When the Academy decided to increase the number of Best Picture nominees from five to ten, there was a lot of justifiable skepticism.  Are there really more first-rate movies today than there were in 1959, 1962, or 1981, three banner years that had to make do with five nominees?  Hollywood insiders clearly wanted to see more blockbusters like Inception andToy Story 3 on the list in order to boost ratings for the Oscar telecast, but it’s been more heartening to see the inclusion of a couple of small, independent movies that might not have made a list of just five nominees.  A Serious Man and Winter’s Bone clearly benefited from the new rule, and maybe Chris Weitz’s A Better Life will reap the reward in 2011.  This small character drama without any star power is one of the most satisfying and moving films of recent years.

The story echoes that of an Oscar-winning foreign film from 1949: Vittorio De Sica’sBicycle Thief.  That movie focused on a poor family in postwar Italy.  At the start they have to sell off precious assets to get the father’s bicycle out of hock.  He needs the bicycle for a promising new job, but when the bicycle is stolen, his hopes are dashed; he and his young son travel all over Rome to find the thief and salvage his livelihood.  In A Better Life, written by Eric Eason from a story created by Roger L. Simon, a Mexican gardener and single father living in Los Angeles has an opportunity to buy a truck that will help him to provide for his teenage son.  But when the truck is stolen, he and his son embark on a desperate journey to get it back.  The stakes are even higher here than in De Sica’s movie because the father is in danger of being deported if he is stopped by the police while pursuing his increasingly dangerous mission.

The highest compliment I can pay Weitz’s movie is to say that it warrants comparison to De Sica’s classic film.  The acting and direction honor the spirit of Italian neorealism.  Demian Bichir, a major star in his native Mexico, gives a stunning performance as Carlos, a beleaguered man struggling to keep his fragile world from collapsing.  The opening scenes establish the desperate tenor of Carlos’s existence.  He sleeps on the couch in their tiny house so that his 14-year-old son, Luis (newcomer Jose Julian), can have his own bedroom.  Every day Carlos leaves at drawn to travel from east Los Angeles to the posh western suburbs; he works for a friend who pays him a meager salary as his gardening assistant.  Luis spends little time with his father, whom he regards with indifference bordering on contempt, and the boy is becoming more entranced by the gang life of his neighborhood.  Carlos knows that he needs to improve his status if he hopes to wean his son away from the menacing influences around him.  When he buys his employer’s truck, he wins Luis’s respect, and they bond even more deeply after the truck is stolen; father and son have to use their ingenuity as well as a bit of intimidation to retrieve the vehicle.

The film is beautifully made by Weitz, a director whose diverse credits includeAmerican Pie, About a Boy, and Twilight New Moon.  This is by far his most personal film, since Weitz’s grandmother, actress Lupita Tovar, is Mexican, and his wife is also Hispanic.  Spanish cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe vividly renders parts of Los Angeles that we rarely see on film.  All of the actors shine.  Bichir conveys the integrity of this uneducated man without overselling his nobility.  He works in an eloquent, understated style; much of Carlos’s inner turmoil is conveyed in his silent reactions to the people he encounters.  Young Julian, making his film debut, also gives a remarkably natural performance that blends bravado with childlike confusion.  The supporting cast members contribute to the sense of authenticity.

While the film doesn’t attempt to make any grand statements, it does take on added urgency at a time when harsh, oppressive anti-immigrant laws are being passed all over the country.  A Better Life puts a human face on a contentious issue.  While the film doesn’t gloss over the more sinister elements in the Mexican-American community, it convinces us of the fundamental decency of many of the immigrants unfairly stereotyped by fear-mongers.  Carlos has an unerring sense of right and wrong as well as an unselfish devotion to his family.  Yet family is the primary victim of our country’s immigration imbroglio.  In the end Carlos and Luis are separated because of these misguided laws.  The movie’s final scenes tear at our emotions without falling into sentimentality.  Because we get caught up in one family’s torment, we come to a deeper understanding of the immigrant experience in this country.  The dramas played out in A Better Life are not so different from those that have marked the experiences of many other ethnic groups throughout our country’s history.  This film shines a powerful, humanistic light on the most elemental American story—every immigrant’s yearning to find a place called home.