Eran Kolirin's The Band's Visit is the sort of truimph that doesn't declare itself in manipulative throws of either the heartbreaking or inspirational. As it studies the intersection of Israeli and Egyptian cultures, Kolirin's debut feature traces lines of humor and poignance without a beat of emotional falter. It's the type of film to see, see again and yet again, noting with each iteration a truth about man's beauty, loneliness and communion.

When an Israeli greeting committee fails to meet the inbound flight of the Alexandria Ceremonial Police Orchestra, scheduled to play at the opening of a Muslim cultural center the next day, straight-laced and stern band leader Tawfiq (Sasson Gabai) jetties his seven-man crew on an unintentional expedition into the middle of nowhere. Stranded, without another bus on its way, in the desolate Bet Hatikva, Tawfiq, all the time butting heads with the passionate and charming Haled (Saleh Bakri), is forced to bond with a few disenchanted but dubiously welcoming Israelis. Shopkeeper Dina (Ronit Elkabetz), an alluring and bold bullshit-not powerhouse, settles the hesitant musicians in for the night, the exercise of opposites Tawfiq and Haled staying at her apartment.

As the night passes, the strangeness of communication and the isolation of being descend, allowing equally for moments of silence and awkward humor. While Dina and Tewiq connect over loss and abandonment, their journeys so individual that they, like parallel lines, eventually intersect, their hands conducting the same invisible orchestra, Haled tags along with the romantically inept Papi (Shlomi Avraham), and in an absurd and pitch-perfect scene of courting, connects with the flakey and endearing Israeli social jester. Band second-in-command Simon (Khalifa Natour), meanwhile, meets in understanding the ever-compliant, proud father Itzik (Rubi Moskovitz).

From Elkabetz's longing sassiness to Natour's meditative reflection, the cast hits chord after chord of stirring moment, their emotions given in a balance of generosity and restraint that prevents any sentimentality from hacking away at the film's implicit plea for peace. Kolirin, likewise, molds his material with the anthropological precision of patience, working with editor Arik Leibovitch to allow moments to play out and cut only when the snapshot of the human condition has fully developed. Mirroring this, cinematographer Shai Goldman mix and matches his palette of wides and intimate close-ups to shed light on the inherent melancholy of disconnection. It's as if with every frame Goldman captures such tangible loneliness that the viewer could only feel as much alone. Serving both functions as pure entertainment and purer art, The Band's Visit is a joyous masterpiece that begs some reconciliation, if only that act occurs within self, in one brief moment, at the back of a theater, as the credits roll.

For more information on the film visit www.thebandsvisit.com.