The presence of the slasher retread Black Christmas in local theaters is the only thing that stands in the way of Freedom Writers winning the Most Clichéd Film of the Year Award. The fact that it belongs to a less wretched genre doesn’t make it terribly more interesting, unless you’ve made it through your life without ever seeing a movie about a dedicated white liberal teacher reaching out to underprivileged students. In this case, the DWLT is Erin Gruwell (Hilary Swank, proof that two Oscars is no guarantee of good parts), whose first assignment in the mid 1990s takes her to the Long Beach section of Los Angeles. Racial tensions are at a peak shortly after the LA riots, and while Long Beach isn’t exactly the inner city, Wilson High has a policy of voluntary integration. Her students, generally classified as “unteachable,” are the worst of the worst, gang members with no more ambition than to make it through the day alive. (It’s hard to even describe the story without sinking into clichés.) Desperate for a way to reach them, she hits pay dirt by making them read The Diary of Anne Frank and then encouraging them to start their own diaries. The fact that Freedom Writers is based on a true story doesn’t make it any less familiar, not in the wake of Dangerous Minds, Coach Carter, Stand and Deliver, Lean on Me, ad infinitum. Swank plays the part with so much unalloyed spunk that she seeks to be auditioning for a big-screen adaptation of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, while her young charges are played by an assortment of model-fresh twentysomethings who resemble gang members about as much as I resemble Jessica Simpson. Freedom Writers may seem original to teens too young to have encountered the material before, but then, so does heavy metal.

The phrase “independent film” isn’t always synonymous with slacker attitude, ornate profanity and ironic violence. Some films are made independently for precisely the opposite reason, because they don’t have enough sex and violence to make them what Hollywood considers “marketable.” Nonetheless, movies like King of the Corner, Nosey Parker and My Big Fat Greek Wedding have shown that an audience remains for somewhat gentler fare. The heartfelt feature Sweet Land should appeal to that same audience. Set primarily in a Minnesota farming community circa 1920, it is the story of Inge (Elizabeth Reaser), a young mail-order bride who arrives at the bus station with a few pieces of luggage and a gramophone. (Any evocation of Holly Hunter’s arrival in New Zealand with an upright grand in The Piano is probably unintentional.) Her intended husband, the taciturn Olaf (Tim Guinee) and his more loquacious friend Frandsen (Alan Cummings, who also co-produced the film) initially assume that she is, like everyone else in the community, a Norwegian. But when they learn that she is actually German, an immediate chill descends. It’s only two years since the end of World War I, after all, and all that negative propaganda is still filling their minds. How Inge wins herself a place in the heart of the community, not to mention Olaf, accounts for the remainder of the story. If the tale is less than suspenseful (the film is framed as a flashback by the grandson as he wonders whether to sell the farm), it is no less engaging for it. Adapting a short story by Will Weaver, first-time director Ali Selim (a veteran of the commercial world) draws his characters as reticent but reasonable people who recognize that cooperation is necessary for survival in such a harsh environment. Selim draws uniformly terrific performances from a top-flight cast (including John Heard, Ned Beatty, Lois Smith and Alex Kingston), as well as making the most of the landscapes of Minnesota where the story was filmed. (Sometimes you just can’t beat 35-millimeter film.) Sweet Land will only be playing from Friday through Tuesday (at the Emerging Cinema screen at the Market Arcade) so don’t wait for word of mouth to catch up to you.