Then the previews began, which is always sort of a crapshoot—I’m
never sure what I will be subjected to in previews. There were four previews before
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, and I want to see all of them. The Words, in which an author’s fiction
is somehow intruding on reality, Hyde
Park on the Hudson, which features Bill Murray as FDR and Laura Linney as
something mysteriously between a head maid and a mistress, Beasts of the Southern Wild (okay, this one I’m a little uncertain
about) some sort of sci-fi apocalyptic story about a young child in Louisiana
deltas, seems to involve a Katrina-style hurricane and some aurochs, an ancient
ox-type creature which (I happen to know from my Bible editing gigs) are
translated in the King James Bible as unicorns. And Ruby Sparks, which looks like the plot of the aforementioned The Words combined with the quirkier
style of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless
Mind—a young author creates a female character who comes to life.
What did all this teach me? It seems that I am squarely in
the demographic of a movie aimed at the AARP audience (no offense to the many
of my friends who are already there!). Look what a few good “Masterpiece
Theater” miniseries will do to you. My advice: stay away from PBS. It ages you.
Watch Step Up 17 instead, or Paranormal Activity 35, because if you
watch too much Downton Abbey or Bleak House, you are likely to end up
like me. Previews aimed at senior citizens are hitting my sweet spot.
Back to the movie. As I expected, there are lots of
predictable things about the story. But that’s not what I was there for. I was
there for the actors.
The premise is that the Marigold Hotel is advertised as a
newly renovated luxury hotel for seniors citizens, but the renovations have not
yet been completed. Most of the new arrivals take this remarkably well after
the first moments of disbelief. In my own experience, people expecting luxury
are not easily mollified when introduced to something lesser. But this is fantasy.
Judi Dench is Evelyn,
a luminous as a widow who is looking to make a new life for herself. Bill Nighy
and Penelope Wilton are Douglas and Jean Ainslie, a long-married couple who
can’t afford the kind of retirement they want in England. Tom Wilkinson is
Graham, a gay man who grew up in India and spent the rest of his life in
England wondering about the people he left behind. Madge (Celia Imrie) is on
the hunt for her next, preferably rich, husband. Ronald Pickup plays Norman, a
lecherous man who is looking to ease his loneliness, if only for one night. And
Maggie Smith plays, Muriel, a bitter and racist woman who needs a hip
replacement and can get it more quickly and easily in India. That’s your
ensemble cast, an aging version of New
Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day,
or yes, even Love Actually.
Tom Wilkinson is wonderful in his role. Loved him. His
character is the best at letting us see India as a place of its own, with pros
and cons, without all the drama of the new traveler. Bill Nighy’s Douglas is loveable,
if not unique, as a husband who has disappointed his wife but is finding new
energy from the change of setting. Penelope Wilton (Matthew Crawley’s mother on
Downton), on the other hand, has a thankless role as his resentful and
sanitation-obsessed wife who can’t adjust to their new life. It doesn’t matter
how well she acts it, the part has nothing to empathize with. Maggie Smith
fares better, though I would have liked to see more of her character’s
development. Madge and Norman are mostly there for comic relief and for
rounding out the cast, but they are not terribly likeable either. Thankfully
they are also forgettable.
For a travel addict such as myself, there are parts of this
movie that function as something like a drug fix. I am in the early stages of
planning my India itinerary as I type, though I wish that the movie showed us
more. The fantasy aspect of the film shows through, though, in the quick
reference to extra trips to the bathroom after another exotic meal. Much as I
want to see all of the world, two rounds with the vicious amoeba were enough to
convince me that caution with food is not so overrated, and germophobia is the
one way I could relate to the character of Jean Ainslie.
Dev Patel, who played the young man in Slumdog Millionaire, plays the manager of the hotel. Sometimes the
gestures and exasperation are just more caricature; other times he is allowed
to play the character as a real human being struggling to overcome his life’s
obstacles.
I recently heard a podcast that talked about how older
people are portrayed in the media. Elderly characters are usually a farce, a
ridiculous caricature. Some of these characters rise above that, nicely so.
Some do not. I will say, though, that the people who shared the theater with me
that day seemed to really like the movie. As the credits rolled, one woman said
“Finally, something for us.”
This movie is basically fluff, albeit fluff full of my
favorite British actors. There is a little too much sadness to make it complete
fluff, and a little too much slapstick to make it truly resonate. While I
enjoyed the time in the theater, I left wishing for something more satisfying,
and frankly, more hopeful for my future.
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