Though good national fences make good neighbors, there's
an adage that if you get to know the people on the other side
of the wall, you will inevitably like them. Ironically the same
is not always true of people who share the same society and
become close friends, even mates. In Jasmin Dizdar's
consistently surprising film "Beautiful People," winner of the
Prix Un Certain Regard for Best Film at the 1999 Cannes
Festival, four families are put under the director's microscope
with startling repercussions. Two individuals from the same
society have been married with children but are separating
and hostile, while other folks from disparate cultures find
understanding and compassion for one another and become
good friends and lovers despite obstacles put in their paths
by our global order.
"Beautiful People" is about the impact of Bosnian refugees
on London residents into whose civilization they're attempting
to fuse. As you might expect, the English of a mature age
come of as snobbish, even intolerant, while their Bosnian
expatriates are down-to-earth, ranging from the starkly crude
to the most intelligently open-minded. All of Dizdar's
characters vary from the whimsical to the downright bizarre--
which under this director's hand makes "Beautiful People"
one of the best-realized comedies of the past year.
The opening scene will probably become the audience
favorite, a harbinger of the breathless pace that commands
the movie. Two traditional Bosnian enemies, a Serb (Dado
Jehan) and a Croat (Faruk Prutti) who lived near each other
in their home country, bump into each other in London, revive
their animosity in a knock-down, drag-out fight that begins on
a London bus ("This is London transport--we don't do that
here," commands the driver), and continue their tussle into
the streets. Geography knows no armistice--the Bosnians
bring their culture clash into a foreign city that looks upon
them with bewilderment and horror. The two will end up in a
hospital room as bedmates, leading to some of the brightest
slapstick hilarity of the story.
Other situations mirror this strife, bringing the runaway
Bosnians into the families of their hosts in Britain and in one
case carrying the confrontations back to Bosnia. In the
circumstance that best shows the distinctions between the
English and their guests, a medical intern, Portia Thornton
(Charlotte Coleman) pursues an affair with a Bosnian patient
who is an unemployed former basketball player, Pero (Edin
Dzandzanovic), the latter the most eager to assimilate into his
new surroundings. In one effective scene, the couple have
dinner at the intern's home, displaying a wide array of
patronizing behavior by her stiff-upper-lip family. "I for one
am opposed to ethnic cleansing," one family member assures
the young man, as though he were making the most open-
minded statement yet heard on the planet.
In depicting the lifestyle of a distinctly scruffy set of
Londoners, Dizdar hones in on a stoner, Griffin (Danny
Nussbaum), whose friends have skinhead views toward the
refugees until they experience the poignancy of a small, blind
child who has been brought to their country. Griffin,
perpetually chided by his respectable dad Roger (Roger
Soloman) and ditzy mother, Felicity (Heather Tobias), falls
under a blanket in a drug-induced stupor at the airport, is
transported with some UN food supplies to Bosnian,
parachuted into the war-torn landscape where he is shot at,
and ends up an unlikely hero by using his heroin to save an
unfortunate patient pain while the Bosnian is having his leg
amputated. But perhaps the most riotous riff of all involves a
BBC reporter on the scene, Jerry Higgins (Gilbert Martin),
who identifies so strongly with the victim of gangrene that he
becomes afflicted with "Bosnian syndrome" and demands to
have his own healthy leg amputated.
While we're tempted to find irony in the title "Beautiful
People" since, after all, most are outwardly shaggy, some
stoners and others mortal enemies, we're obliged to conclude
that one and all--Brits and Bosnians alike and by extension all
of us who populate this medium-sized planet--can indeed be
wonderful. The film is a poignant, boisterous, and expertly
directed burlesque--an almost surreal version of Mike Nichols'
"Catch 22."
Copyright © 2000 Harvey Karten