 is a ground-breaking portrayal of British Asians that now feels more relevant than ever.){kind=link}
Stephen Frears’ My Beautiful Laundrette (1985) is a ground-breaking portrayal of British Asians that now feels more relevant than ever.
There’s no more unanimously-agreed sentence in the UK right now than: “British politics is highly volatile at the moment.” Young and old generations, from Land’s End to John O’Groats, have observed this from its various starting points (Brexit? Ed Miliband eating a hot dog? Tony Blair?) Rishi Sunak’s recent speech at the doors of 10 Downing Street did nothing more than confirm this. Sunak rightfully condemned the lack of safety MPs felt, and the rise of Islamophobia and anti-semitism in the country. His stance on Britishness felt more strange. He appealed to some sense of a common Britishness, citing his identity as a practising Hindu who became Prime Minister. However, Sunak also criticised people who “tell children that the system is rigged against them, or that Britain is a racist country.”
It’s strange, but also educational to watch My Beautiful Laundrette in the aftermath of Sunak’s speech. Is Britain a racist country? Is the system rigged? In My Beautiful Laundrette, released almost 40 years ago, a tinny score of intermittent percussion instrumentals accompanies a scene where a group of fascists harass a group of British Pakistanis. The group consists of Omar (Gordon Warnecke), his financially successful uncle Salim (Derrick Branche) and Salim’s wife Cherry (Souad Faress). They contrast with the fascists, who are aimless and drunkenly pejorative towards the three.
The film centres around Omar’s relationship with Johnny (a young Daniel Day-Lewis at the start of his career) who is a former fascist, and together they refurbish and open a new laundrette in South London. Omar’s affluent uncle Nasser (Saeed Jaffrey) assists his nephew in learning how to make a quid or two. Meanwhile, Omar’s father Hussain languishes in their home, a bedridden alcoholic socialist distraught at the state of Thatcherite England. Omar’s family oscillate in terms of the way they perceive England and themselves within the country. At one point, Nasser tells Johnny “There’s no question of race in the new enterprise culture”, yet remarks in another scene that it’s “typically English” for Omar to hire someone else to do all the work.
A 1986 American review of the film commented that “the film’s most sympathetic as well as most stubbornly faithful characters are English.” I would heartily disagree with that point. One of my favourite things about the film is how it allows both its Asian and white characters to be at times dislikeable, but understandable beings. Johnny is a former fascist and squatter. However, on the orders of Nasser and driven by his desire to make something of himself, he kicks out a rowdy tenant. Hussein is seen as an irritable nuisance to Omar at the beginning of the film. In one scene, he shouts at his son for failing to clip his toenails the right way as a bottle of vodka is pictured by his side. Yet, we see that his dissatisfaction with the world comes from a genuine place of hurt. Hussein mentored youth in the area, and to his shock, saw some (including Johnny) march with fascists.
Characters like Nasser, who cheats on his wife with Rachel (Shirley Anne Field), yet is shown at times to be a caring father and uncle to Tania (Rita Wolf) and Omar, seem refreshingly less one-dimensional than the depiction of British Asians in Ayub Khan-Din’s East is East (1999) for example. In East is East, George Khan (Om Puri) is an abusive patriarch, dissatisfied with the refusal of his children to embark on arranged marriages. A quote from scholar Loretta Collins Klobah encapsulates my qualms with East is East and my preference for My Beautiful Laundrette. Klobah argued that the film “does not subvert or unsettle some of the popular cultural notions about traditional ‘Asians’ in Britain upon which conventional representations of Britishness and multiculturalism are based.”
It would be facile to argue that the movie does not have its faults. I particularly appreciate the arguments of feminist critics towards the film. For example, the scholar Amal Zaman argued that the film’s portrayal of South Asian women left much to be desired. In ‘Consider the Aunty: The Obfuscation of Desire in My Beautiful Laundrette‘ Zaman disagreed with the portrayal of older South Asian women as “stagnant, controlling and censuring.” Zaman saw this portrayal of older South Asian women as “keepers of tradition” as heavily stereotypical. Nasser’s wife Auntie Farida, who seldom features in the film, is evocative of Zaman’s argument. Distraught with her husband’s affair, she successfully makes a traditional ‘potion’ to hurt Rachel.
My Beautiful Laundrette was nominated for an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. Indeed, Hanif Kureishi’s script is artfully comprised of various quips that can oft go over the viewer’s head: “told my Mum (Crystal) Palace wanted me for a sweeper…(She) said ‘I reckon that’s about your level’.”) As we now watch the film in a period wherein British politics proves normative in the manner it treats cultural identity, it is clear that Frears’ movie deserves greater appreciation and is as ground-breaking as ever.
Words by Geena Dhillon
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