Ramy: Being Muslim in America

When I started binge-watching Ramy last week, it was because it was a hilarious comedy and a novel insight into the challenges of being a practicing Muslim in America. However, the reason I continued to binge-watch was because I had fallen deeply in love with the characters and needed to see where their lives were headed. This show sucks you in, and even though elements of it can make you deeply uncomfortable, you won’t be able to tear your eyes away from the screen. In many ways, it reminded me of when I first watched Atlanta - that show was a window into what it was like to be Black in Atlanta, while this show will show you what it’s like to be an Arab Muslim in New Jersey. 

Ramy Youssef stars (and also occasionally writes and directs) in the show, playing Ramy Hassan, a first-generation Egyptian-American immigrant in New Jersey who is trying to reconcile his faith with being a millennial American. He lives with his parents, Maysa (Hiam Abbass, in a far cry from her sophisticated role in Succession and who should be winning a dozen awards for this portrayal of a Palestinian immigrant trying to get used to life in America), and Farouk (Amr Waked, who wonderfully embodies the fears, hopes, and frustrated ambition of all immigrants seeking a better life for their families), and his sister, Dena (May Calamawy, who speaks for all brown girls everywhere when she chafes at the restrictions placed on her while her brother gets to do as he pleases). My favorite moments in this show are when it is just a family comedy, with all these characters clashing across generational and gender lines, and struggling to figure out what exactly it is they are meant to be doing with their lives. But what makes this show truly special is that this is a Muslim family, with that Muslim identity meaning very different things to each family member.

Watching this show made me exceedingly nostalgic for my childhood in Bahrain. There’s a lot of Arabic being spoken (you had better be OK with subtitles), a soundtrack filled with bopping Arab tunes, and a lot of calls to prayer. For the first time, I got to see what goes on inside a mosque and what rituals accompany the daily prayers. Because it’s 2020, we also get to see the technological advances of modern Islam - for example, Ramy has an app on his phone that starts playing the call to prayer whenever it’s time. As you can imagine, this is often deployed to great comic effect, like when he’s in the middle of hooking up with a girl but then gets a reminder that Ramadan is about to begin and he won’t be able to have sex for the next thirty days. His friends are also varying kinds of Muslims, often alternating between strict adherence and then deciding to just ask for forgiveness later. And I would be remiss if I didn't mention Steve (played by Ramy Youssef's real-life childhood friend, Steve Way), who has muscular dystrophy and is severely disabled in a wheelchair, and yet might be the filthiest and most outgoing friend Ramy has. This show is about Muslim representation, but in this character, it also goes a long way to representing those with disabilities and how their lives aren't defined by their illness. 

The focus of the series is on Ramy and his search for meaning. I started out really loving this character and empathizing with him, but by the end of the second season, he does some deeply terrible things, and now I just want to see if he ever digs himself out of this hole. To put it bluntly, the boy is a fuck-up: not just by immigrant standards, but by the standards of humanity. He is a selfish man-boy, driven by his baser urges, desperate to be better, and yet never somehow quite succeeding. And that is tolerable when the only person he is hurting is himself, but it slowly becomes apparent that he’s taking down the people around him. Instead, my favorite episodes are those which focus on the members of his family. We usually only see them as planets orbiting the sun that is Ramy, but in the episodes dedicated to them, we see how much they are dealing with on a daily basis. The occasions when you get a glimpse into being a Muslim woman are often the most revelatory and I wish we could get a season of Dena or Maysa. That being said, in Season 2, the most poignant episode might be the one around Uncle Naseem (Laith Nakli), who hitherto had been their grossly misogynistic, racist uncle who nonetheless helped the family out a great deal and was the only reason Ramy had a job. By the end of that episode, even that dude felt more redeemable than Ramy.

In the second season, Mahershala Ali has a recurring role as the Sufi sheikh who becomes Ramy’s new guide to figuring out how to be a good Muslim. When you’ve got a double Oscar winner in your cast, you know you must be doing something right. Ali’s inclusion in the cast also offers insight into the tension between Arab and Black Muslims. Turns out sharing the same faith does not stop either side from still indulging in a healthy dose of racism. However, Ali turns in a calm, compassionate, and thoroughly spectacular performance that truly illustrates what Islam is all about. And really, that’s my ultimate takeaway from this show. I have never been frightened of Muslims or hearing people speak Arabic because I had the luxury of growing up in an environment where I knew they were just ordinary people like me. But for most Americans, their only exposure to Muslims is by seeing them portrayed as radical terrorists on screen. So for Allah’s sake, seek out Ramy and dive into this fascinating show that has a lot to teach you about Islam but also about how Muslims are just as weird, wonderful, and screwed up as the rest of us. 

