Nazneen (Tannishtha Chatterjee, third from left) arrives in 1980s London for an arranged marriage with Chanu (Satish Kaushik, fourth from left) and a new life with Bibi (lana Rahman, left) and Shahana (Naeema Begum, second from left) in the movie Brick Lane. Nazneen (Tannishtha Chatterjee, third from left) arrives in 1980s London for an arranged marriage with Chanu (Satish Kaushik, fourth from left) and a new life with Bibi (lana Rahman, left) and Shahana (Naeema Begum, second from left) in the movie Brick Lane. (Chris Raphael/Sony Pictures Classics/MongrelMedia)

Brick Lane may be a movie about Bangladeshi immigrants in Britain, but it has more than a few things in common with The Wizard of Oz. The heroine, a young wife named Nazneen, is a stranger in a strange land, and fervently believes there's no place like home. Furthermore, both stories dwell on an item of sequined clothing. In Oz, it's Dorothy's ruby slippers; in Brick Lane, it's a green spangled top Nazneen has assembled in her home sewing operation. In both cases, the garment symbolizes a life that seems out of reach.

Brick Lane spans the period from the early '80s to just after the 9/11 attacks. While living in the U.K., Nazneen dreams constantly of her homeland; the film is filled with idyllic flashbacks to her youth. Nazneen's early life wasn't perfect — in one of the opening scenes, her depressed mother drowns herself — but Bangladesh is presented as impossibly lush, a place of dew-tipped rice paddies and billowing, jewel-toned silks. Then, a teenage Nazneen, adorned with golden jewelry, is set adrift — in more ways than one — on a small boat in a swollen river. She is bound for an arranged marriage, and, with it, a home in Brick Lane, a predominantly Bengali neighbourhood of London.

When the film shifts to London, it's like The Wizard of Oz in reverse — it's not shot in black and white, but it might as well be. Colour seems to leach from the screen; the backdrop settles into an almost surly grey. Instead of grass, trees and warm sunlight, it's asphalt and concrete. In Brick Lane, nothing grows, except Nazneen's discontent.

Nazneen's (arranged) husband, Chanu, is a rotund, gentle buffoon who snores at night and drones on about Scottish philosopher David Hume during the day, but has an unswerving adoration for his family. All Chanu really wants is respect, but he can't get any at work; he resigns in disgust after being passed over for a promotion. It's no better at home, where his eldest daughter, Shahana, rolls her eyes and corrects his English when he asks, "What is the wrong with you?" His wife, meanwhile, strikes an attitude of subservient endurance (some of their most tender moments involve her scraping the corns from his feet). Although he has lived in the UK since 1979, Chanu despairs of ever being accepted by his adopted country. After 9/11, Chanu fears for his family's future in Britain, and resolves to return to Bangladesh.

Nazneen falls into an affair with the young, handsome Karim (Christopher Simpson) in Brick Lane. Nazneen falls into an affair with the young, handsome Karim (Christopher Simpson) in Brick Lane. (Chris Raphael/Sony Pictures Classics/MongrelMedia)

To help out with the family's finances, Nazneen starts taking in sewing from a young, handsome gentleman named Karim, who looks like a Dollywood hero and talks like British hip-hop star Mike Skinner (aka The Streets). Even Karim's political speeches for a local Muslim group are delivered with the nonchalant charisma and shrugging gestures of an MC. Between Karim's lithe, curved form and the droning, roly-poly Chanu, it's no contest — and so Nazneen and Karim begin a furtive affair.

If Brick Lane, the movie, never reaches the heights of Monica Ali's wryly observant source novel, it's not the fault of cast members, who give subtle but uniformly appealing performances — especially Tannishtha Chatterjee, who conveys a regal sadness as Nazneen. Cinematographer Robbie Ryan carves out striking vistas from the uniformity of London tower blocks and tightly framed shots of Nazneen and her friends that suggest the claustrophobia of their cramped apartments. But Sarah Gavron's direction is unsteady and veers towards the obvious. When characters are tense, the film cuts to a shot of their fist clenching fabric; we know Nazneen longs for a sewing machine because she lingers in front of one in a shop window. The loudly scored scenes from Nazneen's childhood (playing games with her sister, twirling in fields) quickly become repetitive and telegraph Nazneen's sadness and unhappiness. While having sex with her husband, she literally lies back and thinks of Bangladesh.

The reason Brick Lane holds together, despite its faults, is the way it frames the conflict between new world and old, fate and self-determination. It's set up by the contrast between the arranged husband (Chanu) and the accidental interloper (Karim), and plays out in Nazneen's eventual choice. While Brick Lane is explicitly an immigrant story, its central theme is universal: you can't go home again — at least not to the place you remember.

Brick Lane opens in Toronto and Vancouver on July 4.

Gillian Grace is a writer based in Toronto.