Film review: West is West (15)

On general release

Tony Earnhsaw***

Ayub Khan-Din’s screenplay – another autobiographical tale, like East is East before it – takes George Khan (the majestic Om Puri) from his adopted home of Salford back to the dirt-poor village in Pakistan where, 30 years before, he deserted his wife and family. In the years since he’s made a new life in England with a second Mrs Khan (Linda Bassett, one of the few returning stars from the original film) and sired a new family. So it’s natural for wife number one to be more than a little perplexed when Jahangir, aka George, turns up with stroppy teenage son Sajid in tow.

The youngest child, Sajid fails to fit in at school or at home. He’s an outsider: a foul-mouthed wannabe delinquent with a chip on his shoulder. Taking him to the old country will, believes George, straighten the boy out. But George reckons without having to manhandle the baggage of his past. Sajid finds himself caught up in brother Maneer’s attempts to find a bride. His mother and her blowsy pal arrive from England. George faces his demons in the form of his still devastated first wife – a magnificent performance by Ila Arun as sad-eyed Basheera. Everything explodes.

With the focus firmly on George and Sajid (Bradford-born Aqib Khan in his debut), West is West separates itself from the events of East is East. This is a voyage of revelation for a self-absorbed, selfish and petulant man who, through his pettiness and small-minded approach to life, has made himself a figure of ridicule to not just one family, but to two. By clinging to his past George has never assimilated into English culture. But, returning to Pakistan, he finds he has little connection to the world he abandoned all those years before.

Thus George finds he has no roots. Sajid is his distorted mirror image – a child with no clear view of who he is or his place in the world.

Fans of East is East will find West is West to be a very different film. It lacks the sometimes bawdy humour of the first film and the backdrop will be mightily unfamiliar to the (white) British audiences who flock to it.

It’s a more contemplative film in which a father and son each reach an epiphany. For George it’s heartrending and painful. For Sajid it’s about finding out who he is and not feeling guilty about it. All in all, it’s a thoughtful companion piece and augurs well for a third helping, due soon.