Friday, January 21, 2005
Kisna The Warrior Poet
It’s tempting for any established director to make an epic love story set in the past; it allows for visual grandeur and larger-than-life emotional quality that films set in modern times lack. Subhash Ghai gave in to temptation at last – and though he could have picked any great novel set in pre-Independence times, he chooses a rather trite plot (with some inspiration from Shyam Benegal’s Junoon and Last of the Mohicans), but to his credit gives Kisna The Warrior Poet a magnificent scale and some truly memorable movie moments. Not to forget Ghai’s pet theories about “Indianness”, which, for some reason, he wants to impart in a solemn school-masterish way.
Unfortunately, after the tedious prologue with an old Lady Katherine (Polly Adams) from England coming to India and wanting to visit Dev Prayag, you know there’s a flashback coming and the film’s going nowhere. All you can do is settle back and try to enjoy the circuitous, laboured storytelling. And it takes a great deal of effort!
The hero Kisna (Vivek Oberoi, a sad case of miscasting), rather grandly called a warrior poet, looks like neither-- more like a brainless mama’s boy. Since childhood, he was pals with Katherine (Antonia Bernath), the daughter of an autocratic British officer. When Independence is round the corner, Kisna’s evil uncle (Amrish Puri), kills Katherine’s father (Michael Maloney) and burns their house, though Katherine and her mother (Caroline Langrishe) escape the mob.
Kisna’s mother (Zarina Wahab) tells him it is duty to protect Katherine and take her to a safe place, so the two take off, leaving Kisna’s jealous fiancée Laxmi (Isha Sharvani) fuming.
Ghai bungs in as many crises as he can, Kisna’s own brother (Yashpal Sharma) baying for the British girl’s blood, a wicked Indian prince Raghuraj (Rajat Kapoor, hilariously hammy) lusting after her, Laxmi chasing them, communal riots and the works. Through the interminable journey, Kisna and Katherine wade through obstacles and hair’s breadth rescues with monotonous regularity. Some episodes are boring, some lit up by interesting performers like the one in which a courtesan (Sushmita Sen) and her sidekick (Om Puri) help the fugitives.
In typical Bollywood style, the costumes, dances and music are a kitschy blend, or how could you have a woman doing the rope mallakhamb (the incredibly lithe Isha reduced to an ‘item’ number) in North India in 1947; or women from Brahmin households dancing in public in strapless cholis; or a Broadway style chorus dance as a dream sequence.
Still, Kisna is watchable for Ashok Mehta making Uttaranchal’s rugged terrain look like fairyland. And for Antonia Bernath’s luminous presence. And Ismail Darbar-AR Rahman’s music. And for the valiant struggle of a successful filmmaker to not repeat himself and still find that elusive magic that makes film a box-office hit. Lofty goal apart, Ghai falls between two boats—the ‘masses’ would find the film too slow, the ‘classes’ would pick other holes in it. Whatever it may be, the time for 3-hour-plus marathons is clearly up, unless they are faced-paced and really unusual.
Unfortunately, after the tedious prologue with an old Lady Katherine (Polly Adams) from England coming to India and wanting to visit Dev Prayag, you know there’s a flashback coming and the film’s going nowhere. All you can do is settle back and try to enjoy the circuitous, laboured storytelling. And it takes a great deal of effort!
The hero Kisna (Vivek Oberoi, a sad case of miscasting), rather grandly called a warrior poet, looks like neither-- more like a brainless mama’s boy. Since childhood, he was pals with Katherine (Antonia Bernath), the daughter of an autocratic British officer. When Independence is round the corner, Kisna’s evil uncle (Amrish Puri), kills Katherine’s father (Michael Maloney) and burns their house, though Katherine and her mother (Caroline Langrishe) escape the mob.
Kisna’s mother (Zarina Wahab) tells him it is duty to protect Katherine and take her to a safe place, so the two take off, leaving Kisna’s jealous fiancée Laxmi (Isha Sharvani) fuming.
Ghai bungs in as many crises as he can, Kisna’s own brother (Yashpal Sharma) baying for the British girl’s blood, a wicked Indian prince Raghuraj (Rajat Kapoor, hilariously hammy) lusting after her, Laxmi chasing them, communal riots and the works. Through the interminable journey, Kisna and Katherine wade through obstacles and hair’s breadth rescues with monotonous regularity. Some episodes are boring, some lit up by interesting performers like the one in which a courtesan (Sushmita Sen) and her sidekick (Om Puri) help the fugitives.
In typical Bollywood style, the costumes, dances and music are a kitschy blend, or how could you have a woman doing the rope mallakhamb (the incredibly lithe Isha reduced to an ‘item’ number) in North India in 1947; or women from Brahmin households dancing in public in strapless cholis; or a Broadway style chorus dance as a dream sequence.
