The kids, needless to say, have other ideas. With the exception of the meek Maneer (Emil Marwa), who tries for Muslim piety, the others all regard themselves as English. As the story begins, the eldest son, Nazir (Ian Aspinall), leaves his arranged bride at the altar and flees to London, which causes George to take his picture off the wall, declare him dead, and turn his attention to controlling every aspect of the other kids' lives.
Tariq (Jimi Mistry), or "Tony" when he's at the disco, is a heartthrob who's carrying on with the pretty girl across the street (Emma Riydal); she adores him despite (or because of) her immigrant-hating father's tendency to display campaign posters for the notorious "Rivers of Blood" nationalist Enoch Powell in his window. Less wild is Abdul (Raji James), but, despite his father's wishes, neither he nor Tariq is about to marry a "fookin' Paki," as George has in mind for them.
Saleem (Chris Bisson) is the college boy, but while he leads George to believe he's an engineering student, he's actually studying art, with Ella slipping him money on the side for supplies. George and Ella's only daughter, Meenah (Archie Panjabi), is spirited and smart and miserable in her sari.
The youngest Khan, Sajid (Jordan Routledge), is a mystery. To the mortification of his parents and siblings, he's withdrawn and sulky, hiding behind the hood of an ugly blue parka cinched up around his face. His "tunnel vision" becomes a metaphor for the film's viewpoint: He is the surrogate for author Khan-Din. But the poor kid doesn't get overlooked, much as he would like: George realizes that Sajid is due for circumcision, and his "tickle-tackle," in his father's phrase, is marked for removal.
Despite the outcome on this matter, George's spiteful, demanding, explosive behavior doesn't take him very far with his family. The Khan children's rebellions, like Nazir's unwillingness to marry or Saleem's secret art-student scam, tend to be silent coups -- often with Ella's quiet alliance -- so George is almost touchingly astounded when he realizes that he's not going to have his way. Yet the film doesn't soft-soap the character; this frustrated, unsuccessful petty tyrant can easily be pushed to ugly violence.
There is some meandering, episodic raggedness to the plotting, but Khan-Din's dialogue has a fine, naturalistic flow, and the young, debuting director O'Donnell, who's neither English nor Pakistani but Irish, skillfully keeps the material from showing too clearly its theatrical origins. The ensemble acting gives the film its comic snap. The siblings seem so much like real brothers and sisters that if we were told that they were a family of Anglo-Pakistani actors, we'd probably believe it. And Bassett's weary, genuinely loving Ella is a joy.
But it's Om Puri, one of the truly great actors of world film, who dominates East Is East and gives it its dignity. Like the director, Puri, who recently played a Pakistani immigrant in My Son the Fanatic, is neither English nor Pakistani. He's Indian, and given the current state of relations between India and its neighbor to the northwest, he may have had some gleeful, nationalist fun playing this short-fused Pakistani bully. He makes the handsome, intense, pock-faced George Khan a whole character, though, and ultimately a likable one. The performance is harsh and sad and unsentimental and deeply funny. The same goes for the movie as a whole.
For M.V. Moorhead's interview with Jimi Mistry of East Is East, click here.
