 |
| It’s A Wonderful Afterlife promises too much and delivers too little. |
|
|
|
|
|
Aburlesque comedy thriving on mad moments and grotesque exaggeration,
It’s A Wonderful Afterlife promises too much and delivers too little. Filmed on the lines of an Ealing comedy where raucous humour meets pure silliness, this Gurinder Chadha film elicits easy laughter in parts — even the occasional belly laugh — but is unfortunately an uneven, sometimes boring, ride for the larger part of its 100 minutes of running time.
Much like the director’s highly acclaimed
Bend It Like Beckham,
IAWA is set in the burgeoning Asian community in London’s Southall. Among its thousands of residents is Mrs Sethi (Shabana Azmi), a just-widowed overbearing, but affectionate Punjabi mother whose only aim in life is to get daughter Roopi (Goldy Notay) married. But this is easier said than done for Roopi is not only dowdy and overweight, but a feminist to boot who thinks that rolling out chapatis is a sign of oppression against women!
The desperate Mrs Sethi tries to matchmake unsuccessfully, meeting with humiliating comments like, “Whoever marries her will never need a mattress” and “Her bottom is larger than a buffalo’s”, causing her to go over the edge and turn into the Curry Killer of Southall, a murderer who torments her victims — the men who have jilted Roopi and/or their matchmakers — to death by food. Mauling with a rolling pin, suffocating to death with flour dough, force-feeding a suitor to the point that his entrails literally explode in the attending doctor’s face or even sticking a skewer — complete with succulent pieces of chicken — in a victim’s neck, murderous mayhem is unleashed.
But no one suspects the unassuming Mrs Sethi till the time all the victims — now restless spirits — return to torment her. What starts off as an uneasy relationship, however, soon develops into a peaceful coexistence. The spirits not only watch TV and go shopping with Mrs Sethi, they also help her in finding a suitable match for Roopi.
Over the top and relying largely on broad, farcical humour, all is good with
IAWA as long as the comic moments keep coming. Mrs Sethi’s delightful interactions with the powder-grey ghosts who function much like a Greek chorus and Roopi’s best friend Linda’s (Sally Hawkins) predilection to slip into ‘psychic’ mode at every available opportunity are good fun. The Carrie-inspired scene in which a spurned Linda causes champagne bottles to spray off at will, makes papads fly in the air and indulges in a curry fight at her own engagement is one of the high points of the film. Bizarre yes, but you can’t stop that guffaw.
The rest of
IAWA isn’t half as delightful. The romance between Roopi and Raj (Sendhil ‘he’s-so-hot’ Ramamurthy) is too half-baked to register while the uninspired climax is a bit of a downer. The film drags on for the most part, making it more suitable for a long-running sitcom.
Like
Bend It Like Beckham,
IAWA had the potential to be a girl-power movie. But apart from the mention of an abusive marriage here and women’s rights there, Gurinder Chadha restricts herself to a crowd-pleaser comedy. Whenever she attempts to juggle genres, the film falls flat.
If the writing is a letdown, the performances lift
IAWA. Overweight and unkempt, Shabana Azmi is a perfect fit as Mrs Sethi, moving effortlessly from the comic scenes to the poignant moments.
Goldy Notay does well as the spurned Roopi who eventually comes into her own while Sally Hawkins is a riot as the India-obsessed Linda.
Of the ghosts, Sanjeev Bhaskar — think
Kumars at No. 42 — has the best lines, but it is Zoe Wanamaker — as Mrs Sethi’s friendly neighbour who falls prey to a poisoned
laddoo — who enthralls.
The final word from a woman watcher? While his acting skills may be a little suspect, it is the gorgeous Sendhil Ramamurthy who makes the
Afterlife trip worthwhile. Just watch his Raj romancing Roopi with British band Black’s eternal classic
It’s A Wonderful Life playing in the background. Hey, this life isn’t so bad after all!
t2
3.26 Copyright (C) 2008 Compojoom.com / Copyright (C) 2007 Alain Georgette / Copyright (C) 2006 Frantisek Hliva. All rights reserved."