Yasmin is a low-key, sensitively handled examination of racial and religious prejudice filmed in Keighley. It is scripted by Keighley-born Simon Beaufoy, already the writer of successful Yorkshire-based films like The Full Monty (1997) and Blow Dry (2001) – here, Beaufoy is in (for him) uncommonly sombre frame of mind, exchanging his usual light- hearted comical style for something much 'heavier' and more serious. Yasmin focuses on the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, detailing how the atrocities affect – and irrevocably change – the lives of a Muslim community living in the north of England.
Yasmin (Archie Panjabi) leads a curious double life. She lives on a dead-end terraced street opposite her own father and brother, sharing her house – but not her bed – with a 'husband' named Faysal (Shahid Ahmed). Her marriage to Faysal is a sham, a mere gimmick, a union of convenience designed to get him approval for his full British passport. Every day, Yasmin heads off to work at a disability unit – stopping off en route to change out of her Muslim clothing and remove her wedding ring. At work, she is no longer the dutiful Muslim wife; instead she becomes a sassy, outgoing young woman with very 'Western' sensibilities of permissiveness. There is also a clear bond between Yasmin and her work colleague John (Steve Jackson). Things change in the aftermath of the September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre. As quickly as they embraced her as a friend, Yasmin's workmates suddenly treat her with mistrust, ignorance and dislike. Piece by piece, Yasmin is forced to confront her existence and make painful choices. Her impetuous younger brother Nasir (Syed Ahmed) vows to join the fight against the Western forces by going to Afghanistan to become a freedom fighter; her husband Faysal is indefinitely imprisoned as a potential terror suspect (despite there being no evidence); her father (Renu Setna) meanwhile tries desperately to encourage his family and neighbours not to retaliate as the cultural tensions between whites and Muslims threaten to boil over into violence.
Yasmin is a worthy film for sure, taking some topical themes in its stride. The performances are generally good, especially Setna as Yasmin's outspoken father and Panjabi in the title role. Less effective is Syed Ahmed as her brooding brother – it's not so much that he plays his role badly, more that it's a badly written part – the typical 'angry young man', a clichéd character in this type of film if ever there was one. The many different faces of cultural prejudice are handled pretty responsibly. The film doesn't whitewash its viewpoints like so many of these films do. Characters from both cultures are shown in positive and negative lights. More skilfully, the film remembers that real people aren't just one-dimensional caricatures – in real life, there are many shades of grey between 'prejudiced' and 'not-prejudiced', and there is often a lot of ambivalence about the way people from one culture feel about someone from another. Yasmin doesn't paint its characters in broad, simplistic strokes – it's more balanced than that. The biggest shortcoming with the film is that amid all its worthiness it occasionally ends up being a little dull too. It is never preachy thankfully, but there are patches where one finds one's mind wandering inattentively. These lulls are not frequent – and they never last long enough to ruin the film – but they are there nonetheless. Overall, Yasmin is a thoughtful look at race relationships, built around an event that shook the world and changed – perhaps irreversibly – the way that many people from different cultural backgrounds feel about each other.
Yasmin (Archie Panjabi) leads a curious double life. She lives on a dead-end terraced street opposite her own father and brother, sharing her house – but not her bed – with a 'husband' named Faysal (Shahid Ahmed). Her marriage to Faysal is a sham, a mere gimmick, a union of convenience designed to get him approval for his full British passport. Every day, Yasmin heads off to work at a disability unit – stopping off en route to change out of her Muslim clothing and remove her wedding ring. At work, she is no longer the dutiful Muslim wife; instead she becomes a sassy, outgoing young woman with very 'Western' sensibilities of permissiveness. There is also a clear bond between Yasmin and her work colleague John (Steve Jackson). Things change in the aftermath of the September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre. As quickly as they embraced her as a friend, Yasmin's workmates suddenly treat her with mistrust, ignorance and dislike. Piece by piece, Yasmin is forced to confront her existence and make painful choices. Her impetuous younger brother Nasir (Syed Ahmed) vows to join the fight against the Western forces by going to Afghanistan to become a freedom fighter; her husband Faysal is indefinitely imprisoned as a potential terror suspect (despite there being no evidence); her father (Renu Setna) meanwhile tries desperately to encourage his family and neighbours not to retaliate as the cultural tensions between whites and Muslims threaten to boil over into violence.
Yasmin is a worthy film for sure, taking some topical themes in its stride. The performances are generally good, especially Setna as Yasmin's outspoken father and Panjabi in the title role. Less effective is Syed Ahmed as her brooding brother – it's not so much that he plays his role badly, more that it's a badly written part – the typical 'angry young man', a clichéd character in this type of film if ever there was one. The many different faces of cultural prejudice are handled pretty responsibly. The film doesn't whitewash its viewpoints like so many of these films do. Characters from both cultures are shown in positive and negative lights. More skilfully, the film remembers that real people aren't just one-dimensional caricatures – in real life, there are many shades of grey between 'prejudiced' and 'not-prejudiced', and there is often a lot of ambivalence about the way people from one culture feel about someone from another. Yasmin doesn't paint its characters in broad, simplistic strokes – it's more balanced than that. The biggest shortcoming with the film is that amid all its worthiness it occasionally ends up being a little dull too. It is never preachy thankfully, but there are patches where one finds one's mind wandering inattentively. These lulls are not frequent – and they never last long enough to ruin the film – but they are there nonetheless. Overall, Yasmin is a thoughtful look at race relationships, built around an event that shook the world and changed – perhaps irreversibly – the way that many people from different cultural backgrounds feel about each other.