The Big Sick — Big Path-breaker or Big Insult?

Vaishnavi Pallapothu
The Red Elephant Foundation
4 min readOct 11, 2017

98% rating and certified fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, 7.8/10 on IMDb and almost unanimous acclaim from critics, The Big Sick is a joyous, light and good-hearted romantic-comedy. The premise is nothing new: A 30-year old man meets a young woman (by chance) and falls for her even though he thinks she is out of his league. Their relationship starts of as a fling wherein both keep assuring each other they won’t meet again but deliberately do. He almost blows the relationship and they separate for a while. A formula that is overused in rom-coms these days somehow works out in this movie because of certain idiosyncrasies.

Closely based on the real-life love story of Kumail Nanjiani and Emily Gordon (who wrote the script together), the Big Sick is about how a 30 year old man with a complicated private life and a charmingly funny graduate student fall in love, defeat the odds and come together and accept each other’s love. So far so conventional but the movie throws a spanner in the works by throwing in a life-threating illness in Emily’s life. She is put into a medically-induced coma while receiving treatment. Although the disease is life-threatening, the story moves in such a way that we do not realize how grave the situation is. The film’s humor remains intact as it finds comic details even in the most unexpected situations.

This movie stands out from the crowd because the story is so raw and real — it could happen to any of us and that’s what makes it so relatable. Kumail is no alpha-male. He is a struggling comedian (and uber driver) whose jokes don’t always work. He doesn’t live in a large and fancy apartment. He is very low-key, reserved and quiet. He is self-deprecating but with an offbeat outlook on life that wins Emily over. Arguably the first mainstream romantic-comedy with a non-white protagonist, The Big Sick finally offers representation for the immigrants and minorities. Kumail’s inner identity struggle is very apparent: he disappoints his family by not growing a beard, praying and generally following Muslim rituals. He doesn’t identify himself with the Islamic religion nor the Pakistani way of life but he doesn’t want to lose his family at the same time, so he tolerates their condescending remarks and “impromptu” marriage set-ups. To the American world, Kumail doesn’t want to but feels it necessary to remind everyone he is an immigrant. A non-white. Most of his comedic pieces center around his experiences as a Pakistani-American.

Emily (the lively Zoe Kazan) is lovable and makes a big enough impact for audiences to root for her even when she is largely absent in the second half of the film. Kumail immediately connects with Emily because he doesn’t feel the need to grapple about his dual-identity. He doesn’t need to prove to her his American-ness or explain his Pakistani-ness. This leaves viewers wishing for their reconciliation, especially in seeing Kumail’s desperation in wanting to be with Emily. Emily’s parents (played aptly by Ray Romano and Holly Hunter) are great additions to this big dysfunctional family. Their initial interactions with the nervous but determined Kumail are funny but so real at the same time (special props for the witty comeback to the 9/11 accusation!). The way in which they gradually learn to accept Kumail and let go of their misconceptions is touching.

However, I do have a few bones to pick with this movie — especially in the way it played on stereotypes about Pakistanis. Granted, it is based on Kumail Nanjiani’s real life experiences, but I couldn’t help but notice the slight exaggerations. Anupam Kher and Zenobia Shroff were brilliant in their roles but sadly cornered into clichés. Kumail’s father is the strict alpha-male breadwinner of the family. Kumail’s mother is the over-protective, over-bearing and passive-aggressive mother. Kumail’s brother is an obedient and exemplary son. And all the prospective brides that seem to visit are stale, lifeless and too traditional in the eyes of Kumail. While The Big Sick made strides in representing a minority brown male Pakistani, it failed to represent the women of the same background with equal effort. The females were shoved into a misogynistic box — something offensive, unnecessary and against what this movie was basically aiming for. Yes Kumail doesn’t want an arranged marriage and it is pretty clear his family is not the type to understand his desires but there was a certain air of arrogance and in the way Kumail discarded the biographies of each prospective bride in a box. Another noteworthy point is the portrayal of Kumail’s parents by Indian actors that makes brown people look homogenous and all the same way. In an industry with no shortage of actors from all walks of life and in an industry which heavily influences the west’s perception of brown people, it was puzzling to see brown actors used interchangeably. Watching this film with the hope of accurate portrayal of Pakistani (and somewhat Indian) families only to end up feeling slightly insulted was disappointing especially coming from Kumail, a person who deals with this situation often.

Bottom line, though, is that the Big Sick is a great step forward to push for more inclusive and representative films in Hollywood. Without and overtly grand romantic gestures or filmy moments, this movie still manages to capture your attention as it displays authenticity that usually is lacking in a rom-com. It is time for Hollywood to give the green-light for more films starring non-white protagonists, featuring relatable storylines, considering the critical and commercial success this film has enjoyed.

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Vaishnavi Pallapothu
The Red Elephant Foundation

Reader. Writer. Doodler. Learner. Thinker. Believer. Foodie. Traveller. Intersectional feminist. Story-teller. Friend. Sister. Daughter. Paper-cut survivor.