In the Name of God was heralded by some critics as one of the most influential, groundbreaking Pakistani films of all time. Now I’m no expert on Pakistani films, but if this is a barometer of their cinematic excellence, it doesn’t look very hopeful.
The story follows two musical brothers, Sarmad and Mansour, who live in Lahore, Pakistan. Sarmad, however, becomes indoctrinated by his local Sheikh, and it is not long before he is removing all paintings in his family home and refusing to practice music with his brother.
On the other side of the world, in England, their Casanova uncle – the hypercritical prototype if there ever was one – is trying to pressure his daughter, the stunning Mary (played by Pakistani model Iman Ali), into marrying within the Muslim faith. Seeing that she is resolved to marry the blonde-locked Dave, father takes daughter to Pakistan for a “final visit ostensibly to reconcile himself with his estranged brother. His motives turn out to be far more sinister, and he promises his brother that Mary will remain in Pakistan, either in marriage or in a grave, rather than marry an infidel.
After his brother refuses to play a part in this harebrain scheme, Mary father takes her to the distant wiles of Waziristan to be married by force to her fundamentalist cousin.
Meanwhile, Mansoor, the elder “Westernized brother, moves to the US to study music in Chicago (totally oblivious of his cousin’s fate, and without a second thought to his brainwashed brother). He falls in love with a dizzy blonde who has never heard of Pakistan before. Of course this is natural, we must agree as an audience, as all Americans are stupid.
Things take a turn for the worst for Mansour when a bunch of suicide bombers fly a plane into the twin towers. Mansour soon finds himself in a prison cell, being tortured by a very overweight American and a hard-faced CIA agent that was the reincarnation of a Scooby Doo villain. Again this is natural, as all Americans are fat and evil.
And that was when I couldn’t stand it any more, and breaking film reviewer etiquette, walked out. If those evil Americans were struggling to come up with torture methods for Mansoor, may I suggest installing a home cinema in his cell, and showing “In the Name of god on repeat?
The acting was excruciatingly poor. Iman Ali, model and “actress, proved where her talents lie, and it definitely isn’t on the screen or stage. Shan (playing Mansoor), son of famous director Riaz Shahid and iconic Pakistani actress Neelo, is the product of nepotism at its worst. His didactic and patronizing soliloquies, most of them starting with “in my country… were delivered monotone, mono-pace and, judging by the thought that went into them, could have been monosyllabic.
I would love to know where they got their English actors from. Dave looked and spoke like a 1980s’ children’s television presenter, and the lawyer had obviously taken his inspiration from Mr Warburton, my fourth grade geography teacher.
But the script couldn’t have helped, neither could the plot. It would be wrong to call it unnatural; it was unrealistic veering on the ridiculous. Now I’m not claiming the issues thrown up in the film are fantasy, but what the film has done is criminal. Its treatment of forced marriage, rape, fundamentalism, torture is heavy-handed and insensitive. We are given no background as to why Sarmad might turn to religion and abandon an auspicious career in music, making his sudden change of character unbelievable. Nor is Mary’s father offered any psychological depth. He is Westernized, has married outside his faith before, to all intents and purposes seems a loving, open-minded father, but is prepared to leave his daughter to be raped in some tribal slum.
“In the Name of God is an epic waste of time and an insult to cinema, not to mention the audience. At a hefty three hours long, the plot is slow, ponderous, self satisfied, and complete with stick on beards for every religious male character. If you fancy a bit of festive pantomime, I might say take the kids, but if it’s intelligent cinema you are after, don’t waste your time. te your time.
