To be fair, I always knew that Salmon Fishing in the Yemen
frustrate me.
Ordinarily a tepid rom-com starring Ewan McGregor as an inoffensive
British swot gradually winning the heart of the delicate Emily Blunt while
Kristin Scott Thomas tears shit up in the background (as she is contractually
obliged to do in British films these days) would be silently tolerated like we
were two strangers sharing an elevator.
Except there’s something so inane about the premise of Salmon Fishing in the Yemen that just grated
on me from the first trailer. I’m talking, of course, about the putting of
salmon in the Yemen.
The plot of STitY spins
on Ewan McGregor’s fisheries expert Fred Jones teaming up with Blunt’s accountantrix
Harriet to satisfy Amr Waked’s sheikh’s fantasy to be able to fish in Yemen
much the same way he does on his palatial estate in Scotland. Hint: they fall
in love.
Now maybe, being Australian, I’m sensitive to introduced species
as ecological threat but I find it hard to swallow a British government
fisheries expert embarking on a ques to introduce wildlife into a foreign
ecosystem without pointing out that this is essentially an environmental
catastrophe.
So, rather than letting this pass me by like the proverbial trawler
in the night, I did a bit of Googling around (not much, mind you, keep in mind
at this point I don’t really give a shit either way).
Surprisingly, matching “Salmon fishing in the Yemen”
to “environmental disaster”, “introduced species” or “Gaia-Armageddon” didn’t
reveal much in the way of useful results.
Oh well, I figured, I’m hardly an expert in these things;
maybe the films offers a perfectly reasonable explanation and that’s why no one’s
up in arms. So SFitY was allowed to
go on its merry way.
Until last week, when my parents came to town. After a few
days of babysitting, I was ready for an activity where we could just chill out
for a few hours. So, my favourite activity – going to the movies. And the only
thing playing that my mother wanted to see…?
To be fair, STitY is
exactly the kind of film that appeals to my parents; both of whom love British
comedy. They’re of the same demographic that The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel most appeals to. So we went.
And is the ecological format of deliberately introducing
foreign species to an ecosystem raised? Nope. Certainly not by McGregor’s fisheries
expert. McGregor starts the film in firm opposition to the plan, it is true,
but his arguments all boil down to how
difficult it would be to keep the fish alive, not what the fish would
accidentally kill just by being there.
The film tries to get around the problem by specifying that
the project is to take place in a formerly-dry riverbed (and hence the salmon
will not be competing with native fish). That argument worked on me for a few
minutes until I started thinking about what the fish would eat and what would
eat the fish and things started to get a red mist at the edges again. Waked’s
character speechifies at one point about his dream of irrigating the desert in
what I imagine the screen writer feels is a noble and uplifting way. And it is
- if you forget that deserts are viable ecosystems in their own right.
But after a while, you kind of let go of that frustration
and get on with the film – both the salmon and the Yemen are, after all, just MacGuffins
to justify one attractive British person locking lips with another.
But then we have the subplot of the film, where the noble
Sheik (speaking of faith and fishing in vaguely Messianic tones) is facing a
revolution in the titular Yemen.
His countrymen being understandably underwhelmed the Sheikh’s plan to introduce
a quintessentially British pastime (at least it’s presented as such in the
film) into their country without seeking their counsel.
All of which provides lots of lovely opportunities for
McGregor’s nebbish Fred to prove himself a hero by thwarting attempts on his multimillionaire
benefactor’s life (using a fishing fly – no less!). But the fact that, despite
their use of terrorism, the antagonists have a fundamentally valid point isn’t
really discussed by the film – with the exception of a single post-climax line from
McGregor which puts lie to the idea that the screenwriter hadn’t realised the
issue was bubbling beneath the surface of his script.
Instead what we get is a kind of ersatz colonialism. The
Sheikh, Oxbridge educated and rich enough that a ₤50 million aquarium is a
pittance, intends to bring peace to the Middle East by importing British
customs that supposedly make all men equal. Leaving aside the fear that
importing Western culture into parts of the world that don’t want it is exactly
the sort of thing that might feasibly fuel
terrorism rather than prevent it, the lunacy of a billionaire lecturing me on
social equality from the other side of his oaken dining table flabbergasts me.
I could go on.
So, no, ideologically at least, I did not like STitY.
I think part of the issue may be with producers on this one.
From what I understand (I’m certainly not going to read it), the Paul Torday novel
on which it is based is actually a political satire rather than a romantic
comedy (Kristin Scott Thomas’ character being one of the few carryovers, I
suspect). Most of these ideological concerns could have easily been dealt with
as an extended gag about clueless the British Government can be when confronted
with complex crises. But, sadly, the whole thing is mostly played straight and
becomes some bizarre thing about the triumph of the human spirit over loveless
marriages – or something like that.
That’s not to say Salmon
Fishing in the Yemen is unilaterally terrible. The performers are all on
point for the material (though only Blunt and Waked seem to be interested in
being there) and the cinematographer certainly succeeds in making Yemen
look breathtaking. There’s even a good joke or two hidden among the twee.
It’s just not enough to recommend sitting through an
otherwise inane movie.
