“The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” is so very promising on paper with its exotic location, best cast imaginable and director of high pedigree.
The characters are as disparate as their aspirations and reasons for ending up at the ramshackle “best exotic marigold hotel for the aged and beautiful” in Jaipur, India. To a man, and woman, each British visitor was expecting quite a bit more from the Indian retirement home as advertised in a glossy and definitely airbrushed brochure that somehow had landed propitiously in their possession. To Sonny Kapoor (Dev Patel), resident manager and part owner, his hotel is a thing of beauty, or at least it will be if he can get an infusion of cash. In the meantime, most of the rooms are lacking doors, the faucets leak and the telephones don’t work. Still, as he is wont to say, it will all work out in the end and if it hasn’t yet worked out, then it’s not yet the end.
The aged and virulently racist Muriel (Maggie Smith) is there for an outsourced hip replacement and recuperation; Evelyn (Judi Dench), recently widowed and cash strapped, wants a start at an independent life, while strangers Norman (Ronald Pickup) and Madge (Celia Imrie) are in need of new partners and/or adventures (and definitely not with each other). Judge Graham (Tom Wilkinson) is searching for a part of his youth, the part that was lost in India; and Douglas and Jean (Bill Nighy and Penelope Wilton) no longer have the means to retire elsewhere.
It is always a pleasure to watch such actors, but the overall feeling of disappointment is heightened when, early on, it is apparent that storylines won’t gel and characterization will remain shallow. Certainly there are exceptions. Tom Wilkinson is an aching pleasure to watch as his upper class character develops before our eyes as a man tormented by a past secret and a humanity and curiosity that leads others. Judi Dench knows just how to find the fear and excitement in a woman stepping out of the shadow of a now-dead husband who, in sheltering her from his problems, left her ill equipped to deal with life. Every wrinkle on that beautiful face expresses curiosity and apprehension. Neither she nor Wilkinson relies on the inadequate script to determine their characters; they understand the setup and wordlessly let us in on their anguish. Bill Nighy comes close to creating a three dimensional character by conveying, again wordlessly, the regret he feels for letting his wife down and his inability at being able to pull her with him into this new life.
If there is a theme here, it is that the script by Ol Parker has let everyone down. This does not let the director off the hook because, dialogue not withstanding, he allowed Penelope Wilton, a grand actress, to be a one dimensional shrew without communicating any subtle underlying anxiety or warmth. The always interesting Maggie Smith was allowed to vamp as a hardcore, servant-class racist whose transformation into understanding and enlightened woman of the world is too rapid and without experiential motivation.
In a parallel storyline, Sonny (Dev Patel) is in love with a girl deemed unfit by his overbearing mother. Growing and deepening as an adult capable of overcoming the handicap of being the least accomplished in a highly successful family, Patel is, perhaps, the most fully developed character in the film, all the while being one of the most annoying.
It may not sound so bad, but it sort of is. The various stories never quite mesh, the characters don’t develop into one another or even unto themselves and the whole feels like an episode of “The Love Boat” or, if you’re even older, “Love American Style” because the interactions and interrelations seem artificial and forced. Generously, as one person mentioned, “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” had too many stories to tell for one film and should have, much like “Tales from the City,” been made as a mini-series for Masterpiece Theater. With more time to explore both the country and the characters at an unhurried pace, we might have come to view this as something more than an acting showcase.
Hopes were so high. It’s not that they were dashed and smashed, it’s just that they wilted like a marigold in the sun. As Sonny so often said, “Everything will be all right in the end. So if it is not all right, it is not yet the end.” But sometimes, it isn’t all right at the end.
Opening May 4 at the Landmark Theatre and Hollywood ArcLight.
Neely also writes a blog about writers in television and film at www.nomeanerplace.com ER
