The film: Having forged a career mostly in making commercials and music videos, Nadine Labaki is hardly a prime candidate from which one expects a subtle, engaging drama about frustrating relationships and repressed emotions. It's all the more a pleasant surprise, therefore, that the 34-year-old has delivered exactly that with Caramel.

Revolving around five women who work in or frequent a beauty salon in Beirut, her feature film debut offers a measured treatise about the predicaments Lebanese women face, from universal themes (such as being stuck in an illicit affair) to more local issues, such as how long-held traditions about sexuality present obstacles for female emancipation.

The film's title refers to the paste commonly used in Beirut's salons to remove their clients' excessive hair. A mixture conjured from sugar and lemon juice, the caramel sweet-and-sour taste is used to symbolise the amorous predilections on show: salon owner Layale (played by Labaki, right) is mired in a doomed affair with a married man; her associate Nisrine (Yasmine al Masri) is cast asunder by fears of being found out by her fiance that she's not a virgin; their young tomboyish worker Rima (Joanna Moukarzel), meanwhile, is torn by her same-sex affections towards a client.

Their modelling friend Jamale (Gisele Aouad) is trying desperately to face up to the arrival of menopause, while lone spinster Rose (Sihame Haddad) is torn between accepting the affections of a suitor and the needs of her demented elder sister, for whom she has suppressed all her romantic hopes for most of her life.

Never once opting for visual gimmickry, cheap sentimentality or hackneyed melodrama, Labaki has conjured a film oozing hearty humour, genuine emotions and empathy for her characters.

By peppering the individual tales with nods towards the social conventions the protagonists are bound by - whether it be the orthodox views on chastity, same-sex love and family responsibilities, or the thoroughly western obsession with photogenic youth - Caramel also offers social commentary of a country long undermined by religious schisms from within.

That it's all done in a subtle manner showcases Labaki's talents: unlike quite a few of recent Lebanese films - the very political Under the Bombs and Je Veux Voir - Caramel only hints at the country's decades-long civil war through damaged streets and frequent blackouts. The film was made in 2006 during a time of relative calm in Lebanon - a week after shooting wrapped, Israel began its months-long bombardment of Beirut in its war with the Hezbollah.

The extras: With the interesting social context which drives the film and a cast of mostly non-professional actors - Moukarzel, for example, is the manager of a electrical appliances company and Aouad a personal assistant in business - Caramel is ripe for many a bonus featurette. It's in this aspect that this DVD comes short just for once: the only extra here is a banal six-minute interview with Labaki.

The verdict: A moving film that reveals genuine emotions and the tribulations of women in their struggle for emotional well-being and emancipation.