Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Aleem Khan
Starring: Joanna Scanlan, Nathalie Richard, Talid Ariss, Nasser Memarzia
Even though we are fully aware that it cannot and does not last forever,
this understanding does not prevent us from placing our every hope upon,
and basing a cultural belief system around, the redemptive promise of
love. Maybe the fragility of love, and the capricious customs of fate,
makes it so valuable. Even love which didn’t last is better than love
which never launched. After all, even when a relationship ends, either via
a break-up, or, in the case of Aleem Khan’s propitious debut
After Love, death, the memories of what was once shared abide, and are almost as
precious as the lived experience itself.
But what if those memories were tainted, if they were bogus, even? If
there was some information uncovered which shifted the entire relationship
into question? It would be devastating. This is what happens to Mary, a
recent widower who discovers that her deceased husband has for years been
putting one on some French woman across the channel during his work
commutes to Calais. You think you know someone, eh? Furthermore, the life
you thought you had, the trust you shared with someone, is suddenly
spurious (disclosure: Mary is played by god Joanna Scanlan, an
absolute favourite. I’d say I’ll try to retain a critical objectivity,
but, you know, it's Joanna Scanlan. Anyone can see how incredible she
always is).
Mary and Ahmed’s (Nasser Memarzia) love-worn marriage is
established in After Love’s opening sequences. We see the couple
bringing in the shopping, and hear the kettle whistling, in a comfortable
groove of mutuality. But then, in one of the film’s first examples of
life’s essential unfairness, Ahmed passes away as immediately as he does
peacefully in his cosy armchair (probably exhausted from all that
extra-curricular shagging), getting out easy and leaving Mary to discover
a message left on his phone which suggests the sly old dog was living a
double life à la Française...
Mary’s distinctive loneliness is visualised in a scene which depicts
Ahmed’s funeral. In a Muslim ceremony in which the community grieve, pray
and mourn together, Mary is centralised within the frame, her face a
picture of shock and alienation. Having converted to the Muslim faith as
part of her marriage to Ahmed, Mary wears a hijab and is a full
practitioner of the religion’s tenements. The film suggests, however, that
Mary is nonetheless bereft. She seems to have no real roots within the
community, and it is only her faith which she draws strength and comfort
from. After Love wears its association with Islam lightly,
however: this could be any faith, really, as what the film is interested
in is the unconditional (and disingenuous) nature of Mary and Ahmed’s
marriage (although the positive, matter of fact depiction of
multi-cultural Britain is always welcome).
Increasingly obsessed with the other woman, Mary tracks Geneviève (Nathalie Richard) down in France and fortuitously manages to inculcate herself as her
cleaner. Geneviève conforms to a Western hegemony of hotness (blonde,
slim) in a way that Mary doesn’t. She’s also stereotypically continental
in her outlook, and, crucially, not Muslim. And what’s more, as the
childless Mary commits to her one-woman
Parasite
tribute act, she discovers that Ahmed only went and had a kid with
Geneviève, too; a closeted teen called Solomon (Talid Ariss).
What ensues is a Kafka-esque, domestic styled nightmare in which Mary’s
memories of her marriage, and her very identity as a Muslim woman, are
challenged. Her loneliness abates somewhat, though, as she enjoys a
tentative bond with Solomon after happening upon him getting off with a
classmate, and also forges a cautious acquaintance with Geneviève
(although this is not absolute - Khan is far too astute an anthropologist
to allow the two women to be ‘friends’). It’s a zero-sum game though, with
Mary simply compelled to insinuate herself in the existence of this small
family through lack of knowing what else to do with the life which has
been taken away from her. It is only a matter of time before Geneviève
discovers the truth of this unusual British woman skulking around her
house...
The great Scanlan, of course, offers a tour de force of emotional
subtlety. She is both dignified and desperate, frightened and, at times,
even funny (perhaps one of the most gifted comic performers in the game,
the sight of her in a tabard just made me laugh - like, she had to go out
and get one of these surcoats in order to wholly authenticate the ruse.
Where would you shop to buy one?!). In one scene of astonishing intimacy,
Mary examines her body in a full-length mirror, looking at her corpulent
morphology with a male gaze; taking in the stretch lines and weight which
(perhaps, as she will never truly know) made Geneviève a more attractive
proposition. She strokes her breast in the same careful manner with which
you would an injured bird. Moments like this, raw miracles of visual
composition and bravura performance, are peppered throughout
After Love. A truly cinematic experience.
After Love is in UK cinemas from
June 4th.
