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Arts
Thursday, November 9, 2017 — 5B
AMAZON STUDIOS
Muslims on-screen: An
honest reflection on my
love for ‘The Big Sick’
The lasting effect of a romantic comedy that gets it (somewhat) right
It feels weird to say, but
the movie that challenged me
the most this past year was
“The Big Sick.” Yes, that one.
The charming indie romantic
comedy
starring
Kumail
Nanjiani (“Silicon Valley”) and
Zoe Kazan (“The Deuce”).
Here, for once, was a positive
portrayal of Muslims, right?
They’re not terrorists, at least
— the lowest possible bar to
clear for representation for our
people — and the guy is…dating
a white woman? That seems
kind of progressive. I watched it
and loved it. It was funny in the
right spots, tender in the others,
a warm and intimate study of a
relationship that requires more
nuance in practice than in its
idealized conception. And that’s
not even getting into how good
Ray Romano (“Get Shorty”) is
here.
But
in
my
post-film
discussions
with
the
other
fellows of my ilk — “brown
people,” as one might like to
call them — I was disheartened.
I rushed to extoll the film’s
virtues to two of my friends
(both Muslim, South Asian
women) only to find them
disenchanted at best, disgusted
at worst. I texted my sister
immediately after, expecting
wholehearted enthusiasm but
instead receiving a reply full
of accusatory disappointment.
And on a quick phone call with
my mother, I found that while
my appreciation for Kumail
Nanjiani had bloomed, Mrs.
Chollampat’s greatest fear had
been actualized on the silver
screen: That her son (me, for
those of you keeping score)
would
eventually
marry
a
white girl.
This is the worst feeling.
I hate liking something,
and
then
finding
out
it’s
“problematic.” It sucks. You
feel
like
an
asshole.
But,
determined to continue liking
this movie, I engaged in what
the kids these days call “civil
discourse.”
My
friends’
and
family’s
main issues with “The Big
Sick,” it turned out, are ones
of representation. The South
Asian women — particularly
the mother — are portrayed as
incorrigible, shrew-like, alien;
Nanjiani’s self-titled character,
however, is the paragon of the
assimilated immigrant. Kumail
is afforded the agency that the
women of the story, save for
one brief exchange of dialogue
with a potential suitor, are not.
I’d like to counter that this is
an autobiographical story and
it’s simply the tale of his life
that he’s telling, but I can’t.
That’s too shallow. It’s a valid
critique and one that I failed to
acknowledge.
What
struck
me
most,
however, and what challenged
me to my core (I know, this
is just a Sundance romantic
comedy, can you believe it?),
was “The Big Sick”’s portrayal
of Muslims. It’s funny, now that
I think about it. Remember just,
like 10 or so years ago, when the
only work an Arab guy could
get in Hollywood was some
dude named Abdul bin-[insert
“extremely al-Qaeda operative”
surname here] on “24”? Or this
classic: We cut to a Middle
Eastern country (which we
know is Middle Eastern because,
duh, the Muslim call to prayer
is playing in the background!)
where a guy finishes up on his
prayer rug before proceeding to
strap a bomb on his chest and
blow up a bustling market?
Contrast
that
with
the
notable
prayer-rug
scene
in “The Big Sick.” Kumail’s
mother tells him to pray before
dinner, so he grabs the prayer
rug, heads downstairs, throws
on a timer for five minutes and
sits and watches videos on his
phone. I’m sorry, Umma, but I
have literally gone through this
exact process before.
Where’s the happy medium,
though? If the two possibilities
for Muslims onscreen toggle
between
deranged
terrorist
and guy who fakes prayer
and drinks at comedy clubs,
what does that mean for the
comfortably religious Muslim
American family?
It’s clear “The Big Sick”
was sanitized, in some way,
to appeal to the Sundance
crowd. Kumail abandons any
and all semblance of Islam in
his quest to court (and then
care for) Emily. His culture of
arranged marriages and stilted
family dinners and overbearing
Muslim
mothers
and
the
dreaded prospect of a wife with
an Indian accent is, for the
most part, portrayed as wholly
undesirable.
There’s room to grow, then.
I don’t mean to defame Kumail
Nanjiani’s relationship with his
religion; God (I should probably
say Allah here) only knows
I’m not a perfect Muslim. But
it’s clear that Islam isn’t at
the same level of widespread
understanding in film as other
cultures; there’s less room for
error.
