Mogul Mowgli (2020)

(On Cable TV, May 2022) If you’re going to be typecast as something, “a musician who experiences a major medical condition that forces him to re-evaluate his life” is quite a pigeonhole. But here we are: Riz Ahmed, after playing a drummer struck with deafness with life-altering consequences in Sound of Metal, revisits some very similar material in Mogul Mowgli, in which he plays a rapper struck with degenerative immune disease with life-altering consequences. The down to-the-ground approach of the film, halfway between neon-lit bleakness and lived-in grittiness, also reinforces the links between both films. Ahmed does have the good fortune of repeating a great role with a good role – it may feel very familiar, but it’s in service of a decent story. Still, you can probably guess that most of the comparisons between Oscar-nominated Sound of Metal and Mogul Mowgli don’t work at the second film’s advantage – the first film is richer, harsher, and more distinctive due to its use of sound as an immersive device. Mogul Mowgli fares better when considered on its own, not only as a story of a musician forced to cut short his career on the cusp of mega-success (handing it over to a successor who’s not necessarily worthy of it) and also dealing with issues of Pakistani representation in the cultural sphere. The cast is very much non-Caucasian, and Ahmed gets to play with a lot of verbal material as a loquacious rapper making a mark. If you’re looking for an excuse on why Mogul Mowgli is worth seeing even if you think you’ve seen it already, it’s the plunge into British-Pakistani culture in its rich complexity – with Ahmed pouring himself in the requirements of the role. It doesn’t seem so familiar once you get to the expression of it.