4.5 stars out of 5
This movie is incredibly corny, somewhat cheesily made… and I really loved it. Based on a true story, we meet Javed, a 16-year-old Pakistani boy in working-class Luton, England. He dreams of being a writer but his traditional dad pushes Javed to pursue a “respectable” career — doctor, lawyer, etc. Meanwhile, local skinhead racism also makes his life miserable. Javed feels so stifled in his small town — until he makes a new friend at school who introduces him to the music of Bruce Springsteen. Suddenly Javed’s eyes are open to a land of hope of dreams.
Oh, also, it’s 1987, right in my teenage wheelhouse, so the music and styles grabbed me immediately. (Level 42, for god’s sakes!) And of course I’m a total sucker for Springsteen. But ultimately this tale is for anyone who has found inspiration in art — that special secret connection when the images, words, sounds, craft — whatever! — speak directly to you, taking you out of your own world and showing you a different path. As teens we’re particularly open to this influence.
Viveik Kalra is excellent and very likable as Javed. He captures the character’s awkwardness and inner passion, his frustration and discovery, and the sweet ache of teen love. But even better is Kulvinder Ghir as his father. Ghir becomes the proud but beaten-down factory worker who wants his children to do better than he did, which sadly comes across as forcing his ways on them. This would be ripe for caricature but Ghir keeps it real, and it’s a truly affecting performance. And fans of Brit comedy will appreciate the casting of Rob Brydon in a small role wearing a crazy wig.
The prominent presence of xenophobia and racism adds an unfortunate level of modern relevance to the film. (Maybe Chris Christie can convince Trump to watch this movie? Maybe Morrissey will catch it on a plane? He and the Smiths are mentioned twice in positive terms, well before Moz’s anti-immigrant stance went public.) Blinded by the Light also shows the wonder of the immigrant experience: striving for a brighter future, staying proud of one’s culture while also assimilating into the new environment, occasionally creating a magical blend that benefits everyone. (Worth noting: Rather than having some white-imperialist dude strong-arming musical tastes on innocent Javed, it’s his Sikh pal Roops — as it was in real life — who lends him the Bruce tapes.)
Yes, there are flaws. It’s September 1987 and a sign in school says “Welcome to the Class of 1987.” (If that’s some crazy UK-only bookkeeping, do let me know.) Welcome signs again prove problematic later at Newark Airport — which looks like it was filmed in my apartment — where a banner proclaims, “Welcome to New York.” Uhhhh…. But there’s a genuine sense of joy here that is absolutely contagious. In that regard, it reminded me a bit of (500) Days of Summer except that one was all phony-baloney and slick. This is rough around the edges and left me with a huge smile on my face. And the soundtrack is pretty good too.
I did not know Morrissey had made anti-immigrant statements. There was already much to dislike about him though.
pretty stoked for Morrissey concert next month
yay, gay, play, everyday, sunday