What a wonderful, melancholy film Until the Birds Return is, and what a beautiful job director/co-writer Karim Moussaoui achieves in portraying the middle class in a country coming out of a volatile time.

His triptych of stories focus on a small group of people tangentially involved with each other in Algeria. The overarching character trait in each narrative is inaction in the face of circumstances forced upon the protagonists, for which they put up little resistance. In all three stories, there is a certain sadness and restlessness in everyone.

In the first story line, a man in his late 60s, Mourad (Mohamed Djouhri), witnesses a beating, which he does not report to police. In the middle (and best) story, a young man, Djalil (Mehdi Ramdani), drives a young woman, Aïcha (Hania Amar), to her wedding at the request of her father. Unbeknownst to her family, they had a romantic relationship not too long in the past. In the final tale, Dhaman (Hassan Kachach), an ambitious neurologist, reluctantly visits a woman who has accused him of a shameful act during the civil war.

Moussaoui never rushes the stories. He lets them breathe, appreciating the silence that exists in the interactions. He is most successful at this in the longing and resentful stares between Djalil and Aïcha, allowing the camera to linger on their faces. There is a fantastic sequence when they have to stay in a hotel (in separate rooms, of course), forcing them to hash out their history. They wander into the lounge, and there is a band. Aïcha wants to dance with Djalil. He declines. She decides to dance anyway. No one else is there but them and the band, and as Aïcha takes to the dance floor, she fully lets herself go in a way that she may never be able to do again, while Djalil sits at the table watching, nursing a drink. You can see all his emotions flash before a seemingly impassive face: lust, sadness, anger, frustration. Mehdi Ramdani, reminiscent of a younger, handsomer Steve Buscemi, allows his eyes to convey the whole gamut.

Again and again, Moussaoui is content to observe quietly, never leaning too hard on the gas pedal. All the linchpin events of these stories, in lesser hands, would lend themselves quite easily to melodrama. Here, they are just circumstances in these people’s lives.

The first two stories make no mention of the civil war that wracked Algeria between 1991 and 2002, but the third revolves around a specific event during that time. It’s also where the main character manages to make a decision that moves his life forward, rather than having him float on jetsam, letting the waves bring him where they may. The final moments, which could be the beginning of another story, is a perfect ending to a film that understands that observing an individual undertaking mundane actions and making mundane decisions is fascinating in its own right.