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American Blend (2006) Director: Varun Khanna Cast: Anupam Kher, Dee Wallace, Ranjit Chowdhry, David Oyelowo, Rubin Garfias, Kristin Erickson, Sunkrish Bala Time: 100 min. English Rating: |
ABCD is an acronym that means “American-Born Confused Desi.” Indians living in South Asia use it half-derisively in referring to the children of Indians living in US. The term implies a terminal identity crisis in which the person cannot reconcile his Indian-ness with his American-ness or in which the person has a bizarre grasp of what being Indian means. When applied to this movie, ABCD means “annoying, boorish, childish, dreadful.”
In American Blend, Anupam Kher plays Raj, an Indian immigrant who manages a restaurant and his three children in Los Angeles. The dramatic tension erupts when Raj’s white American wife Jayme (Dee Wallace) reveals the identity of her daughter’s father. Jayme is Raj’s second wife, but we learn that his first wife, who was Indian, died of some undisclosed illness, while Raj was having an affair with Jayme. These revelations disrupt the already tenuous unity in the house.
When presented as text, this plot sounds like a great laboratory for exploring self and identity. Sadly, the script, written by director Varun Khanna, is only an exploration of unexamined selves, inane dialogue, clichés, and action driven purely by the director’s whims. (Why do directors think they can write?)
The title suggests that this film is about identity and about the blending of American and Indian culture. But Khanna’s concept of identity, as voiced by Raj’s son Brijesh (Sunkrish Bala, whose hair is dyed the most annoying shade of yellow), is based purely on skin color and the native country of one’s parents: Brijesh is Indian because he has brown skin and his father is from South Asia; Jayme is American because she’s white; and Lupe, the sous chef, is Mexican because he has brown skin and comes from a village in Mexico.
This superficial view of identity and ethnicity doesn’t even acknowledge the role of culture. Brijesh completely fails to realize that by embracing hip-hop and rejecting Bollywood movie songs, he is more American than Indian. Yet he belittles Jayme for wearing Indian salwar kameezes and teaching kathak dance, which in some ways makes her more Indian than him.
As a subplot, Jayme’s daughter Maya starts dating Mercury, a British guy of African decent whose parents live comfortable upper-middle class lives in London. Inexplicably, Brijesh and Raj are upset that Maya is dating a black guy. (Khanna seems to have a Colonial hang-up about white skin being superior to all other colors.)
But so many details of American Blend are inexplicable. Mercury dreams of making it on Broadway as a tap dancer. So why is he living in Los Angeles and auditioning for movies? When was the last time tap was ever featured prominently on Broadway? Raj’s three children are old enough to get into clubs and drink, but they don’t seem to do anything else with their lives. Do they have jobs other than waiting tables in their father’s restaurant? Are they in college? And strangely, or conveniently, the restaurant contains Jayme’s dance studio and the family’s home. More strangely, or conveniently, they eat dinner in the restaurant. Does it shut in the middle of the evening for their meals? Do they eat at midnight after it closes? And why do the three children walk everywhere? Are they the only people in Los Angeles who don’t own a car?
There is one explanation for these bizarre details. The script says this is what must be. And this mentality drives every action in the movie. Brijesh and Maya suddenly behave like three-year-olds throwing tantrums for no other reason than the script guides their behavior. Raj drops his tolerant views to utter racial stereotypes because they are written in the script. Yogi, the restaurant’s Indian chef, faces a deportation hearing when his work permit application is rejected because the script requires an unrealistic subplot to make some vague point about being an immigrant in the US. (Anyone who has entered the US legally and navigated the INS/USCIS system knows that deportation hearings are not held for a work permit being rejected.)
And the film arrives at a happy ending without ever correcting the misperception about skin color equaling ethnic and cultural identity. Unrealistically, all tensions and anger get blended into the background in a closing wedding party dance sequence that poorly blends Hollywood and Bollywood. If this is Khanna’s idea of an American Blend, I’ll stick to the pure breed.
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