Desiree Akhavan in Appropriate Behavior (Gravitas Ventures)

Films, TV shows, novels, even webcomics about urban 20somethings haltingly trying to make it are practically a genre unto themselves. With Appropriate Behavior, Desiree Akhavan, the film’s writer, director, and star, not only adds to the ever growing titles in this vein but she’s made her mark as an artist to watch out for as well.

Shirin (Akhavan) is a self-involved bisexual Iranian American in the heart of hipster Brooklyn. Partly a failure to launch story—Shirin apartment hops and, despite a journalism degree, finds herself teaching introductory film to preschoolers—the plot primarily deals with Shirin’s failed relationship with Maxine (Rebecca Henderson), flashing back to happier times and then forward again to the bleaker present. Shirin’s ill-conceived plan? To win back Maxine, or at least make her jealous enough to see what she’s missing, through cringe-inducing dating and sexual encounters.

Reminiscent of the quintessential breakup film, Woody Allen’s Annie Hall—there’s even a bookstore scene in which Maxine attempts to broaden the airheaded Shirin’s preferences with a suggested reading list, which calls back the “Horrible and the Miserable” scene—Appropriate Behavior has the same seemingly messy structure. However, as with Annie Hall, there’s a method to the madness, and Akhavan has a gift for juxtaposing scenes for maximum impact, such as an awkward hookup between Shirin and a new guy, followed by a truly intimate scene between Shirin and Maxine, who pause their lovemaking to smoke marijuana.

And like Allen, Akhavan conveys genuine warmth for a pair of very flawed, at times unlikable characters. Early impressions of the couple show Shirin as completely lacking self-awareness and Maxine as brusque, almost cold, yet Akhavan pulls the curtain back on the relationship, showing its highs and lows. Folded in, even among the joyful moments, are hints of the aspects of Shirin’s personality that make the breakup inevitable—think Maxine agreeing to go downstairs to pay for their marijuana while Shirin stays in bed or the butch, decidedly out Maxine lecturing closeted (to her parents) Shirin on why the word dyke is offensive.

Akhavan’s dialogue is hilarious and her ability to skewer hipster culture spot-on, such as a dueling significant others scene where the two women meet at a party, both with dates: Shirin with a sullen bearded tattooed boyfriend, Maxine with an ethereal blonde named Tibet. However, Akhavan doesn’t lean too heavily on the humor, never allowing Shirin to become mere caricature. She’s a nuanced character, wrestling with her sexuality and her family’s expectations. She’s unwilling to tell her parents about her bisexuality, allowing them to believe that Maxine was just a roommate—a decision painful for both women.

Although shot on a quick 19-day schedule, the film’s visually effective. Scenes of loft parties, subway trips, and subpar apartments lend it an authentic look, just right for Shirin, who clearly doesn’t quite know how to get what she wants—if she even knows what it is. Like Girls creator Lena Dunham, Akhavan is honest to a fault when it comes to portraying herself in a less than ideal light, a decision that extends to graphic but often awkward sexual scenes. This is a forthright, warts and all depiction, free of anything resembling glamour.

It would have been easy for Akhavan to let Appropriate Behavior devolve into a Not Another Twentysomething Movie, but this film stands out. There’s real emotion here, and audiences won’t just mock or deride Shirin; they’ll—perhaps reluctantly—come to root for her, far more than Shirin’s TV counterpart, Girls protagonist Hannah. This is an impressive, deeply personal debut, and viewers will be eager to see more from this talented young artist.