses, there are a couple of clunky plot points that force various confrontations and revelations, but the film remains firmly character-based, which makes both the story and the issues much more personal and resonant. And along the way, Dabis' script touches on some extremely emotional themes as well as some uncomfortable truths about Western society. And in the end, it delivers its message about tolerance and diversity with grace and humour. A small but extremely important gem of a film.

Dylan (Curry) is trying to hide from his violent dad (Roe), who turns even more brutal when Dylan stand up to him to protect his mum (Conroy). Dylan's next-door friend Kylie (O'Neill) helps him escape, and she's trying to get away from her family as well. Together they hitch a ride from a barge-driver (Bendito) down the canal into Dublin. But the streets are a bit meaner than they expected, and for everyone who helps them there's someone else who may want to do them harm.

While this is essentially a short film extended with several montage sequences, Daly directs with a sure hand, using gritty cinematography and an edgy tone to keep things moving. The black and white opening sequences in their homes are shockingly horrific, and as colour starts to filter onto the screen we feel relief that they've left the violence behind. Although the night streets are definitely not safe either. And for every light-hearted encounter or moment of liberated playfulness there's a scene of raw fear.

O'Neill and Curry are bracingly natural in the roles, with their open faces and foul-mouthed but good-natured dialog. We can see the hopefulness in their eyes as they search the streets for Dylan's runaway brother. And their interaction with the people along the way bristles with humour and honesty. It all gets a little heavy-handed when a busker (Jimanez) tells Dylan about his namesake Bob, which later leads to a surreal encounter with an impersonator (Rea). But at least this gives the filmmaker an excuse to include some terrific music.

There are lots of other people who cross their paths over this Christmas night, but Daly keeps the focus extremely tight on the kids. Alongside their spark of independence, it's clear that they are children after all; they know they'll have to go home eventually, if only to get a decent meal. And for everything that happens to them, there's never a moment of sentimentality or moralising. Which is perhaps the most remarkable thing of all.

Six months after their son was killed in a tsunami, Janet and Paul (Beart and Sewell) are still living in Phuket nursing their grief. But Janet is convinced that he must be alive and living up-river in Burma, so convinces Paul to fund a desperate expedition. Their first guide (Pankratok) is a bit of a crook, but they soon link with Thaksin (Osthanugrah) and another expat, Kim (Dreyfus). And the further they venture into this strange region, the more bizarre things get.

The title refers to spirits that are trapped between life and death, and this is clearly a reference to Janet and Paul themselves. Their offhanded bitterness is palpable, as is Janet's obsessive longing and Paul's patient yearning to help. And these emotions just get stronger as the story progresses. Soon Janet is a crazed nutcase, dragging them into increasingly dangerous territory. Frankly, we just wish Paul would leave her to her inner demons. Because we know it can't end well.

Filmmaker Du Welz has a lurid visual sensibility that captures the nightmarish aspects of the settings (and some of the beauty). This is dense and oppressive, but we go with it due to a glimmer of hope on the horizon. As it progresses, though, the parallels with Don't Look Now (parents dealing with grief over a child's death) and Apocalypse Now (voyage upriver into hell) give way to some seriously indulgent filmmaking. And once he abandons the emotional resonance of the premise, Du Welz and his cast are up the creek without a paddle.

Eventually it devolves into a nasty horror movie about a demonic army of jungle vampire children. And while it's deeply creepy and even stomach-churningly gruesome (which is a good thing in a horror film), it's also utterly vacuous without characters we have a connection to or a story with any logic. In the end, the only way to see this is as a symbolic journey into the tortured brains of grieving parents. But by the time we get there, we don't care.