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The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (John Madden, 2011)
The vignettes that introduce us to each character at the start
of this film suggest something darker than what actually follows. The
disappointment and resignation that the cast of elderly characters feels early
on evaporates almost immediately after they arrive at the dilapidated Jaipur
hotel that gives the film its title. The sweltering climate of India gives these
seniors’ golden years both a literal and metaphorical sheen, leading each to a
bout of unconvincing hand-wringing and an inevitable cathartic epiphany. This
structure is sound enough, I suppose, but it grows increasingly dull watching
one character after another assess their regrets and determine that the future
that lies ahead will be brighter. The simpleminded script here does not muster
the wisdom that one would expect, given its characters’ ages, but rather
dispenses with the same mindless pap that can be found in films for young
children. The Best Exotic
Marigold Hotel coasts with a middlebrow sensibility that takes few chances.
One character is revealed to be gay, and a low caste woman is shown to have a
life outside her job, in moments that are meant to surprise but reveal only how
safe the film is. Any hints of class conflict inevitably resolve into mutual
understanding, any fears of an uncertain future are assuaged fully, and the
frequent sex jokes are uniformly tame. The characterizations here range from
wistful (Tom Wilkinson) to one-note (Maggie Smith) to quietly inspiring (Judi
Dench), but Penelope Wilton, as the sourpuss among the group, takes top honors.
She is the only one who refuses to be taken in by the cheap exoticism and trite
affirmations that Hotel offers its
guests. 47 Jeremy Heilman 06.20.12 |
Featuring
an ensemble of elderly British screen actors and a script that works overtime to
give each actor at least one big scene,
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel inevitably has a few moments that manage to
lift off the ground, even if in the final tally it feels like a waste of talent.
Indeed, this multi-character piece probably owes more of its modest success to
its casting directors (Michelle Guish and Seher Latif) than to John Madden, the
director of the film itself. Madden, who has just delivered one of his most
controlled and exciting films to date with
The Debt, offers up a slack and
predictable feel-good product that fails to do much beyond unquestionably dole
out a series of wish-fulfillment scenarios to its cast of sad sacks. One can
only imagine what The Debt’s trio of
aging ex-assassins would make of Marigold
Hotel’s metaphorically impotent crew.