Beyond using progressive filming techniques and casting, Tangerine is expressive and warm

Fresh off a 28-day prison stint following a drug-related misunderstanding, Sin-Dee Rella (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) is ready to reconnect with her lover and occasional pimp, Chester, and try to lead a normal life. But when her best friend Alexandra (Mya Taylor) lets it slip that Chester has been seeing another woman, Sin-Dee reevaluates things and decides on a plan of confrontation, then goes full Terminator I on an unsuspecting Los Angeles. Feeling responsible but eager to avoid any chaos or foolishness, Alexandra tags along for damage control and to try to drum up some attendance for her cabaret act later that evening.

Much of the advance talk about Tangerine focuses on the facts that it was photographed with iPhone 5s and features trans lead characters portrayed by trans actresses — both of those are certainly interesting items. But what makes this a notable work is that, like director Sean Baker's previous films, it gets into the stringent emotional mechanics of making a living and keeping your sanity when you're toward the bottom rungs of the socioeconomic ladder. There's an empathy in Baker's work that can't be faked, and it's that aspect of the film that you remember after viewing it.

That's not meant to diminish in any way what a step forward in transgender representation this film is. But representation too often feels like an item on a checklist, and Sin-Dee and Alexandra are no one's checklist — they are resourceful women who do what they have to do to get by. It's annoying that we're served up more trans women of color as sex workers, but these women aren't victims of the week on cop/profiler shows, nor are they sight gags in some well-off white boy's sexual misadventures. More so, their clients are never caricatures either. If you're going to see Tangerine, you're already expressing a willingness to experience perspectives not normally offered in mainstream media, but it's a testament to Baker (and co-writer Chris Bergoch) that everyone we encounter is allowed more complexity than first looks would seemingly promise, and also that sexuality is a bit more mercurial than most films are willing to address. But Baker and Bergoch were also part of the creation of the off-kilter television series Greg the Bunny, so they've been working at expanding horizons for a while now.

A moment, then, to ponder James Ransone, as fearless an actor as there is in modern cinema. He made his debut as the autoerotic asphyxiator/murderer in Harmony Korine and Larry Clark's Ken Park, then popped up on The Wire, as Dingy Dave in John Waters' A Dirty Shame, and was charming enough to be the one person besides the ancient pagan murdergod to return for the sequel in the Sinister series. He can handle just about anything, and as Chester, the mysterious pimp and heartbreaker who serves as the engine for the film's picaresque treasure hunt of a narrative, he has to walk a very fine line between endearing, rakish, cruel and sweet to keep the rest of the cast in balance.

Rodriguez is an atomic bomb of energy and determination, and she keeps you on Sin-Dee's side despite being far too cavalier about using violence toward women. Taylor's Alexandra has an exquisite, deadpan sense of humor that keeps the film from skittering off the rails. And there's never been a film made for this restrictive a budget using digital sources that has had such an exceptional color palette. Tempers get hot in this film, but the color scheme, like the characters' hearts, is expressive and warm.

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