Meeko Gattuso amd Nana Mensah in Queen of Glory (Film Movement)

The title of Thomas Wolfe’s 1940 novel, You Can’t Go Home Again, is appealing to anyone who feels like they never fit in; it’s almost like an excuse that says, “Don’t worry, you don’t need to go back to that place where you felt so ill at ease.” But as Nana Mensah’s winning and heartfelt Queen of Glory points out, not only can you go home again, part of you never left.

The child of Ghanaian immigrants, Sarah Obeng (Mensah) has left her home in the Little Ghana neighborhood of the Bronx behind to pursue a promising career in molecular neuro-oncology. However, just as she has decided to abandon her PhD studies at Columbia University to follow her married boyfriend to his new job in Ohio, her mother’s sudden death upends her plans. She now has to organize her mother’s funeral according to Ghanaian traditions, and she’s also left with the bequest of the family home and her mother’s Christian bookstore. At first, Sarah wants to just get through everything as fast as possible so she can leave that part of her life behind. Yet the more time she spends reacquainting herself with the neighborhood and its culture, and learning about the importance of her mother’s shop to the community, the harder it becomes to walk away.

Mensah’s eye for detail makes each location seem real, from the cramped grad students’ office at Columbia to the busy streets below the elevated train in the Bronx. The way people speak to each other and react feels lived in and authentic. As an actor, Mensah easily carries the film. Even when she isn’t speaking, her expressive eyes and body tell us everything we need to know to understand what Sarah is going through. The standout supporting actor is Meeko Gattuso as Pitt, the ex-con bookstore employee who reveals to Sarah why the bookstore matters. He has an effortless presence and kindness about him that belie his array of menacing face tattoos. Anya Migdal also shines as the firm but harried matriarch of the Russian family next door, who semi-adopts Sarah into her chaotic but loving home. Indie director Adam Leon is appropriately feckless as Sarah’s married boyfriend. (Really, Sarah? You’re getting a PhD in molecular neuro-oncology and you fell for this guy’s “I’m going to leave my wife, I promise”?)

Many onscreen immigrant stories are about newly arrived immigrants finding their way in their new home, with them often settling in by the end. Queen of Glory is somewhat the reverse of that. Sarah looks like the ideal immigrant success story, someone who used her brains and talent to become a high achiever in a demanding field. So, when she first goes back home to the Bronx to sort out the details following her mother’s death, it’s uncomfortable; she knows the place but also feels like an outsider. When her father arrives from Ghana, where he has lived for most of Sarah’s life, it’s clear she has little connection to him. She also has little interest in or affinity for the bookstore. But when her plans to run from it all fall apart, she finds that maybe she doesn’t want to run. As Sarah begins to rebuild her bonds to her family and culture, she sees how inescapable and important these relationships are. Yes, you are always home; you never fully leave.