by SARAH ROWLAND

Understandably, those of you blessed with satellite feed and/or the willpower to abstain from network television have a hard time buying that anyone associated with Desperate Housewives could possibly possess enough artistic merit to turn in one of the best female performances since Hilary Swank in Boys Don’t Cry. But for those of us who have been known to stumble down Wisteria Lane on the occasional Sunday night (when there’s nothing else to watch, I swear), it’s no big shocker that Felicity Huffman has earned several critical nods—including a Golden Globe nomination and plenty of Oscar buzz—for her portrayal of a pre-operative male-to-female transsexual in TransAmerica.

The low-key indie gem features Huffman as Stanley “Bree” Osbourne, a loner chick with an unwanted dick. After years of saving up, Bree can finally afford to buy a man-made hole—all she needs is her shrink’s consent. But in order to get the green light for her sex change, Bree needs to deal with some of her past issues, most notably the estranged son she fathered while in college. So she goes through the medically mandatory motions of leaving L.A. for New York in search of her illegit Toby (played by Canadian cutie and future teen idol Kevin Zegers), with the sole purpose of reporting back to the psych board that her family affairs are taken care of.

Of course, she doesn’t get off that easy. Soon after she bails her delinquent offspring out of jail, she realizes that he’s a hustler on the cusp of becoming a full-blown junkie. Disguised as a church volunteer and riddled with guilt, Bree offers to drive the aspiring porn star to L.A. Since Toby has no idea the deep-voiced, oddly proportioned woman is his father, he happily accepts her charitable nature. And so begins the cross-country road trip between father and son.

Writer/director Duncan Tucker’s tenderly written script will ring true for every bastard child who’s spent most of their life fantasizing about their absent parent—especially the scenes in which Toby’s description of his biological father becomes more and more embellished with every detail he divulges to Bree, or when he tries to fill the void with misguided, not to mention poorly timed sexual advances. It’s moments like those where Zegers does more than just supply a pretty face to counteract Huffman’s monstrous makeover. In fact, the blue-eyed Canuck does a pretty respectable job of pulling off the role of a sexually damaged speed freak.

But what makes this indie heartbreaker so irresistible is the way Tucker leaves room for so much unexpected dry wit.

This is where Huffman comes in. Without betraying the tender tone of the film, the comedic timing of her one-liners is impeccable. Always dry, she never veers into camp territory. She also nails the posturing of someone who doesn’t feel comfortable in her own skin. In a word, her performance is flawless.

And if that’s not enough to convince all the doubters who can’t believe that a Desperate Housewife could pull off a role of this magnitude, did I mention that Huffman’s husband William H. Macy produced it? Last time I checked, he still carried some cool clout.

TransAmerica opens Friday Jan. 13

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