The “lapsed Catholic” is
a genre unto itself. So, too,
are Woody Allen’s and Larry
David’s
“self-deprecating
Jew” filmographies. We can’t
afford to show ourselves to
the
American
audience
at
this nebulous space between
devout
fundamentalism
—
which is inevitably positioned
as antithetical to the entire
American experiment — and
a complete lack of adherence
to religion. For the average
moviegoer, Muslims, as they
are in so many other facets of
contemporary life, are held
to a different standard than
everyone else: they must occupy
a binary while everyone else is
afforded the range of spiritual
possibility. It all, of course, boils
down to that tiresome cliché of
assimilation vs. acculturation.
Perhaps there’s no better
recent example of this abstract
conflict
than,
ironically
enough, last year’s Democratic
National
Convention.
Khizr
and Ghazala Khan stood on
the
stage
in
Philadelphia,
home of the Liberty Bell and
the signing of the Declaration
of
Independence,
frantically
waving the Constitution as
they lamented the loss of their
soldier son, killed in Iraq
and posthumously awarded a
Purple Heart and a Bronze Star,
who was finally laid to rest at
Arlington National Cemetery,
draped in an American flag.
And yet, their patriotism was
questioned.
I still love “The Big Sick.”
I laugh at Kumail’s snarky
but loving relationship with
his mother; I’m moved by
Zoe
Kazan’s
understated
performance. It’s a romantic
comedy
about
comedians
starring a brown Muslim guy
that features an incredible 9/11
joke — a film seemingly tailor-
made for me. It’s not perfect, I
know, but for the Aziz Ansari’s
and the Hasan Minhaj’s and the
Kumail Nanjiani’s and [insert
plural characterization of a
female Muslim comedian who
will hopefully be just as famous
very soon] of the world, it’s a
step in the right direction. I’m
fine with it.
NABEEL CHOLLAMPAT
Senior Arts Editor
HBO
Larry, oh Larry, oh Larry
A look at the problematic portrayal of Judaism on television
Oy Gevalt: How modern
TV secularizes Judaism
The first time I really felt like I
saw myself — or rather, my Jewish
identity — on TV was in the 2003
Disney Channel Original movie,
“Full Court Miracle.” The story
centered
on
Alex
Schlotsky
(Alex D. Linz, “Max Keeble’s Big
Move”), the young, precocious
leader
of
an
inept
Jewish
basketball team, who recruits an
ex-college basketball star to be
their coach.
At the time of its release,
everything about this movie
screamed modern day Jewish
culture to me. Alex’s reticence to
learn Hebrew spoke to my own
struggle
with
understanding
the intricacies of the language.
The
predominantly
Jewish
city of Philadelphia, my dad’s
hometown, felt like a perfect
backdrop for the story. Jewish
lingo and rituals were exchanged
among characters, and above
everything, the Eight Days of
Hanukkah made for a clever
storytelling
framework.
And
in typical Disney fashion, the
climax of the film saw the mighty
young Jewish defeating their
much more imposing opponents,
mirroring the victory of Judah
and
the
Maccabees
against
the Hellenists from the actual
Hanukkah origin story.
Even though I had seen these
themes and images explored
before in other TV movies like
the
“Rugrats”
Passover
and
Hanukkah specials, there was
something
different
about
“Full Court Miracle.” Unlike
“Rugrats,” “Full Court Miracle”
wasn’t a simple retelling of
Jewish oppression in the Bible.
It captured the spirit of Jewish
culture by interweaving it into a
regular, underdog story. Through
normalizing Judaism, TV helped
validate my identity.
Since “Full Court Miracle,”
television
has
continued
to
broaden
and
unfold
the
complexity
of
the
Jewish
community
beyond
religious
holidays like Hanukkah. Current
shows like Comedy Central’s
“Broad
City”
and
Amazon’s
“Transparent,”
both
starring,
written and created by Jews, each
have their distinctive depiction of
Jewish life and culture, but they
both encapsulate the essence of
modern day Judaism through the
mannerisms of their characters.
