A fish-out-of-the-water tale retold

Film review: The Guru

If you’re looking for light, frothy entertainment, go catch The Guru at the Ayala Artfilm. Take an Indian boy who is more into Grease than the Bollywood films his country is known for, transport him years later to New York, and watch this ‘fish out of water’ tale unfold. It’s the classic pursuit of the American Dream, this time out, seasoned in curry and spices.

Ramu Gupta (Jimi Mistry) is a Western dance instructor in India. When a friend working in New York promises him a cushy life, Ramu leaves home and family, hoping to make it in the Big Apple as an actor. The ‘cushy life’ turns out to be working in a Lower East side Indian restaurant, and the only acting he snags is in a low-end adult film. But thanks to a ditzy socialite (Marisa Tomei) who introduces him to ‘sexually dysfunctional Manhattan’ and an idealistic adult film female lead (Heather Graham) whose acting tips Ramu turns into sexual tantras – Ramu becomes the toast of the town, as a Sex Guru.

It’s New Age spirituality turned on its self indulgent head – as the whole trend of self-help is tweaked on the nose. Just how desperate and gullible these purveyors of the new faith are, is given a right roasting. But unfortunately, this theme is never really played up; the film has much lighter aspirations, and is played out more for good-hearted laughs and cross-cultural banter.

Highlights of the film are the Bollywood musical numbers staged in New York brownstones and with Manhattan high society characters. At times, you almost wish there were more of these musical breaks, as too much of what goes on in between is done with too light a touch. If this is India’s big break with Hollywood, one wonders whether the clichés that fly and the shallow script will do anything for breaking the stereotype. Then again, it will find a wider audience than something like American Adobo or Batang West Side, so who’s to say who’s wiser?

For classic and sustained humor, I’d still go for The Party with Peter Sellars, where you had an Indian crash a Los Angeles Hollywood party. At least in that film, you weren’t constantly reminded about how it was the mere ‘Indian-ess’ of the character that was evincing the laughter.

Jimi Mistry makes the most of this Hollywood ‘break’; he’s all soulful Indian eyes and earnest "man with a good soul, forced into situations where he dupes the public." Marisa Tomei has the most evolved character; while Heather Graham is pretty to look at – she plays porn star, "fake" schoolteacher, bride and Hindi Princess, with one expression.

Me? I left the theater with one burning thought. If one learns life’s lessons from a guru, is it coincidence that our Filipino word for teacher is guro? Yup, that’s how much of the film I was bringing with me. It’s cotton candy for the brain, but there are nights when cotton candy does hit the spot.