British-Iraqi drag artist and film-maker Amrou Al-Kadhi makes a strong feature debut with this coming-of-age dramedy of queer identity, which is heartfelt if slightly glib. It is well acted and fervent in its sympathy for the protagonist, though finally dismissive about the flawed person with whom that protagonist falls painfully in love. But perhaps survival and self-affirmation means dismissing those who are holding you back.

Bilal Hasna plays drag artist Layla, formerly (dead)named Latif, whose strict Muslim family is unaware of this vocation, although Layla’s affectionate and unjudging sister Fatima (Sarah Agha) picks up on something in the way that Layla dances at her wedding party. Layla’s lowest moment comes during a special daytime show with other queer performers at a corporation which wants to Pridewash its brand. The show ends in chaotic catastrophe, but Layla locks eyes with suit-wearing, straight-acting employee Max (Louis Greatorex), who impulsively bunks off work to come with Layla to a club, and soon they are having a passionate but secret affair.

But Layla always suspects agony is around the corner because Max is not yet being honest with the world about his identity. He can be awkward and patronising, persistently out of place in Feathers, the nightclub which has been a welcoming home to Layla and the queer artistic community. He questions Layla’s they/them pronouns: “Isn’t it impersonal?” he asks. On the contrary, Layla replies, it is very personal.

So is Max permanently marooned in his square, clenched, straight-simulacrum idea of what all relationships should be? The last straw comes when he invites Layla to his ultra-neat flat to meet his family; it is an interesting, carefully composed scene in which Max’s dad and his sister arrive intent in their entirely well-meaning way on being friendly with Layla, and in no way difficult or homophobic. It is actually a courageous gesture on Max’s part which Layla is apparently not prepared to reciprocate, perhaps because the real family here is Layla’s supportive queer friend group. But the film shows that Max cannot quite bring himself to discuss what Layla does – and therefore what Layla actually is – claiming instead that she is a comedian. The dad says that he is himself a huge fan of Have I Got News For You; it is a tellingly excruciating moment.

I couldn’t help feeling that in the end the film could have done more to acknowledge the complexity of Max’s heartbreak, but it’s carried by a winning performance from Hasna.

Layla is in UK cinemas from 22 November.