Staged: Lockdown Laughs

On Friday, I discovered that the BBC had been airing a sitcom starring David Tennant and Michael Sheen that was filmed during the UK's lockdown. Staged is the first show I've seen that has directly been birthed by the pandemic, and having binge watched it all today, oh man, I could use a few seasons more. 

The concept is simple: Tennant and Sheen are playing exaggerated versions of themselves (with their partners making appearances as well, since the nature of lockdown is that the whole family gets to share in the shenanigans) and they have decided to rehearse a play they were supposed to be putting on in the West End before everything got shut down due to Covid-19. Simon Evans is their beleaguered director; he is intimidated by Michael and in cahoots with David to start up rehearsals over Zoom calls and try to ensure they are prepared so they can swan back into the theatre once lockdown restrictions lift. However, things quickly go off the rails as there are multiple obstacles to being productive over a Zoom conference call.

The true joy of this show comes from the banter between Sheen and Tennant. The two previously worked together on Good Omens and it is clear that they very much enjoy each other's company, even over a computer screen. The show was brilliantly written and directed by Simon Evans, but I would love to know how much improvisation was allowed, because the two leads look like they're just having a jolly old time and catching up with each other. I mean, what do you expect when you put together a Scotsman and a Welshman who are going mad during quarantine but are hyper-eloquent, fantastic theater actors who love a good turn of phrase? It is spectacularly silly and wonderful and truly captures the sense of utter boredom coupled with the need to be doing something interesting that has been the plight of us all in the past few months.

Staged is a very quick watch, only six episodes ranging from 15-20 minutes in length, and you can watch them all on BBC iPlayer already, even though the last two episodes are only due to air on TV on June 24. There are some spectacular cameos to look forward to - Episode 3 features a storyline about another actor who was offered the part that was then given to Michael, and when this person showed up on screen, my mind boggled. This show is a perfect example of the kind of creative endeavor we can relish in these unique global circumstances - if you have a solid script and fantastic actors who share a joyful camaraderie, a Zoom dial-in is the only thing you need to film a classic sitcom.

Just Mercy: An Urgent Call for Justice

This month, a number of studios are releasing movies about black people, by black people, for free on various streaming platforms in response to the #BlackLivesMatter protests that have taken over the world. I wanted to see Just Mercy in theaters earlier this year, but it was in and out so fast that I missed it. Having now watched it, I highly recommend you all do the same.

Based on his memoir, the movie tells the true story of Bryan Stevenson (played by the always incredible Michael B. Jordan, who also served as a producer and was instrumental in getting this film made), a black lawyer who got his degree from Harvard and then went to Montgomery, Alabama, to found the Equal Justice Initiative, a non-profit dedicated to helping prisoners on death row by either reducing or overturning their sentences. We follow Bryan’s initial struggles to set up the office, and the near-constant racism he has to deal with from the white police officers, lawmakers, and residents who think he should leave well enough alone as he attempts to get Walter McMillian off of death row.

Walter is played by Jamie Foxx, in a painfully quiet and heartrending performance. He has been languishing on death row for years when Bryan finally arrives and takes a look at his case. It is immediately apparent that the evidence that was used to get Walter the death penalty was flimsy beyond belief. Everything hinges on testimony from a white felon who claims Walter killed a young white woman, but as Bryan questions Walter’s family and reads through the police transcripts, it is increasingly clear that there is no way Walter committed this crime. And now he will set out to convince the state of Alabama of this fact.

