By Lindsey Bahr, AP Film Writer
That two people could overcome centuries-old cultural obstacles, the perils of modern dating and a critical illness and end up together is a great story. That those two people also managed to adapt their own great story into a great movie is a miracle.
It's the wonder of "The Big Sick ," the must-see romantic comedy of the year. Sweet-natured, funny and genuine, you're not likely to have a more pleasant time at the cinema this summer.
At the center is Kumail Nanjiani, the deft comedian who audiences might know from HBO's "Silicon Valley." He actually uses his full, real name in the film, which he co-wrote with his wife, Emily Gordon and based on their wild courtship. Emily has ceded her part to an actress, Zoe Kazan, who continues her very persuasive campaign to be the rom-com dream girl for those who fancy themselves better than rom-coms.
Kumail is a struggling stand-up comedian who pays the rent for his awful Chicago apartment by driving for Uber. When he's not on the stage, or in the car, he's at home with his family in the suburbs. They're Pakistani and Muslim and have all had arranged marriages and expect Kumail to do the same. He's managed to live a bit of a double life for a while — dating who he wants while also holding up the pretense of being a good Pakistani son. But everything changes when he meets Emily, the white grad student who he falls for and then loses when she realizes that he's been hiding her from his family.
To be fair, they would literally disown him if he chose Emily over the scores of Pakistani ladies that "just drop by" their family dinners like clockwork, headshot and bio in hand. So Emily and Kumail break up. They have to. It's a standard rom-com beat and obstacle. But then something happens: Kumail gets the call that Emily has been hospitalized, and the movie pivots into something entirely different and infinitely richer than most in the genre.
Suddenly he's the one making the call to put her in a medically induced coma while also informing her parents, Terry and Beth (Ray Romano and Holly Hunter) of their daughter's health turn. Beth is none too happy to have her daughter's ex-boyfriend lurking around during their family crisis, either. Hunter plays Beth, at first, with that scary and all too recognizable indifference of a mother who doesn't care to humor the man who hurt her daughter. But, like everything, that evolves.
One of the really wonderful and telling things about "The Big Sick" is how fleshed out the world is around Kumail and Emily — from Kumail's comedy friends (Bo Burnham, Aidy Bryant and Kurt Braunohler), to his family (Anupam Kher, Zenobia Shroff, Adeel Akhtar and Shenaz Treasury) and Emily's parents, no supporting character is made into a caricature. Even the potential wives are given distinct and memorable personalities. Their presence is mined for comedy, but the women aren't punchlines. It's a delicate balance that "The Big Sick" gets just right.
If there is anything to pick on, it's that we never get to know Emily as well as Kumail. It's not her fault, she's in a coma for most of the film, and we get a fair amount of color at the beginning, but her arc leaves a bit to be desired.
Michael Showalter's direction isn't flashy or stylish, either. His camera is there in service of the story and the characters and it doesn't get in the way.
Some stories are too good to be true, and some true stories are too good for the movies. Luckily for us, "The Big Sick" is neither.
"The Big Sick," an Amazon Studios and Lionsgate release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association of America for "language including some sexual references." Running time: 119 minutes. Three and a half stars out of four.
Review: Writer-Director Andrea Arnold’s “Bird”
"Is it too real for ya?" blares in the background of Andrea Arnold's latest film, "Bird," a 12-year-old Bailey (Nykiya Adams) rides with her shirtless, tattoo-covered dad, Bug (Barry Keoghan), on his electric scooter past scenes of poverty in working-class Kent.
The song's question — courtesy of the Irish post-punk band Fontains D.C. — is an acute one for "Bird." Arnold's films ( "American Honey," "Fish Tank") are rigorous in their gritty naturalism. Her fiction films — this is her first in eight years — tend toward bleak, hand-held verité in rough-and-tumble real-world locations. Her last film, "Cow," documented a mother cow separated from her calf on a dairy farm.
Arnold specializes in capturing souls, human and otherwise, in soulless environments. A dream of something more is tantalizing just out of reach. In "American Honey," peace comes to Star (Sasha Lane) only when she submerges underwater.
In "Bird," though, this sense of otherworldly possibility is made flesh, or at least feathery. After a confusing night, Bailey awakens in a field where she encounters a strange figure in a skirt ( Franz Rogowski ) who arrives, like Mary Poppins, with a gust a wind. His name, he says, is Bird. He has a soft sweetness that doesn't otherwise exist in Bailey's hardscrabble and chaotic life.
She's skeptical of him at first, but he keeps lurking about, hovering gull-like on rooftops. He cranes his neck now and again like he's watching out for Bailey. And he does watch out for her, helping Bailey through a hard coming of age: the abusive boyfriend (James Nelson-Joyce) of her mother (Jasmine Jobson); her half brother (Jason Buda) slipping into vigilante violence; her father marrying a new girlfriend.
The introduction of surrealism has... Read More