If Nicole Kidman can turn Academy heads with a prosthetic nose and Charleze Theron with an uglification make-over, then Felicity Huffman should be among this year's nominees for Best Actress. In fact, she should score the gold for her mesmerizing deconstruction of a transgendered man becoming a woman. While physically transforming her appearance, voice, and posture present tremendous challenges, Huffman's biggest achievement comes from maintaining her character's dignity and finding the necessary emotional tone that prevents Transamerica from sinking into melodramatic comic caricature.

It's a story we've seen before—an individual pursing a dream in spite of family dysfunction and finding emotional connections during a life changing road trip. But the circumstances are unique, and Huffman successfully steers what could have devolved into situational comedy into a memorable character study that illuminates transgender issues without preaching. You no longer need to hang out in the East Village to get to “know” a transgendered person; Duncan Tucker's independent film breaks the ice, and it's due for more exposure after award winning screenings at the Tribecca and Berlin Festivals and with two Golden Globe nominations so far.

As with many independent features, Tucker borrowed from friends and relatives and maxed out his credit cards to pursue his labor of love. The idea for the film was sparked through a transgendered acquaintance, and the filmmaker interviewed a number of transgendered women to research the character. That is when he decided that only an actress would be appropriate for the role since this reflects where Bree is heading. Fortunately, he attracted Huffman to the role before she began filming Desperate Housewives; otherwise, she might have been too difficult to schedule and her agent might have wanted an unaffordable contract. Huffman's television fame has ironically provided additional mainstream promotion for the film.

Just a week before her final operation, Bree (born Stanley) Osbourn discovers that she has fathered a son named Toby (Kevin Zegers), now a homeless 17 year old delinquent in custody somewhere in Manhattan. Although Bree has consistently expressed disgust for her male genitalia (firmly believing that it was a birth defect), her therapist (Elizabeth Peña) wants to make sure that there are no possible doubts about her femininity and demands that she resolve all issues with Toby before proceeding with the operation.

Thus, the mis-matched pair begin to cross America under considerable strain. Trying to fulfill parental duties without revealing her paternity, we know that Bree will have to level with Toby at some point. But the secret does supply a number of humorous moments throughout the narrative, and one discomforting poignant encounter with a good hearted Navajo man (Graham Greene) who is attracted by Bree's manner and subtly teaches Toby that stereotypical ideas don't tell the whole story. Thinking it strange that an Indian would wear a cowboy hat, Greene points out that it keeps the sun out of his eyes and face a lot better than a headband. He soon after presents the hat to the teen, a visual reminder of a vital life lesson.

Family dysfunction reaches its high point at Bree's parents' home in Phoenix where her disapproving mother (Fionnula Flanagan) and father (Burt Young) struggle with their son Stanley's sexual transformation ("Your mother and I both love you. But we don't respect you!"). Balancing that comic exchange is another that reaches a deeper level, and is a reasonable concern as her mother expresses: Look at your life. You've never been able to stick to a decision. I mean, 10 years of college and not a single degree. How do you know you won't change your mind about this, too?

But Bree remains determined to go through with the operation. When she reveals that the young teen boy lounging in the yard is her son, both parents humorously transform themselves instantly—into doting grandparents. Toby wonders why the sudden change and we in turn wonder how this will all pan out when he discovers the reason. That part feels too contrived for the rest of the screenplay but can easily be forgiven due to the film's overall content and Huffman's strong performance.

The subject matter has its heart in the right place and the project draws notable actors for supporting roles—Peña (Lone Star), Greene (Dances with Wolves), Fionnula Flanagan (James Joyce's Women and numerous other productions), and Burt Young (Rocky). In his role as executive producer Huffman's husband William H. Macy certainly upgraded the production quality and available acting talent, but the film rests squarely with Huffman. The physical requirements are extreme, considering that she's in virtually every frame of the 103 minute film. She learned throat techniques to keep her voice in a lower register and is so convincing that I would have thought her to be a man, had I not seen her previously in her regular persona. (Indeed, Huffman indicated that it took her three weeks to get her regular voice back, so you may find her a bit “masculine” in her first few episodes of Desperate Housewives)

Even though the physicality of the role first grabs attention, it's Huffman's attention to her character's emotions that keeps it. Without Huffman's sincerity, Transamerica would quickly revert to a political lecture about tolerance as it follows its traditional road movie path, forever dating the first project of the non-Miramax Weinstein brothers as an issue film. Although viewers are likely to emerge with altered views about transgendered people, mostly they'll recall the good natured humor and see Huffman's character as a real human—someone going through very real struggles and coping with the same kind of family dysfunctions as most of us.