Mira Nair’s “The Reluctant Fundamentalist” is nothing if not topical, concerning as it does the possible radicalization of a young Pakistani man first steeped in, then revolted by, Western culture.
Alas, the film’s relevance — and ultimately sane upshot — is buried beneath a meandering and oftimplausible plot.
It also kicks off with the rather cringe-inducing juxtaposition of a Lahore religious gathering, in which prayers are being sung, with the violent abduction of a middle-aged white man (Gary Richardson), a local professor, from a nearby marketplace.
Soon, investigative American journalist Bobby Lincoln (a sweaty Liev Schreiber) is hunting down one of the academic’s colleagues for a chat. Changez Khan (Riz Ahmed, in a magnetic performance) is a rising star at the local university, known for his galvanizing lectures on revolution.
As Lincoln turns on his iPhone recorder — and not to be a stickler, but dude, VoiceNotes doesn’t work for lengthy interviews — Changez’s narrative flashes back 10 years to his move from Pakistan to study at Princeton and his hiring by a top Wall Street firm. His sharklike boss (Kiefer Sutherland, perfectly cast) digs his accent: “It makes you sound like royalty.”
Changez falls for a young woman (a brunette Kate Hudson) who happens to be the niece of the firm’s founder. She’s also the latest manic pixie dream-girl incarnation: lives in a bohemian downtown loft, makes a living (or whatever) as a photographer. Is there a sad story behind her bright eyes? Of course there is.
Hot job and girlfriend attained, Changez’s world is so American dreamy — but there are hints of trouble: “I don’t recognize my own voice anymore,” he confides to her. “It sounds all tinny and fake, like I don’t come from anywhere.” The amorality of his job, which sees him firing workers from struggling companies, chafes at his conscience.
Then, 9/11: “In the moment, I should have felt sorrow,” he says, in the film’s most controversial moment. “But all I felt was awe . . . [and] a split second of pleasure at arrogance brought low.”
His inner conflict increases as he’s infuriatingly racially profiled in the days and weeks following the attack, but something about this complex, brilliant young man’s “congealing anger” rings false.
Skipping between Changez’s story and the present — in which riots loom in Lahore as Lincoln attempts to ascertain whether Changez and his activist students are connected to the abduction — the plot becomes increasingly incomprehensible.
Based on the novel by Mohsin Hamid, Nair’s film is gorgeous to look at and listen to; its arresting soundtrack features Pakistani music both new and old. Its examination of the struggle for identity and meaning, and conflicting cultural values, is admirable.
But like many real-world attempts to get at the “why” behind a sudden shift to extremism, it comes up rather short.