Watching Just Mercy is an infuriating exercise. It is an excellent movie, with two actors at the top of their game, and a compelling script that in isolation would read like a taut and compelling thriller. But you can’t watch this story in isolation, because it is an all-too common one. A black man is framed for a crime and is punished by a bunch of racists who don’t even understand how racist they are because their horrific attitudes have been systemically embedded into policing and the law. There’s the judge who denies an appeal despite a clearly articulated argument and the actual witness reneging on his previous testimony. There are the police officers who threaten Stevenson just because he is a black man trying to help another black man out. There’s the constant hum of white people telling black people “they must have done something,” with the utter conviction that being black means you are guilty before being proven innocent. None of this is new. But it continues to be galling.

Just Mercy highlights a lot of the key reasons people are out protesting in the streets today. It may be a movie about one specific trial, but by the end, Stevenson has unveiled the corruption throughout the police department and the court. The movie even ends with the horrifying statistic that for every nine people who have been executed, one person has been exonerated - how can we tolerate that error rate? How can we allow the justice system to continually dole out these horrifying inequities? How can we continue to hire police officers who are brimming with unconscious (and oftentimes wholly conscious and loudly declared) racist biases to serve our communities and keep us safe? At this point, who are they keeping us safe from?

It’s no wonder that the rallying cry at protests has become Defund the Police. And for readers who haven’t gone beyond the sound bites, let me make it very clear that “defund” doesn’t equate to “abolish.” It means moving some of the money that is used to fund the police to other programs that could better solve the problems that our communities face. For example, dispatching trained social workers or mental health professionals when a call comes in about a non-violent domestic disturbance. Many police departments are getting millions in funding while mental health programs and social services are crumbling. It’s time to redress the balance and pursue other options where we don’t arm our police like the military and give them fear-based training that teaches them to shoot first and treat everyone around them like an enemy. And it’s time to laud the work of organizations like the Equal Justice Initiative and men like Bryan Stevenson, who are doing the work we should have all been doing all along. So join a protest, donate to these causes, or at least watch all the movies that are being made available to you this month so you can better educate yourself and start to chip away at those biases within you. We have a lot of work to do. Let’s get started.

The Great: A Rambunctious Ride

My greatest takeaway from Hulu's new miniseries, The Great, has been a renewed appreciation of the many ways in which one can exclaim, "Huzzah!" I tend to type the word "huzzah" a lot in texts or emails, but ever since I started watching this show, it has become a more prominent part of my vocabulary. Because, you know, I can't just keep screaming profanity about the pandemic and police brutality all day long. I know life has been exceedingly hard these past few weeks, and everyone's gotta do what they gotta do. Donate to charity, go for a protest, apply for a mail-in ballot. But when you want to escape from real life for a bit, I highly recommend The Great. It makes for exquisite escapism.

Written and created by Tony McNamara (who wrote The Favourite, which is a clue to the kind of inanity this show serves up), The Great tells the story of Catherine the Great (played magnificently by Elle Fanning) when she arrives in Russia to marry Peter III and discovers that he is a buffoon who doesn't give a fig for all her enlightened ideals about the rights of man. Peter (played with joyous abandon by Nicholas Hoult) is a macho roisterer, who likes earthly pleasures, doesn't care about art and poetry, and is shocked that his new wife isn't utterly besotted by him.

Meanwhile, Catherine forms an alliance with her maid Marial (the gorgeous and brash Phoebe Fox), who is a fallen lady-in-waiting who helps Catherine understand all the nuances of court life, and Orlo (played to twitchy perfection by Sacha Dhawan), one of Peter's advisers who has grand ideas and is tired of the emperor's barbaric ways. Add to the mix, Leo Voronsky (Sebastian de Souza, who is now playing a lovely gentleman in stark contrast to his other Hulu role as the bad college boyfriend in Normal People), who Peter gifted to Catherine to serve as her lover. As they plot and scheme, they come up with the grand idea of staging a coup so Catherine can become Empress of Russia and lead the country out of the dark ages. What could go wrong?

You should not be watching The Great if you're expecting an actual history lesson (the title card specifically features an asterisk calling this "an occasionally true story"). A lot of the bonkers details are true, but many are simply made up to expedite the storytelling and lend it a gloriously frenzied pace. The set and costume design are lavish beyond belief and lend to the sense of fantasy about this whole enterprise. This show is ten episodes of sheer madness and mayhem, filled with sweary aristocrats, furious political plotting, and a never-ending barrage of wit and wickedness.  So sit back and escape with the profoundly profane and perfect The Great. Huzzah!