The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com 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 FILM NOTEBOOK TV NOTEBOOK