For a sensitive, conscientious artist, the immigrant experience presents fertile ground to explore psychological alienation, character displacement, and dissonances in communication. For an Iranian/English film director, Babak Jalali, the material also introduces the opportunity to dig deep into absurdity and sly humor, thereby subverting the often overly earnest portrayals of immigrants and refugees. 

His new movie “Fremont,” opening at the IFC Center on Friday, looks at the life of a 20-something Afghan woman called Donya — played by newcomer Anaita Wali Zada — living at the titular city on the eastern end of San Francisco Bay. A former translator who worked with the United States Army in Afghanistan, she now labors in the packaging department of a small fortune cookie factory. After the company’s elderly fortune formulator keels over her computer keyboard and dies, the educated Donya is promoted, becoming the sole scribe of those propitious proverbs and koans. 

As a conversationalist, though, the character is often taciturn, aloof, and more than a little guarded about her former life back in her native land. Like most of her fellow Afghan refugees, Donya is also having trouble sleeping, and her psychiatrist suggests she may be suffering from PTSD — a claim she flat out denies despite all signs and symptoms supporting the diagnosis.

Donya’s sessions with this therapist, played perfectly by comedian and character actor Gregg Turkington, allow Mr. Jalali to really flex his absurdist muscles — or, put another way, to hit the funny bone obliquely and yet side-splittingly. Scene after scene of their talks fill in Donya’s background and her emotional state while also wallowing in exquisite awkwardness. 

One scene in particular has the good doctor attempt to draw her out of her emotional and social funk via his own fortune cookie-like scraps of paper, and it’s such a bone-headed, deadpan delight that I laughed out loud several times.

The use of the deadpan reaction shot and uncomfortable silence throughout is one way Mr. Jalali enlivens what could have been a grim, plotless story. To paraphrase Norma Desmond, the movie doesn’t need dialogue when it has Ms. Zada’s face. Yet the dialogue, when it’s more abundant in select scenes, can be beautifully poetic and evocative, such as when Donya’s friend Salim laments that the stars in the night sky over California seem to shift continuously while those over Afghanistan never seem to do so.

Another of Mr. Jalali’s energizing stylistic touches is his use of black-and-white cinematography. In nearly every shot, Mr. Jalali and his cinematographer, Laura Valladao, include stripes, window blinds, or other forms of striation that play off the countless shades of cool grayscale. 

The black-and-white imagery may also be a nod to Jim Jarmusch, whose work surely was among the inspirations for the film’s tone and offbeat characters. Another influence on Mr. Jalili may be Wes Anderson, particularly with his use of a boxy aspect ratio, meticulously balanced compositions, and unexpressive humor.

When Donya, on a whim, decides to place her phone number with the message “Desperate for a Dream” inside a fortune cookie, the semblance of a plot begins to enter into the picture. The factory owner finds out about the blatantly personal strip of communication and decides to address the infraction with Donya in the most indirect way possible — while also seeming to come on to her in a baffling, blundering moment involving a globe. Yet it is his wife who puts into play a plan that will send the young woman on a road trip to find her desired dream.

During this road trip, Donya meets Daniel, a mechanic played by Jeremy Allen White — of “The Bear” and “Shameless” fame. The actor only appears in about four scenes late in the film, but he makes the most of his screen time with Ms. Zada, who is a real find as Donya. 

Ultimately, these characters and others elevate the movie from a purely aesthetic exercise or flippant portrayal of trauma. From Donya’s lovelorn colleague to the wizened chef at her favorite Afghan restaurant, the film is populated with American and immigrant personalities who feel both faintly ridiculous and real, mirroring its mixture of the dreamy, droll, and desolate. As a melancholy mindset, “Fremont” is a worthy place to apply for asylum.