“Obviously, doctor, you’ve never been a 13 year old girl.” - Cecilia, The Virgin Suicides

Towelhead (also known as Nothing is Private), the latest film from writer/director Alan Ball, explores the burgeoning sexuality of Jasira, a 13 year old girl played to delicate perfection by newcomer Summer Bishil.

After living with her American mother (Maria Bello) in Syracuse for many years, Jasira is sent to live with her Lebanese father, Rifat (Peter Macdissi), an engineer for NASA in Houston. Jasira’s body is developing faster than other girls her age; and, accordingly, is drawing some questionable attention from boys and men alike. After being teased at a local swimming pool for her pubic hair, her mother’s boyfriend offers to shave her. When her mother finds out, Jasira is blamed and sent away.

Life with her father isn’t much better. She soon gets her first unwelcome and unannounced visit from Aunt Flo, and a horrific trip to the grocery store with her father follows, in which she’s told she can’t wear tampons because they are for married women.

And so begins the first in many awkward moments in Jasira’s life. She can’t wear tampons because her father is a vagina dictator, the kids at school tease her about her heritage (most of them think she’s Mexican), and her period becomes public knowledge. Jasira starts to babysit for her neighbors, Travis and Evelyn Vuoso (Aaron Eckhart and Carrie Preston). Their son introduces her to some nudie mags one afternoon, and Jasira has her first unintended orgasm. Soon she catches the eye of Travis, and Jasira’s confused hormones are sent down the wrong fork in the road.

Jasira is consistently surrounded by males who treat her poorly, and, sadly, she just doesn’t know better. Her mother chose a man over her, and left without a mother figure, Jasira is a minnow in a pool of sharks.

Travis is a white army reservist, but Ball doesn’t paint him as the typical dominant racist hick by any means. He is drawn to Jasira sexually, but I wouldn’t call him a pedophile, necessarily. He sees the adult bursting from Jasira, and that’s what he’s attracted to. This enigma of a young girl that he shouldn’t touch. Travis’s son hurls racial slurs at Jasira on a daily basis, again, something she doesn’t find offensive because she doesn’t know better. Her boyfriend, a black boy named Thomas, is your average teen boy - one thing on his mind at all times, but at least she can relate to the rampant hormones and newborn sexual feelings. Her father, Rifat, is perhaps the most brilliantly crafted character in the bunch: always trying to be more “American”, always trying to show everyone up and impress. He leaves his daughter alone most nights to go to his Greek girlfriend’s house, ignoring what is easily the most important time in her young life. Rifat is stuck-up, snarky, and laughable in his behavior at times; however, Rifat can be cruel, and there are points in this film where my chest became tight just watching his actions toward his daughter.

The film feels very organic and comes from an honest place; so much so, that i felt scared for and with Jasira when her father lashed out at her, or when Travis touched her.

All is not dire for Jasira in this Houston suburb. Melina (Toni Collette) and her husband Gil (Matt Letscher) are a liberal couple with a house perfectly sandwiched between those of Travis and Rifat. They oppose the war, they’re cultured and well-read, Melina always has feminine alternative tunes kicking in the background, and Gil cooks. Melina recognizes what is happening to Jasira, and unlike the men in her life, wants to help her, not stifle or take advantage of her. It’s such a polar opposite to Jasira’s life - Melina and Gil are equals, both outspoken individuals, neither repressing the other; whereas every other male Jasira knows is hell bent on being above her, dominating her in some way. In Melina and Gil’s home, Melina is empowered, and thus becomes the perfect ally for Jasira.

Alan Ball has translated Alicia Erian’s novel into a delicate and intricate world, filled with complex characters and uncomfortable moments, moments that other filmmakers rarely show us. These are moments that people are afraid to talk about, moments that are taboo for us to see. We need to see them. This world, for young girls, exists. Girls are rampantly sexualized in this culture. Instead of teaching them the way, we exploit them and exacerbate the conflict raging inside their little bodies.

The last scene in Towelhead is breathtaking and optimistic. It gives you feelings of hope, calm, and peace. Don’t worry, there are no magical happy endings here, but this last moment is a shining light at the end of the tunnel, for sure.

Overall, Towelhead is well worth the watch.