On “Broad City,” best friends
Abbi Abrams (Abbi Jacobson,
“BoJack Horseman”) and Ilana
Wexler (Ilana Glazer, “The Night
Before”) engage in their Jewish
identity in a way that, more or
less, reflects the current state of
non-practicing, more culturally
attuned Jews in America. They
have difficulty fasting on Yom
Kippur, attempt to go on a
Birthright-like trip to Israel and
face distractions while sitting
Shiva. Since the show caters
to such a wide, diverse young
audience, these moments help
shift misperceptions of Jews
in the entertainment industry,
portraying them as vibrant and
care-free as every other young
adult.
As a much more explicitly
Jewish alternative to “Broad
City,”
“Transparent”
also
finds a way to show Jews as
ordinary members of society
while recognizing the religious
aspects
of
their
identities.
In each of its four seasons,
“Transparent” explored the rich,
complicated history behind the
rich,
complicated
Pfefferman
family. The show’s beginning
skimmed the surface of modern
Jewish family life. It introduced
a rabbi character (Kathryn Hahn,
“I Love Dick”) and depicted
scenes of a Shabbat dinner and
an unsuccessful preparation for
youngest child Ali’s (Cleo Fraser,
“Chronic”) Bat Mitzvah. The
second season expanded on the
first season’s religious themes,
tracing
Maura’s
transgender
identity all the way back to her
aunt Gittel (Hari Nef, “Let Me
Die a Nun”) in Nazi-controlled
Europe.
The third and fourth seasons
took on more current issues
in
the
Jewish
community,
covering topics ranging from the
Israeli/Palestinian
conflict
to
synagogue bureaucracy. Though
the show occasionally drifts
into problematic territory — the
Pfefferman
matriarch
Shelly
(Judith
Light,
“Ugly
Betty”)
plays into the Jewish mother
stereotype almost to a fault —
“Transparent” is a standard
example of how modern day Jews
navigate the everyday world,
confronting the traumas of their
own history in order to come to
terms with their present.
In contrast to the relatively
accurate
representations
of
Jews
in
“Broad
City”
and
“Transparent,”
other
Jewish-
themed shows like HBO’s “Curb
Your Enthusiasm” and Hulu’s
“Difficult People” — both of
which are also starring, written
and created by Jews — have a
tendency to make Jews seem
unlikable.
“Curb” creator and star Larry
David is no stranger to causing
controversy among the Jewish
community, given his sardonic,
neurotic humor and pointed,
sometimes offensive observations
on Jewish culture. While his
most popular work, “Seinfeld,”
was a huge success and a primary
catalyst for Jewish representation
on TV, David reinforces the
worst possible tropes of Jews
on “Curb.” He yells at crying
widows at funerals to shut up,
chastising unruly children and
their overbearing parents during
Passover seders and doodling
Swastikas in textbooks. Then
again,
David
makes
fun
of
himself throughout the show — a
character calls him a “self-hating
Jew,” and David responds, “I do
hate myself, but it has nothing to
do with being Jewish.”
COMEDY CENTRAL
I love female friendship
Hulu’s “Difficult People,” too,
satirizes some absurd facets of
Jewish culture. Billy Eichner
(“American Horror Story: Cult”)
and
Julie
Klausner
(“Bob’s
Burgers”) play two struggling
writers who constantly make fun
of other people, as well as their
own Jewish heritage. The two
venture to Friday night services as
an excuse to network with Jews in
the entertainment industry, make
Adolf Hitler a character in their TV
pitch to NBC and attempt to avoid
their stereotypically insufferable
Jewish families. Similar to “Broad
City,” “Difficult People” tackles
various trends in Jewish life and
the
increasing
disillusionment
toward religious practice among
Jews today, though arguably to
a much more provocative and
exaggerated degree.
Despite how these four shows
differ in their views toward
Judaism, they each incorporate
an honest depiction of Jewish life.
In some ways, the stereotypes
in “Difficult People” and “Curb
Your Enthusiasm” do illuminate
some truths about the attitudes
and beliefs of Jews today, but they
don’t always get at the root of
what makes Judaism so complex
and compelling like in “Broad
City” and “Transparent.” Part of
what makes TV so entertaining
as a medium is being able to not
only see ourselves portrayed
on-screen, but also to see the
subtle nuances of our identities in
those portrayals.
For the average
moviegoer,
Muslims are held
to a different
standard than
everyone else
SAM ROSENBERG
Daily Arts Writer
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