In Bassam Tariq‘s first fiction feature film, Mogul Mowgli, his central character comes alive during his rap battles with other like-minded, energised young men. In those brash, bold lyrics are statements and declarations of identity and ethnicity. Undercurrents of aggressive racial tensions are practically spilling over the edge.
But in spite of first appearances, this is no 8 Mile; though, Zed, our protagonist played with hefty punch from Riz Ahmed, is displayed to be something of an outsider in a similar vein. Tariq has a substantial background in documentary films and shorts. Away from the central plot-line, Tariq makes smart impressions of the world in which Zed dwells.
The darkened blues of those New York City nights in the opening sequences are certainly miles and miles from the somewhat colourless hues of the British landscape. There’s also an understandable, resentful distance / disdain of the States from Zed’s Pakistani family.
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An early scene on his frazzled return is so wonderfully grounded with its naturalistic dialogue as it captures the family sitting around the living room. Zed just sits among the debate, spoken of practically in the third person. But this is no East is East either. Though the depiction of the Pakistani British heritage feels remarkably organic as it did in the 1999 film.
These scenes, and ones which later inflict further social substance, only seem to invade Zed’s personal space and deem him unsettled and unsure – even before his imminent bad news. As Zed wakes dazed and confused in the vivid brightness of the hospital, he finds himself surrounded by his nattering family once more. Zed knows as much as we do that opening your eyes amidst frantic family in a hospital bed does not deliver a confidence-boosting scenario.
Zed goes from the uncomfortable young man rekindling with his family, to being thrown slap-bang into the unknown realm of physical illness. Of course, this autoimmune disease hits Zed for six. More tragically for him is that it cuts short a potentially prosperous international rap tour. The ambitious young man slowly slumbers further into despair, increasingly in danger of disappearing completely.
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Zed has to battle various demons, now confronted with him not just through the very real illness. But also the uncertainty of where his life goes from here. In various forms, Zed mentally contorts as his body fails him, often accompanied by visions and nightmares. Are these memories or premonitions being distorted in the mind’s eye? Or is this reality?
Mogul Mowgli filters this somewhat jagged spiral for Zed with some gutsy execution. We’re dragged into his point of view with being throttled or manipulated. His journey, as harsh and painful as it is, still provides a compelling set of wheels. The film’s editing certainly creates and maintains an unease throughout. Mogul Mowgli oozes grit and energy in most of the right places.
As an audience member yourself there may be times you squirm in your chair – the cupping treatment scene for instance. Zed’s relationship with his father is a mixed bag, both in actuality and how it is depicted on screen. There’s volatility between them for sure, but also a true sense of familial loyalty and love. In the end, two late sequences in particular, its near-impossible to not be moved by their turbulent relationship.
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Completely let off the leash but not once descending into acting madness, the thunderous and sensitive turn from Riz Ahmed is yet another example of why we ought to be banging his drum. This might well be his crowning moment in an prospering, young career. Ahmed both echoes the darkness of the character and his surrounding, and provides the light one might long for when seeing a character being stripped of his gusto.
High praise for director Bassam Tariq and actor Riz Ahmed (both co-wrote the screenplay) is an easy evaluation to make. And well earned. As involved as we become through the chaotic realism, however, Mogul Mowgli sometimes falls guilty of lingering rather than dwelling.
Some might find that the film juggles between self indulgent and ambitious at times. It is tough to gauge the balance and the impact of the two is distracting in places, but hardly a spoiler. As the film gets stuck in places, though, this could well be attributed to the increasing feeling that we’re being put in Zed’s deteriorating shoes. The discomfort is simply part of the package.