paul2001sw-1 Writer Hanif Kureshi has long been interested in the clash between Western decadence and fanatical Islam which, perceptively, he sees as a war that occurs not between civilisations but within individuals or, as in this film based on one of his books, families. In exploring the conflict between a secularised immigrant and his devout son, the film looks in all the right places, and is full of fine little cameo performances; but I didn't find it a wholly satisfactory affair. Om Puri's character (the father) is needed to hold the story together, but the part feels more like just one more cameo, albeit extended: it's a nicely drawn portrait of a man, but also a shallow one. Also, the film seems dated by its origins pre-dating 9/11. Kureshi refers back, albeit obliquely, to the Salman Rushie affair that first made political Islam an issue in the U.K.; subsequent terrorist atrocities have made the broad subject of this movie more pertinent, but its details less so. Perhaps the real problem is that we never really get to understand the son, who remains a mystery to us as much as he is to his father: an examination of the psychology of fanaticism, or (to cast it in a kinder light) simply that of belief, is strangely absent from the film.

gmc75 After hearing about the terrible London blasts, which happened just a few days ago, the first thing which came to my mind was this movie. I watched a few years ago and loved it. Doubtless, I don't agree with B24: this is not a comedy at all, and it's nothing to share with "East is East". This movie is extremely forward-looking, not only because it – somehow – anticipated the "Clash of Civilization", but also because it gives you an extremely good description of all the difficulties that the first generation of Western-born people have to face.The character has to face reality: he is sure that he will never be able to be a real British (Western) citizen: despite his father's efforts and open-mind, the guy is too young to realize that if you don't accept yourself first, you will hardly find out people ready to welcome you. This is why he finds it more convenient (and much easier) to be surrounded by other Pakistani people. Among all the characters, the portrait of the "Imam" is very good: he is shown as an hypocritical man, always ready to blame the West, but still living in the UK, where he can get anything he wants: women, sex, movies… all those same things that – he says – are supposed to represent our flaws. But perhaps these people must forget something: despite their words, we're not afraid!

herbqedi My Son The Fanatic demands repeated viewings for its appreciation. It is a dark comedy about an affable taxi driver in the throes of an alcoholic depression, and the eventual disintegration of his family unit.It starts off making you think that this is going to be a comedy about a social-ladder-climbing father undermined by his son's discovery and subsequent rapture of Islamic fundamentalism. When re-viewing the consistency of the tones and hues, it seems that most scenes are being seen through the main character's (Parvez) eyes. And he turns out to be the most unreliable of narrators -- a literary device difficult to translate into film. In most of the darker and smoky hues, Parvez seems to be a warm, loving, tolerant, supportive, and protective soul. In the lighter-toned scenes, we learn that Parvez is actually is clueless to who he is and how he is perceived. The fact is that he is a pathetic failure as a husband, father, and "career" man -- a 25-year taxi driver in a poor town in England (Does anyone know what city/town this is supposed to be? It was unclear to me.) where the cab drivers serve as a conduit between prostitutes and their clients. Throughout the movie, he sinks further into the throes of an alcoholic depression. He is an affable and engaging drunk, but a drunk nonetheless. His son's rejection of his depressed and drunken father manifests itself in turning to Islamic Fundamentalism. His wife tries to awaken him as to what is going on, but to no avail. Pervez's sodden eyes sees life only in his own terms. Pervez sees the holy man as a fraud, and thus invents a scene in his mind that everyone else denies, played in near-total darkness, where the holy man asks him for immigration help from his (actually non-existent) political connections with the Fingerhuts, who despise him.Someone else correctly pointed out that the son's adulation of Ayatollah Khomeni is inconsistent with the Pakistani fundamentalist sects that populate Karachi. This is the one well-lit scene where falsehood prevails, but I think that was just a fact-checking error.As he sinks deeper, Pervez conjures up a loving relationship with his favorite whore, the reality of which is depicted in the final scenes as the credits roll.The movie was never really about his son at all. His life was never really about the love he invested in his family at all. It is about a disintegration of a once-noble soul due to depression and alcoholism, and how the world looks through his forgiving eyes.This is a fascinating study in duality, but you need to watch it twice to see it that way. Bravura performances by Puri, the actress who played the wife, and Griffiths as the multi-wigged prostitute are a joy to behold. There are slow and murky patches, but worth sticking with as a fascinating exploration into the culture clashes and reality blurring characteristic of alcoholic depression -- a disease with an acutely higher incidence in the UK among Asian immigrants.Well worth watching.

Shlomtzie It's a rare treat to see a film character of such complexity. His story, a love story, is as homely and real as a wound.Om Puri's character is not to be forgotten and Griffith gives the searingly intelligent performance I have come to expect of her. Kurtha, as the son, is very poor, his delivery stilted and amateurish, and an outdoorsy scene with the two lovers is cinematographically squandered; otherwise, nothing but raves for this one. Also takes the prize for sexiest and most heartbreaking love scene in movie history.