Oscar nominee Riz Ahmed, who played an American drummer so powerfully in 2019's The Sound of Metal, plays a British rapper in a drama co-written with documentarian Bassam Tariq, here making his narrative debut. If anything, the part represents less of a stretch, since the Anglo-Pakistani actor has been rapping for years. In both films, tightly-wound protagonists face the challenges of chronic, incurable conditions that manifest quickly and aggressively.
Rapper Zed, who lives in the States, often references his Pakistani and Muslim heritage in his work. So often, in fact, that his girlfriend, Bina (Aiysha Hart), doesn't understand why he spends so little time with his family. When he gets an offer to join a high-profile London tour, he pays them a visit in the working-class suburb of Wembley. His mother, Nasra (Sudha Bhuchar), works in a grocery store, and his retired father, Abu (Alyy Khan) used to manage a beauty salon and a restaurant in which Zed worked as a server. Abu isn't thrilled with Zed's career and cousins also criticize his Anglicized ways, like a preference for the nickname Zed over Zaheer. Beyond the carping, though, it's clear something else is bringing him down, since he keeps rubbing his leg and seeing figures from his past, such as a man with flowers covering his face.
When Zed collapses after an altercation with an aggressive fan, he wakes up in the hospital where the physician informs him that his muscles are weakening. Then, while waiting for the results of a biopsy, he loses his tour slot to RPG (Nabhaan Riswan), a crude acolyte. The tests reveal an autoimmune condition for which the neurologist recommends an experimental treatment to manage the symptoms. If Zed was already stressed about his stagnant career and faltering relationship, now he's worried his life is essentially over—not least because the treatment causes infertility. He isn't even sure he wants kids, but his father is counting on it. Abu proceeds to encourage alternative therapies, which have no effect, driving the two even further apart, though the ending suggests that better days may lie ahead.
Throughout, Ahmed and Khan strike the necessary sparks, though the film can be overly-opaque. Zed's illness, for instance, doesn't have a name, making it hard to tell if it's real or a directorial invention. His doctors, however, tell him that it has a genetic component, contributing to the strain between father and son. Zed's visions also remain unexplained. Though they help to define his character, since they include moments from his past, it isn't clear if they're part of his illness or an unrelated psychological issue. It's possible the writers intended the ambiguities to allow viewers to draw their own conclusions, except they prevent the film from hitting as hard as intended. However, Mogul Mowgli confirms Tariq's facility with resonant themes and strong performances—its success would land him a coveted job as the director of Marvel's Blade reboot. Recommended for drama film collections in libraries and for academic librarians with university classes on immigration or Muslim studies.