After the sudden collapse of Silicon Valley Bank last week, it’s perhaps worth noting that with the failure of tech-sector lenders and startups alike, an entire constellation of associated industries suffers as well. The pain trickles down throughout the community, impacting the likes of the Pakistani-American small business owner and his family at the center of Imran J. Khan’s 90s-set feature Mustache.

Although such a scenario might not appear to be entirely amusing, Khan finds the humor in hardship when his 13-year-old Muslim protagonist is forced to readjust his life after his parents make a difficult decision about his education. While not a typical teen comedy, Mustache approaches the genre from a perspective that’s gently humorous and refreshingly clever, even if it’s quite a bit tamer than mainstream fare.

Comfortably coasting through eighth grade at his private San Jose Muslim school, Ilyas (Atharva Verma) has a much bigger concern than the usual teenage preoccupations with peers, parents and parties: his wispy, dark mustache. It’s been growing ever since he was ten and although he hasn’t fully hit puberty yet, it’s getting increasingly problematic, prompting a sense of “profound self-loathing,” as he rather dramatically describes his level of discomfort. According to Islamic custom though, it’s forbidden for him to shave it off and his parents aren’t at all sympathetic about his situation, so he’s stuck.

Things go from uncomfortable to intolerable when school administrators unfairly accuse Ilyas of starting a fight with a classmate in response to relentless teasing about his facial hair. When the school withdraws his scholarship as punishment, his parents Asiya (Meesha Shafi) and Hameed (Rizwan Manji), unable to afford full tuition as his dad’s business teeters in the run-up to the dotcom crash, decide to send him to public high school instead, much to Ilyas’ dismay.

Worried that he’ll become a “bad Muslim” from exposure to his public school’s many corrupt influences, Ilyas develops a plan to force his parents to reverse their decision by indulging in mildly reprehensible behavior with the guidance of his new best friend Arun (Krishna Manivannan). When his tentative forays into distinctly non-halal fast food and rap music fail to sufficiently scandalize his folks, Ilyas hits on the idea of faking a relationship with cute classmate Liz Park (Melody Cao), fully convinced that they won’t overlook a forbidden girlfriend.

Recognizing his limitations, he recruits an actual girl to advise him on strategy: whipsmart Yasmeen (Ayana Manji) from his Muslim school, who only agrees because she secretly harbors a crush. In an effort to further his plan, Ilyas hesitantly joins the high school acting class taught by drama teacher Miss Martin (Alicia Silverstone) so he can keep closer tabs on Liz. Impressed by his performances in class, she soon recruits him to hang out with the other theater kids, and before long Ilyas realizes he’s fallen for his own ruse: Now he really does wish Liz could be his girlfriend, but he has no idea how to proceed.

Khan provides a clear set of complications for Ilyas to navigate, including a complex array of religious requirements and prohibitions that generate much of the film’s humor. However, as his decisions begin to resemble the hypocrisy of the adults who are rapidly losing his respect, Ilyas is faced with a decision to either imitate their behavior or reject it.

Verma fully inhabits Ilyas’ almost unrelenting anxiety, exemplified by twitchy body language and a shifting gaze in the presence of authority figures and members of the opposite sex. As his parents, Shafi and Manji credibly provide the considered guidance that a wayward teen sometimes requires, while Silverstone fulfills a mostly functional role that could have been considerably expanded.

A religion-themed comedy can be a tricky proposition, even if the tone is predominantly respectful, but Khan strikes a satisfying balance between satire and deference that’s enjoyable without excessively pushing boundaries. And that could prove an effective template for other filmmakers seeking to explore similarly complex cultural settings with sensitivity and humor.