BLINDED BY THE LIGHT (2019) FILM REVIEW

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12A, 130 Mins

A "Springtastic" mix of schmaltz and grit.

Following your dreams against your family's wishes is a familiar concept in the films of Gurinder Chadha who has a knack for grinding gritty social commentary into a meaty mainstream meal. In 'Bend it Like Beckham' (2002), Parminder Nagra's love of football showed sexism from her Sikh parents the red card while Aishwarya Rai spiced up the stigma of interracial relationships in 'Bride and Prejudice' (2004).

After a foray into period drama with 'Viceroy's House' (2017), 'Blinded by the Light' returns to the fractured relationship between an artistic youth and his conservative parents that defined Chadha's earlier work. This artistic youth is Javed (Viveik Kalra). A 16 year old screen interpretation of British journalist Safraz Manzoor (who co-wrote the script with Chadha regular Paul Mayeda Berges), Javed is a working-class British Pakistani Muslim teen whose on-the-doll father Malik (Kulvinder Ghir) wants him to pursue the standard unviersity route into the professional sector. Yet Javed dreams of becoming a world famous writer with his passion for poetry mainfesting itself as anguished responses to rampant racism received by Neo-Nazi thugs that populate 1987 Luton.

Escapism arrives via a cassette player from best mate Roops (Aaron Phugara) who introduces him to the music of Bruce Springsteen. As blue collar anthems screech from his headphones, inspiration oozes into Javed's heart while he woos the lovely Eliza (Nell Williams).

From the populist publicity campaign, its easy to assume audiences are in for an upbeat crowdpleaser free of blood, sweat and tears. That's certainly the impression New York Post film critic Johnny Oleksinski conveyed when he loudly and ludicrously heralded the film "feelgood movie of the year". A statement 'Blinded by the Light's break-nose depiction of racially-motivated violence silences with thunderous rage.

There's an uncompromisingly raw authenticity about the hate crime-riddled anarchy of Chadha's gravelly, grey-skied vision of 80s Britain; redolent of the racial horrors of 'Romper Stomper' (1992). Words such as "paki" and scenes of face spitting have rarely been captured with such upsetting realism that pushes the boundaries of the film's universal viewing-enabling 12A certificate. And yet - while its incendiary portrait of white skinhead culture forms its brutal crust - the film's soft centre lies in its encapsulation of implicit bias.

Viveik Kalra is terrific in the central role; perfecting a sublime blend of coming-of-age innocence and adolescent angst. However the star of the show is Kulvinder Ghir who brings a sombre weight to racist dad Malik. Breaking cinema's tendency to portray racism as a one-sided coin, Chadha is no more sympathetic towards Ghir's Pakistani patriarch than she is towards the brutes who - in one eye-watering scene - head-butt him in the face during an NF march turned nasty.

Malik may not be an overt racist in the way of those behind the Stephen Lawrence case; rather a man possesed by implicit bias that refuses to allow his son to integrate into British culture as he believes it is below him.
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Given the thematic darkness of its subject matter, 'Blinded by the Light' revels in accessibility. Following 'Rocketman's template of pitching tracks to reflect mood as opposed to era or timeline, there's a touch of fabulism in its jukebox selection of Sprigsteen classics that's lyrics crop up karaoke-style as if to invite audiences to sing-a-long as stars rhapsodically break into musical numbers.

These spectacular song n' dance sequences are directed with heaps of ecstatic energy that builds towards a climax tittering on the brink of calculating schmaltz, but earns the right to do so thanks to the film's bravery for tackling taboo subjects with such gusto.

'Blinded by the Light' may not be "feelgood" fare, but ultimately this turns out to be its greatest triumph. A wholly digestable fable unfazed by a few shades of grey.
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