By 1985, Margaret Thatcher's Conservative government had been in power 10 years and was well on its way to dismantling much of the U.K.'s welfare state. Class tensions, traditionally an issue, were exacerbated. Immigrants, especially those who looked different from native Britons, often faced vicious prejudices. Most gays and lesbians, although less closeted than 20 years earlier, still risked dreadful consequences if their sexual orientation were known. This is the world of Stephen Frears' dazzling "My Beautiful Laundrette" (1985), now out on Criterion Collection DVD.
Omar Ali (appealing Gordon Warnecke) is a young, unemployed Pakistani living with his alcoholic father, Hussein (Roshan Seth), once a celebrated left-wing journalist, now full of self-pity and mourning his dead wife. Hussein's brother, Nasser (Saeed Jafrey), is a successful businessman who has negotiated a complex working relationship with the English community. At Hussein's request, he offers Omar a job washing cars. Impressed by his nephew's work ethic, he appoints him manager of a rundown laundrette and tasks him with making it profitable. Omar is thrilled by the opportunity.
He's also glad to meet other relatives and Pakistani immigrants. Among the latter is Salim (frightening Derrick Branche), who traffics drugs. He gets Omar to drive him and his wife to the airport to complete a deal. On the way home, their car is attacked by unemployed, working-class white toughs, led by Johnny Burfoot (wiry, buffed Daniel Day-Lewis), Omar's boyhood friend.
After the incident, Omar looks for Johnny, hoping to reconnect. He succeeds and offers him a job at the laundrette. Johnny, who wants a better life, accepts. In a startling scene, he passionately kisses Omar, who responds with equal ardor. Are they resuming a physically intimate relationship, or was the kiss a culmination of mutually suppressed desire from earlier years? It's never discussed. It doesn't matter.
Both want to turn the laundrette into a beautiful place that will draw customers with its decor and cleanliness. This requires money, which they earn by running drugs for Salim. The freshly painted, charmingly decorated, spotless laundrette is gorgeous. On opening night, customers line up to use it. Before admitting anyone, Omar confronts Johnny about his racist, xenophobic past. Johnny says he cannot change what he was, but that's all over with. He is committed to Omar. The two make love in the back room, barely escaping discovery when Nasser, his English mistress Rachel (Sally Anne Field), his daughter Tania (Rita Wolf), and Salim arrive. Hussein, sober and spruce, also shows up. He pleads with Nasser to get Omar (and Johnny) to attend college. He wants an educated son. Tania confronts Rachel, who, humiliated, leaves. Nasser is furious with Tania.
Omar drinks too much and proposes to Tania, who is determined to leave home. Omar longs to expand his business. To raise capital, he offers Salim the opportunity to invest, a way of laundering his dirty money. Salim accepts, but his contempt for Johnny and his xenophobic friends is overt. He injures one with his car. The toughs avenge themselves by trashing Salim's automobile and attacking him. They also smash the laundrette's windows. Johnny reluctantly helps Salim, driving his former friends away. Tania returns the next day and asks Johnny to leave with her. He refuses, suggesting Omar is the reason.
Will Omar and Johnny pursue their business and personal dreams despite the horrendous attacks they are likely to face again? Will these two outcasts plan a life together? How will Omar navigate between ambition and personal happiness? The ending is not explicit.
Frears had worked almost exclusively in TV for well over a decade before making "Laundrette." He brings the intimate virtues of the small screen without losing the power that only movies have. He captures the dreariness of poor London neighborhoods and the bleak lives that residents of grim public housing face each day. He also shows the complex world that the better-educated and ambitious Pakistani immigrants have to traverse. He reveals the limited options women had then and in many cases still do. The contrast between Tania and Rachel is illuminating and moving.
First-billed Warnecke is terrific as the complex Omar: sexy and dreamy, a devoted son who wants to please his father; a grateful nephew; a striving capitalist entrepreneur ready to compromise his values if necessary; and a young man who may be prepared to risk everything for a life with Johnny.
In his breakthrough role, fourth-billed Day-Lewis is electric and virile as the magnetic Johnny. He longs to shed his past. He also knows his happiness is contingent on Omar. He is equally compelling as the brutish hood and as Omar's gentle lover. He is both direct and subtle, consistently surprising yet always believable. The movie was released in the U.S. in 1986. Day-Lewis won the Best Supporting Actor Award from the National Board of Review and the same prize from the New York Film Critics Circle.
Frears gets exceptional performances from the rest of the large cast. Hanish Kureishi wrote the startling, complex, original screenplay. The fine cinematography is by Oliver Stapleton. The issues raised by "My Beautiful Laundrette" seem as timely today as they did in 1985. The film has lost none of its power or freshness.