The Big Sick. (2017)
Comedy / Romance.
Rating: 4/5
Synopsis:
Slightly based on the real story of how Kumail Nanjiani (played by himself) and Emily V. Gordon (played by Zoe Kazan) met, The Big Sick explores whether different cultures can affect a relationship. When Emily is suddenly rushed in to hospital, Kumail develops a bond with her parents, all the while worrying how to deal with his own traditionally Muslim parents.
Review:
To advertise the film as a "romantic comedy" I feel is misleading, and will likely be snubbed at by insecure little boys who fear a genre often referred to as a "chick flick." Yes, in many ways, The Big Sick is set up as a romantic comedy. It follows the traditional plot formula of the "meet cute", the break up, the dark moment and the reconciliation, and it is indeed at times romantic and comedic.
However, when your leading lady spends half the film's length in a medically induced coma, it allows a breath of fresh air in to a overused genre structure.
The Big Sick is instead more focused on the life of Kumail Nanjiani and how his Pakistani upbringing clashes with his Americanised lifestyle. He doesn't want to be a doctor or a lawyer, and instead wants to pursue a career as a stand up comedian. He doesn't pray, and instead uses that time to play video games.
Kumail has a family meal frequently in which a potential future wife "drops in." Pakistani culture believes in arranged marriage (or as it's called in Pakistan - marriage) and his parents set up auditions for their son to choose a wife. Kumail feels it is best to hide his relationship with Emily from them, as to be in a relationship with some one who is white, would mean that person would be "ghost" out of the family.
Nanjiani has made sure that Muslim experiences are featured prominently, with a touch of dry humour. When Kumail first started doing small gigs as a comedian, he would have racist insults heckled at him. There is a scene in which he is told to go back to Isis. Kumail responds that he is indeed a terrorist and is a stand up comedian just to blend in. This is something he would actually say at his gigs to lower the tension in the audience.
Similarly there is a scene in which he is asked his opinion of 9/11. To which Kumail responds "it was a tragedy, I mean, we lost 19 of our best guys." The joke is expertly executed, and underlines the prejudices Muslims face, even when they're not ill intent.
Kumail Nanjiani is so adorable throughout the film that you can't help but fall in love with him yourself. Zoe Kazan as Emily is also extremely pleasant. The building relationship between the two is believable, and even though we all know that in real life they do end up together, you still cheer for the couple.
It is Kumail's relationship between Emily's worried parents (Hunter and Romano) however that are the strongest element to the film, and where the film pauses the classic rom com tropes. It's always awkward to meet your partner's parents for the first time, it's got to be more uncomfortable when said partner is seriously sick and unconscious. Hunter and Romano bring even more charm and humour to the film.
Side note: I was so happy to see Ray Romano on screen again and not voicing an animated mammoth. Everybody loves that guy.
In the end, The Big Sick is thoroughly enjoyable and delightful. The humour is subtle but effective and the characters are all likeable. If I was to have one gripe, it would be that it is slightly too long. The third act could have been edited down. I mean Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk (2017) has a shorter running time, and that's a Nolan film!
Nevertheless, I hope people give this film a chance, and fall in love with Kumail as I did.
Cast and Credits.
Director: Michael Showalter. Apatow Productions, FilmNation Entertainment, Story Ink.
Producers: Judd Apatow, Barry Mendel.
Writers: Kumail Nanjiani, Emily V. Gordon.
Camera: Brian Burgoyne.
Music: Michael Andrews.
Sets: Brandon Tonner-Connolly.
Kumail Nanjiani, Zoe Kazan, Holly Hunter, Ray Romano, Anupam Kher, Zenobia, Shroff, Adeel Akhtar, Bo Burnham, Aidy Bryant, Kurt Braunohler.
Review by Claire Durrant
