Richard “Cheech” Marin’s 1987 film, “Born in East L.A.,” is resurfacing amid America’s conversation over immigration policy. The comedy achieves what shouting can’t. It entertains and provokes reflection, satirizing the deportation of a Mexican-American caught up in a raid.

According to the Government Accountability Office, about 70 American citizens were deported in error between 2015 and 2020. Those cases combine bureaucratic inefficiency and the violation of civil rights. Yet in such ordeals, Mr. Marin found a way to make us laugh — and to have his say.

In March of 2024, Mr. Marin screened “Born in East L.A.” at the San Diego Latino Film Festival. He recalled stepping out to write, direct, and star in his first solo film, having just ended his partnership with Tommy Chong.

The plot of “Born in East L.A.,” Mr. Marin explained at San Diego, was based on “a young kid …13 or 12 or something like that,” who was deported in error. Because he didn’t speak either English or Spanish “that well,” he was sent to Mexico.

The boy wandered Tijuana’s streets for more than a month, his family having no idea where he was. While reading the story, Mr. Marin heard “Born in the USA,” Bruce Springsteen’s 1984 song, on the radio, and began singing, “Born in East L.A.”

The parody features throughout the movie. “Next thing I know,” one lyric goes, “I’m in a foreign land; people talkin’ so fast, I couldn’t understand.” Many Americans with roots in other countries can relate.

Mr. Marin portrays Guadalupe Rudolfo “Rudy” Robles, an Army veteran, mechanic, and guitarist who — like his parents and grandparents — was born in L.A.. Like many Americans who are generations removed from their ancestral land, he’s lost touch with its culture.

At the heart of “Born in East L.A.” is what it means to be an American. To the immigration officers, Mr. Robles is indistinguishable from Mexican citizens. South of the border, locals identify him as an American because how he behaves trumps his appearance.

Mr. Robles is unable to communicate with Mexicans even as American officials are deaf to his pleas in English. Daniel Stern — portraying Jimmy, a bar-owning “coyote,” or human smuggler — is one of many who illustrates the absurdity by complimenting how well Mr. Robles “speaks English.”

Having forgotten his identification and sharing the name of a Mexican criminal, Mr. Robles finds himself stranded. “I’m an American citizen!” he says throughout the film, refusing to let his core identity be stripped.

It’s a fish-out-of-water story made more poignant and farcical since he looks like everyone else swimming in the pond. For those familiar only with Mr. Marin’s satire, his attention to small details speaks to his skill as a storyteller.

Jimmy asks Mr. Robles what he’d like to eat, assuming he’ll choose Mexican fare. Instead, he asks for a steak. He kicks a soccer ball as if for the first time but drafts an American-style football play with X’s and O’s to evade the Border Patrol.

Throughout “Born in East L.A.,” good and bad characters emerge from all backgrounds. Just as nationality can’t be determined by appearance, a Border Patrol uniform or ability to speak Spanish doesn’t telegraph if someone is friend or foe.

The title of 1938’s “There’s Always a Woman” holds true for “Born in East L.A.” Kamala Lopez portrays a Salvadoran, Dolores. Robbed when she arrived in Mexico, she’s working three jobs in hopes of crossing the border. Although rankled by Mr. Robles’s American ways, she’s never a scold.

Today’s Hollywood is prone to hammering the themes of “Born in East L.A.,” casting immigration policy in black and white. Mr. Marin focuses instead on his character’s plight. His is a clear case of injustice, which gets the audience on his side — laughing and willing to listen.

The full theatrical version of “Born in East L.A.,” as opposed to the one truncated for TV broadcast, is well worth a watch. It’s relevant today, as they say. It’s also a chance to reflect on what it means to be an American, and to laugh together rather than shout across the borders that divide us.