"With very modest means, but with nerve, ingenuity and an eye to make up for modesty, Axel Corti presents us with a riveting picture of New York in 1940 and 1941, as seen through the experience of a boatload of Jewish refugees from Austria. Picking up on the situation of God Doesn't Believe in Us Anymore (see March 28), we observe a handful of lives, centering on Freddy, a young man who dreams of being a cowboy in New Mexico. But the effort to survive is enormous, and even those who succeed are aware that 'Here we are cheaters, down to our very souls.' Corti does not sentimentalize the immigrant's life, or credit the sinister triumph of such as the Corleones. These are ordinary, decent people, battling with a new language and memories that will not go away. The sense of human detail is dependent on the way in which Corti's camera insists on re-examining every scene, every doubt and every compromise. And at the end, when the old writer who ran a delicatessen dies, his business keeps going because there are other Austrians ready to adapt, like actors available for any roles." David Thomson