Movie Review: Rock the Kasbah

By Katherine Monk

Not every boomer sold out. A few hippies managed to survive middle age with their flower intact, and Hollywood loves to make movies about them because they are the unicorns of the grown-up world – happy rainbows of moral make-believe that make us feel better about ourselves.

Whether or not they really exist is immaterial. All that matters is we believe in them long enough to buy into the story – usually some brand of fantasy – where the hippie hero is given a chance to show up and save the world with his love bubbles and fluffy white wings.

Or in this case, his black trunk of rock ‘n’ roll history because our de facto hero in this story is Richie Lanz (Bill Murray), a professional tour manager who hasn’t run a show since Foghat charted. Sitting in his Los Angeles office waiting for the phone to ring, Richie’s main gig is booking his secretary (Zooey Deschanel) at the local bar.

He needs cash, and when he’s told about how much money you can make going to the Middle East to entertain the troops with the USO, Richie is all in. He books himself and his lovely assistant on the next plan to Kabul, where the world looks even worse than his fleabag mattress in the Valley.

His hotel is wrapped in sandbags and barbed wire. Bombs go off regularly, and soon, his meal ticket goes AWOL, leaving Richie in the middle of Afghanistan with no money and no prospects.

Then something incredible happens. On a trip to a remote part of the countryside, he hears a haunting sound: A young woman singing in a cave by herself.

She softly strums a guitar with her hair down. She looks like a goddess in the candle’s glow, and Richie is awash in sentiment. He’s spellbound by the performance, but realizes what he’s witnessed is entirely taboo.

Salima (Leem Lubany) is a Pashtun villager and daughter of the tribal chief. She’s not allowed to sing, dance or do anything that might be considered sexual – let alone appear without her hair covered.

Richie can’t believe the repression, so he looks to a local leader for some guidance. He finds just about everything he needs with Merci (Kate Hudson), the local sex worker getting rich servicing servicemen and private contractors in her doublewide.

Together, Richie and Merci think they can take Salima from her tiny village to the top of the pops by appearing on the national talent contest.

Now for those who think Afghanistan would never have a version of American Idol on its airwaves, you should check out the Havana Marking documentary called Afghan Star – clearly part of the inspiration behind Rock the Kasbah as it featured two young women risking their lives just to participate.

Afghan Star took us behind the scenes to show us why dancing on TV would elicit death threats from fundamentalists, but it also told is that in Afghanistan, singing is an expression of freedom.

And freedom is anthem in America, which means Richie is now in his wheelhouse, ready to ride the Bic-flicking chorus of a power ballad onto the tightly knotted carpets of Afghani living rooms.

It’s a marriage of Hollywood convenience, giving screenwriter and frequent Murray collaborator, Mitch Glazer, an opportunity to bring two entirely different worlds together, but the union has obvious problems.

Rock the Kasbah, as the title borrowed from pop vernacular (thanks to The Clash) suggests, is a western take on the eastern world. It’s butter-covered popcorn created from a kernel of truth: Real women risked their lives to sing on Afghan TV. The rest is hot air and grease.

What you get is pleasant fluff; some easily digestible bits of feel-good comedy propelled by Bill Murray’s lovable deadpan in the role of hippie flameout. It works. But when you think about the backdrop, and the blistering potential for misunderstandings, the whole movie landscape starts to feel like a minefield.

Murray’s cheeky spanks to the flanks of Americana, self-deprecating as they may be, still cause a squirm because at some level, the movie’s whole comic, saccharine approach feels fundamentally disrespectful because it’s so American – and betrays a sense of cultural colonialism.

There are enough sincere moments to prove good intention and guide the film home in an armored car of politically correct concern, but one can’t help but wonder how the whole scenario would play out on home soil, after a foreign militia slaughtered thousands – say, after 9/11.

Would satire and irony find a comfortable couch to share with a pile of corpses and a morally bankrupt contractor, or would it be considered too close, too soon?

Rock the Kasbah doesn’t just show how war becomes more palatable when it’s fought far away, it also proves how we take our values with us every time we leave home – for better, and for worse.

@katherinemonk

THE EX-PRESS: October 23, 2015

-30-