‘Polite Society’ is a punk blast of pure delight

By Jake Coyle | Associated Press

Coming-of-age comedies about young protagonists with esoteric dreams are not exactly a rarity. What is less common, though, are films as spirited and charming as Nida Manzoor’s “Polite Society,” a roundhouse kick of a movie about two British-Pakistani sisters that marries Jane Austen with kung-fu flare.

“Polite Society,” the feature film debut of writer-director Manzoor, creator of the British sitcom “We Are Lady Parts,” is a fun and increasingly preposterous comedy. But it’s propelled by an infectious and genuine punk-rock energy. Make no mistake about it, the sisters of “Polite Society” are here to take down Pakistani tradition, the patriarchy and anything else you got.

Manzoor’s film, which opens in theaters Friday, first debuted at the Sundance Film Festival, where a lot of quirky coming-of-age comedies tend to emerge. And while there isn’t much inherently groundbreaking in “Polite Society,” Manzoor’s zippy script and direction, plus terrific performances from newcomer Priya Kansara and Ritu Arya, give a familiar teen-comedy form some spry new moves.

Ria Khan (Kansara) and Lena (Arya) are London sisters with ambitions that don’t jibe with their mostly sweet and not-all-that-demanding parents (Shobu Kapoor, Jeff Mirza). Ria dreams of being a stuntwoman. Lena is a budding artist. But having recently dropped out of art school, Lena’s self-confidence is flagging. Ria’s, however, is sky high — sometimes comically so. When she faces off with a library monitor (Shona Babayemi) at school, the scene turns into an amplified fight scene with all the aplomb of a Sergio Leone showdown. But as Lena flies through the air for the knockout kick, she falls short by a foot or two.

Like most comedies, “Polite Society” is best in its first half. Manzoor juxtaposes Ria and Lena’s brazen individualism against the expectations they’re saddled with growing up. One scene is crosscut between their mother, with other mothers at tea, talking warmly about her daughters’ maturity while back home, Ria and Lena dance wildly. But their biggest threat isn’t a domineering parent or a teacher that tells Ria to be a doctor, instead. It’s that Lena’s commitment to their sisterly rebellion is quaking.

By Jake Coyle | Associated Press

Coming-of-age comedies about young protagonists with esoteric dreams are not exactly a rarity. What is less common, though, are films as spirited and charming as Nida Manzoor’s “Polite Society,” a roundhouse kick of a movie about two British-Pakistani sisters that marries Jane Austen with kung-fu flare.

“Polite Society,” the feature film debut of writer-director Manzoor, creator of the British sitcom “We Are Lady Parts,” is a fun and increasingly preposterous comedy. But it’s propelled by an infectious and genuine punk-rock energy. Make no mistake about it, the sisters of “Polite Society” are here to take down Pakistani tradition, the patriarchy and anything else you got.

Manzoor’s film, which opens in theaters Friday, first debuted at the Sundance Film Festival, where a lot of quirky coming-of-age comedies tend to emerge. And while there isn’t much inherently groundbreaking in “Polite Society,” Manzoor’s zippy script and direction, plus terrific performances from newcomer Priya Kansara and Ritu Arya, give a familiar teen-comedy form some spry new moves.

Ria Khan (Kansara) and Lena (Arya) are London sisters with ambitions that don’t jibe with their mostly sweet and not-all-that-demanding parents (Shobu Kapoor, Jeff Mirza). Ria dreams of being a stuntwoman. Lena is a budding artist. But having recently dropped out of art school, Lena’s self-confidence is flagging. Ria’s, however, is sky high — sometimes comically so. When she faces off with a library monitor (Shona Babayemi) at school, the scene turns into an amplified fight scene with all the aplomb of a Sergio Leone showdown. But as Lena flies through the air for the knockout kick, she falls short by a foot or two.

Like most comedies, “Polite Society” is best in its first half. Manzoor juxtaposes Ria and Lena’s brazen individualism against the expectations they’re saddled with growing up. One scene is crosscut between their mother, with other mothers at tea, talking warmly about her daughters’ maturity while back home, Ria and Lena dance wildly. But their biggest threat isn’t a domineering parent or a teacher that tells Ria to be a doctor, instead. It’s that Lena’s commitment to their sisterly rebellion is quaking.