In a way, it’s brilliant that actor Riz Ahmed delves into one of Hollywood’s (and Britain’s) most pressing cultural voids – Who will be the next James Bond? – and inserts himself into it. In Bait, a six-episode miniseries, Ahmed plays an emerging Pakistani-British actor having an existential moment when he’s announced as a contender to be the next 007. In a series that is part wish-fulfilment, part introspection, part satire and part surreal coming-of-age tale, Ahmed meditates on his place in Hollywood, in modern British society and if his immigrant trauma will even lends itself to playing the poised, suave, and, till now, white, neo-colonial MI6 agent. Shahjahan Latif (Ahmed) is an actor on the brink, when he enters an audition of a lifetime. The director favours him, and it’s all going well, until one line of dialogue from a co-star throws the entire audition into disarray. “Do you even know who you are?” It’s a loaded question for a guy almost knifed by skinheads as an adolescent, mocked for his eating habits, trying to fit in using polished language and quiet compliance with the very structures that marginalise him, while reckoning with his South Asian family’s ghosts of having had to migrate to a foreign land for a better quality of life. A still from ‘Bait’.Shah, as he likes to be called to be accessible to those fumbling the pronunciation of ‘Shahjahan’, is nearly penniless. His cousin Zulfi (Guz Khan)’s cab service (Muba – Uber for Muslims) is about to take off, his ex-girlfriend is about to migrate to Argentina with her white boyfriend, and this one role could take him from being the black sheep of the family to a beacon of global success. Is he ‘selling out’ by bowing to the establishment that’s enabled his discrimination? Or is he reclaiming space once reserved for a white man, and making the world a more equal place?Created by Ahmed, the show depicts Shahjahan as a pathetic loser – who, after bombing his audition, exits from the front door of a building which he has been explicitly told to avoid because paparazzi have been camping to get a glimpse of the Bond hopefuls. Soon, the rumour mill is buzzing with a desi Bond on the horizon and everyone’s attitude towards Shahjahan changes. Once the subject of gossip among aunties as someone who “lost his way”, everyone suddenly wants to take pictures with Shahjahan. Seeing the pride in his mother Tahira’s (a spitfire Sheeba Chadha) eyes, only increases the pressure on him. Maybe, if he becomes James Bond, he will finally be enough for his family, acquaintances, Britain, and as a brown person trying to gatecrash the primarily white echelons of society. A still from ‘Bait’.The first three episodes, directed by Bassam Tariq, who also made the similarly hypnotic Mogul Mowgli (2020), sets the dreamlike tone of the six-episode series. Also starring Ahmed, Tariq’s debut was a haunting portrait of the push-and-pulls within an immigrant South Asian family. Here, Shahjahan is a more timid and tentative version of Ahmed’s persona in interviews or talk shows. In his efforts to belong, Shahjahan becomes more and more ashamed of his immediate family: his foul-mouthed mother, his borderline-perv father, his enterprising cousin and his opportunistic relatives – are everything he wants to leave behind, as he braces himself for a globetrotting lifestyle, just like his fictional alter-ego. There’s one relationship that tips the first domino on Shahjahan’s self-improvement journey, before he returns for a callback on his Bond audition. It’s his ex-girlfriend Yasmin (Ritu Arya), who he ventures to meet on the other side of London, to confront her for a snarky piece she’s written on the futility of a ‘brown’ Bond. A still from ‘Bait’.It’s in the| fourth episode, directed by Tom George, that the series becomes gentle, thanks to the comfort between Ahmed and Arya, making their history palpable. Managing to sabotage a perfect evening, Shahjahan goes home to make amends with the rest of his family – his ailing father, his disturbed-yet-affectionate mother and his bruised cousin. Ahmed, whose career has been built around reinventing South Asian characters on screen, brings his A-game to a character whose unlikeability could have leaked into the show becoming insufferable. Reminiscent of the absurdity in Four Lions (2010), especially in a scene involving a mosque and the severed head of a pig, the Sound of Metal actor taps into the many layers of his fragmented, torn character, taking us on a psychological odyssey for the ages. Guz Khan, who has been a long-time collaborator with Ahmed, lights up the show each time he appears on screen playing Zulfi, the eccentric family member we all want to dissociate from in the public eye. One of the most authentic things here is the banter between Shahjahan and Zulfi. Bait is not everyone’s cup of tea – it’s strange, wonky, cute, absurd and frustrating in equal measure. After that first episode, one can see where the show is headed, and when it finally lands on its last scene, it lands with a sting. Identity isn’t a role you win, it’s one you stop auditioning for. It’s only while chasing Bond’s part that Shahjahan realises he must stop performing the version of himself he thinks the people would accept. The title of the show, thus, assumes multiple meanings: ‘bait’ is GenZ for ‘to provoke’. But it could also perhaps be taken to mean-the immigrant protagonist becoming bait for cultural commentators*All episodes of Bait are streaming on Amazon Prime Video.