The film kicks off with the classic “janab,” just to make it crystal clear that yes, we’re in the territory of Muslim characters. Because in Bollywood’s world, being Muslim equals being fluent in shayarana Urdu (poetic Urdu). Cue my brain rolling its eyes and deducting points right off the bat. If I had a pound for every time a Bollywood film transported Muslims from the Mughal-e-Azam era to chat as if they’re still sipping chai in 1890s Lucknow, I’d be swimming in gold coins by now.
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The UK Asian Film Festival’s opening showcase marked the international premiere of “Minimum” at the BFI IMAX, setting the stage for an exploration of a series of films over the next 10 days. Settling into my plush reclining chair, I indulge in a sip of cardamom-fused masala chai. The BFI IMAX on London’s Southbank will never not be an impressive venue and I hope to be thoroughly entertained.
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The film opens with the lead protagonist, Fauzia (Rumana Molla) tying the knot with Ali (Namit Das) over a video call. Her haqmeher, a customary monetary gift in Islamic marriages, stands at Rs. 11,600 (£111). Now, I’m no finance expert, but in today’s wild global economy, that might barely cover a week’s petrol. Moreover, the groom remains veiled throughout, while his interactions are frequently interrupted by his domineering mother, Rukhsana (Geetanjali Kulkarni).
We soon find out that the film, set in Belgium, revolves around a transactional marriage. It tracks the story of Fauzia as a newly-wed immigrant trapped at home with her controlling mother-in-law.
The situation takes a sudden turn for the worse as Fauzia discovers that the man she married has intellectual disabilities, and the photograph she received of her supposed husband was that of a different person.
Fauzia then attempts to confide in her parents, who dismiss her worries, leading her to the startling realisation that they were already aware and had struck a deal with her mother-in-law: her sponsorship to Belgium in exchange for her taking care of Ali.
All factors contribute to pushing her towards the brink of escape…except for her French tutor, Laurie (Saba Azad), whom she eventually befriends.
The performances are outstanding across the board. Molla plays Fauzia with a natural finesse, while Azad shines as Laurie. She not only looks and dresses the part, but is very convincingly Belgian with her flawless French fluency. Das is equally good as Ali.
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But setting aside the performances, how much longer will South Asian films and TV shows continue to depict regressive tropes, particularly those involving Muslims, potentially casting them in a negative light?
What could motivate a seemingly well-educated woman like Fauzia, who claims to have excelled in school and learned French through YouTube before moving to Belgium, to agree to marry a man she has never met in person? It begs the question: Why wasn’t there more context provided for this storyline? The film simply begins with her being married off to a man she has only spoken to over the phone, leaving viewers without any background information.
Yes, it’s of the utmost importance to acknowledge that such situations do occur, where women sometimes lack control over their lives. It’s crucial that we share these stories. However, there has already been an overabundance of narratives on these topics. It’s now time to explore the other side, where women assert control over their lives from the outset, breaking free from ongoing misery and unsupportive family dynamics.
This leads me to the delicate subject of Islamic marriage practices. According to Islamic law, the marriage contract, known as Nikah, is a solemn agreement between a man and a woman, usually formalised in the presence of witnesses to ensure its legal validity.
In many Islamic sects, conducting a marriage contract over the phone without physical witnesses may be regarded as invalid, as they consider it to play a pivotal role in ensuring the proper execution of marriage and confirming that both parties enter into the agreement voluntarily and with clear understanding.
In many Islamic sects, marriages via video calls may also be prohibited to prevent the possibility of one party pretending to be someone else. At a certain point in the film, Fauzia even recalls moments when her mother-in-law guided Ali’s hand to sign documents due to his incapacity, and instructed him to repeat “qubool hai” (I do) after her. Why then, at the time, does she fail to see this as a significant red flag?
“Minimum’s” portrayal of a sensitive matter without thorough research is irresponsible, mistakenly assuming it to be a widespread Muslim practice.
Furthermore, when Fauzia confides in her parents and expresses her desire to return to India, her father instructs her not to come back home, perpetuating the regressive mindset of “it’s better to be dead than divorced.”
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Eventually, after a particularly uneventful evening marked by substantial recreational drug use, Fauzia decides to leave and seek refuge with Laurie. Disappointingly, Laurie doesn’t help her, citing it as “not a good time,” and neglects to offer even a comforting cup of tea. Given their supposed close friendship, why would she allow her distressed friend to wander alone in a strange city in the middle of the night?
In time, Fauzia lands a job at a South Asian food shop owned by Sukhdeep Singh (Naseeruddin Shah) and begins to rebuild her life. Meanwhile, she maintains contact with Ali through online games and remains close with Laurie, who continues to teach her French. Ultimately, Fauzia finds her strength and stability in her new surroundings, gradually adapting to life in Belgium.
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“Minimum” is marketed as an immigrant experience and a universal human story, among other themes. But it ultimately falls short of these labels. Instead, it primarily tells the story of a Muslim girl navigating life in a foreign land following a sham marriage and regressive treatment.
This inadvertently perpetuates the stereotype that Muslim customs are outdated. Why couldn’t they depict a girl without emphasising her religion so prominently? Furthermore, Fauzia is forced to become an immigrant after her parents unequivocally forbid her from returning to India, stating, “kuch bhi hojaye, ghar waapis mut aana (no matter what happens, don’t come home)”.
The true immigrant experience involves individuals voluntarily moving to seek a better life, only to discover that the grass may not always be greener on the other side. Fauzia, however, was not offered that choice.
The film may be well-intentioned in emphasising the themes of identity, friendship and you-can’t-judge-a-book-by-its-cover, but it doesn’t fully succeed. While there are some good dialogues and genuine laugh out loud moments, I am tired of the recurring trope of damsels in distress who only find empowerment after enduring prolonged suffering. Why can’t we have a broader range of film genres that move beyond narratives centred on marriage and mistreatment of women? For those interested, “Minimum” is worth watching primarily for its performances rather than its storyline.
