THE STORY – Cultures collide when an introverted doctor brings his white boyfriend home to meet his traditional East Indian family.
THE CAST – Karan Soni, Jonathan Groff & Sunita Mani
THE TEAM – Roshan Sethi (Director), Eric Randall & Madhuri Shekar (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 96 Minutes
These days, it’s not enough to make a simple romantic comedy with no other grand thematic factors at play. Like many out there, the genre has seen its fair share of derivative takes, so it becomes necessary to craft a more unique vantage point when dealing with the universal subject of love. This isn’t a bad thing, as it allows for new voices and fresh perspectives to give their own commentary on relatable topics. However, there comes a point when innovation can only last for so long, and what felt like a novel approach has itself become stale and pedestrian. “A Nice Indian Boy” lays the tracks to tackle this genre through a cultural lens unfamiliar to a broad audience while relying on tropes that make the exercise tedious. As an exploration of complicated family dynamics attempting to confront mature emotions, it finds much more success.
The central figure of this tale is Naveen Gavaskar (Karan Soni), a mild-mannered doctor who yearns to find the love of his life. It’s a difficult pursuit in the face of a demanding family. His boisterous mother (Zarna Garg) can’t help but continue to prod into his life, and his soft-spoken father (Harish Patel) has a somber aura of judgment that’s difficult to penetrate. He also can’t escape the dramatics of his sister, Arundhathi (Sunita Mani), who seems to drive most of his family’s attention. It seems his fate to drift through life listlessly, that is, until he crosses paths with the handsome and charming Jay Kurundkar (Jonathan Groff). Obviously, Jay’s name seems at odds with his whiteness, but his adoption by Indian parents has created a close kinship with that culture. As their courtship grows more intense, so do Naveen’s anxieties about explaining his new relationship to his parents. Once the two become engaged, so begins the real turmoil of how to blend the two most important factions of his life in a way that won’t jeopardize the relationships he’s built on either side.
When viewed strictly from the side of exploring this romance, despite the elements inserted here to make it a singular experience, most of what’s presented is actually fairly mundane. The first interaction between Naveen and Jay is at the Hindu temple, where an initial curiosity blossoms to observe a white man in this space, which fuels the attraction. But from that point, their dynamic follows a familiar pattern: the introvert who has closed himself off to emotions and the more dramatic extrovert have a battle with their personalities until common ground is eventually met and their love solidifies their perseverance. Eric Randall’s script, adapted from the play by Madhuri Shekar, depicts this relationship within the confines of well-worn territory. The meet-cute, the falling out, and the inevitable reconciliation are expected, but more importantly, they aren’t delivered with any novelty either. Jay’s biography is only a cosmetic detail that doesn’t hide the conventional foundation of their dynamic, and Roshan Sethi’s direction of this material is flat and unextraordinary. The comedic beats the editing attempts to craft are just repetitive variations of the awkward social situations that are pervasive in this genre and leave the pacing to become tedious.
However, most of these determinants concern the central love story, which for a romantic comedy, would seem the most damning. Yet, a much more fascinating narrative comes to light when the focus shifts from that dynamic to Naveen’s family. Instead of dwelling on a banal love story built off of serviceable chemistry at best, this familial structure has a more nuanced conversation. There is not the cliche of conservative parents who do not support their gay child. Naveen is out but feels an emotional distance. His mother’s support comes with a fear of not being a part of his life, and she challenges him on the strain he himself is causing others. His father doesn’t curse his son’s sexuality but instead recognizes a generational divide with differing ideals that lives with a subtle unease that must be conquered. Even the sister is going through her own troubles with a failing marriage and what it means to not live up to the ideal that’s been placed upon you. These topics are much more fascinating than the romantic storyline because here is where something new is truly felt. There is both an openness and isolation with these feelings that each participant is tackling, making a more complex portrait to be created. It’s a curious sentiment that the romance is a romantic comedy is the weaker aspect, but the family drama is much more engrossing and leaves room for more intriguing character perspectives.
Soni ends up being a wonderful anchor for the film. His performance isn’t one that ever goes in for big displays, which is a perfect fit for the character. He feels naturally connected to a persona that feels emotions deeply but has difficulty showcasing them. His befuddled awkwardness is often endearing, and when called upon to deliver to express that inner conflict, his portrayal is moving. He ends up being much more effective than Groff, a talented and charming performer of his own right who can’t ever quite bring Jay to life beyond the concept. Part of this is the script’s failure to define the character beyond his biographical quirk, but Groff doesn’t particularly make him all that singular, either. However, it is funny to imagine that the character’s proclivity to song is more of a characteristic tailored to the actor. Again, the ensemble in the family makes a stronger impression. Garg brings a warm presence, humorous in the way all doting but oblivious mothers can be, but maintains a tenacity that is sincerely felt. The same is said for Mani, who brings her own compelling screen presence in scenes that require fiery retorts and vulnerable revelations. Patel is by far delivering the best performance. His quiet demeanor only telegraphs the internalized struggle, one that never plays into stereotypes. He exudes such soulful aching, quietly suffering within a family he’s in danger of losing while also trying to understand the paths that can bring them closer. On the surface, it’s an archetype that’s been seen before, but the execution of the character is what makes his performance all the more captivating.
There’s a strange dichotomy at the heart of “A Nice Indian Boy.” It often feels like a film fighting with itself between wanting to bring a new viewpoint to this arena and still packaging a common narrative that only seems different on the surface. In that regard, there’s not much to the very compelling romance, with those characterizations being bland and the eventual arcs so easily recognizable. It’s the other side of this tale that is way more enthralling. Exploring the tricking relationships within a family with complicated levels of angst and acceptance turns out to be a much more fulfilling endeavor. This is where the story is richer, the characters are stronger, and the emotional roadmap is more invigorating to explore. As a whole, the film struggles to be consistently engaging, but what is born out of the exploration of acceptance within this family becomes a more provocative enterprise.
