Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (M). Director: John Madden. Starring: Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, Tom Wilkinson, Bill Nighy, Penelope Wilton, Celia Imrie, Ronald Pickup, Dev Patel. 123 minutes
'It's about a group of British seniors who retire to a nursing home in India.' My colleague's face turned slack with boredom before I'd even finished this thumbnail synopsis. His stupefied expression was so comical that I burst out laughing. 'No, it's much better than it sounds on paper!' I insisted.
It is too, due in overwhelming part to an ensemble cast that consists of, frankly, some of the finest film actors in any age group, let alone the 60s to late 70s bracket they currently inhabit. Any film that features the likes of Smith and Dench and Wilkinson and Nighy would surely be worthwhile, regardless of any other shortcomings.
A prologue introduces the characters and establishes their motives for moving from England to India. Bereaved Evelyn (Dench) is faced with selling her home to pay off her late husband's debts. Supreme court judge Graham (Wilkinson) has unfinished business in India that dates back to his youth. For the unashamedly racist Muriel (Smith) the trip represents an opportunity to expedite hip surgery.
The relatively youthful but tightly wound Jean (Wilton) is appalled at the prospect of moving into a retirement village; she and her affable husband Douglas (Nighy) see India as a chance to extend their horizons and prolong their independence. Madge (Imrie), on the other hand, is on the hunt for what will be only her most recent rich husband, while ageing tomcat Norman (Pickup) simply wants to get laid.
These characters (strangers when the film begins) travel and arrive together at the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel for the Elderly and Beautiful, a once splendid but now rundown establishment whose reality does not yet match the vision of its optimistic young proprieter, Sonny (Patel). The new residents, many of whom have not strayed this far beyond England's shores, settle into abodes that are far less luxurious than they had anticipated.
Ol Parker's screenplay (based on Deborah Moggach's novel These Foolish Things) makes less than you might expect of the (predictable) clash-of-cultures, elderly-fish-out-of-water aspects of this scenario. There is the obligatory montage of the residents rushing to the toilet to relieve bowels that are unaccustomed to rich curries. But the film largely eschews 'poverty porn' and the India clichés of sardine-tin crowds and swatches of colour.
In place of the