Still, Kisna is watchable for Ashok Mehta making Uttaranchal’s rugged terrain look like fairyland. And for Antonia Bernath’s luminous presence. And Ismail Darbar-AR Rahman’s music. And for the valiant struggle of a successful filmmaker to not repeat himself and still find that elusive magic that makes film a box-office hit. Lofty goal apart, Ghai falls between two boats—the ‘masses’ would find the film too slow, the ‘classes’ would pick other holes in it. Whatever it may be, the time for 3-hour-plus marathons is clearly up, unless they are faced-paced and really unusual.
Labels: Cinemaah
Page 3
It was a subject begging to be lampooned or analysed seriously—this relatively new trend of people famous just for being seen at parties night after night. Even before the Page 3 culture was thus named, there were high society parties in Mumbai and there were people who filled empty guest lists, so what is it that makes Page 3 a phenomenon worth dissecting? That’s a question that needs answering seriously or humorously. Pity then that Madhur Bhandarkar’s Page 3 has neither wit nor depth—it’s a ponderous so-called expose on life in high places with the strident rich-are-bad-poor-are good tone that you thought went out with the generation of left leaning screenwriters.
Madhavi (Konkona Sensharma) is a middle-class Bangalore girl, who works for a Mumbai newspaper covering the Page 3 beat. Bhandarkar shoots parties with a manic camera, semi-clad girls swinging in the background as guests air kiss, gossip and network. What is wrong is not the partying, but the media’s slavering, with too much column space expended on them. Still, as the case of the NRI in the film illustrates, a Page 3 mention is enough to get a rich nobody a place in society. But Bhandarkar is not interested in criticising the media’s power despite this shallowness; his attitude seems to be that of the group of drivers standing outside making fun of their employers and their perverted lifestyles. It would make the ordinary viewer feel very good about the fact that they are not as morally empty as those rich people.
Madhavi shares her flat with an air hostess (Sandhya Mridul), who aims at hooking a rich man and does. The other is an aspiring actress (Tara Sharma) who gets depressed about a filmmaker’s pass, but goes on to have an affair with a married star (Bikram Saluja)
Most part of the film has these disjointed episodes (the starlet’s pregnancy and attempted suicide, Madhavi’s perfunctory romance with an upcoming model, the girls’ run in with a bully in their building, etc) about people, which lead to nothing in particular. Madhavi’s crime reporter colleague Vinayak (Atul Kulkarni), who seems to specialise in tipping off cops and then covering the raids, is contemptuous of her work. And Madhavi does a turnaround when a ‘good’ socialite commits suicide and her socialite friends come to the funeral to be seen and covered by the media– hardly a revelation!
But Madhavi now wants to be a ‘real’ journalist and is assigned the crime beat with Vinayak (as if the only real beat is crime reporting!). When she does a shocking expose the paper’s kind but helpless editor (Boman Irani) is forced to kill the story and sack her. Madhavi’s opportunistic boyfriend (Jai Kalra) turns out to be unfaithful (the only surprise in the film), and though she wins Vinayak’s respect, she is back to covering the party beat for another paper.
There are a few observations that make sense, but ultimately the film is as superficial, scattered and pointless as the people it tries to condemn and has terribly crude dialogue. Konkona SenSharma—a jhola-type journalist stereotype that filmmakers are stuck on—plays Madhavi with a surprising vacuousness, considering she has already proved her credentials as an actress. She leads a cast of actors who are a mix of very good (Boman Irani, Sandhya Mridul) or very bad (Bikram Saluja, Tara Sharma). Mumbai audiences might be amused at seeing some real Page 3 fixtures playing themselves in a sporting self-parody. The film should have been able to portray more of an irreverent quality, ironically it ends up paying tribute to Page 3, which couldn’t possibly have been the intention!
Madhavi (Konkona Sensharma) is a middle-class Bangalore girl, who works for a Mumbai newspaper covering the Page 3 beat. Bhandarkar shoots parties with a manic camera, semi-clad girls swinging in the background as guests air kiss, gossip and network. What is wrong is not the partying, but the media’s slavering, with too much column space expended on them. Still, as the case of the NRI in the film illustrates, a Page 3 mention is enough to get a rich nobody a place in society. But Bhandarkar is not interested in criticising the media’s power despite this shallowness; his attitude seems to be that of the group of drivers standing outside making fun of their employers and their perverted lifestyles. It would make the ordinary viewer feel very good about the fact that they are not as morally empty as those rich people.
Madhavi shares her flat with an air hostess (Sandhya Mridul), who aims at hooking a rich man and does. The other is an aspiring actress (Tara Sharma) who gets depressed about a filmmaker’s pass, but goes on to have an affair with a married star (Bikram Saluja)
Most part of the film has these disjointed episodes (the starlet’s pregnancy and attempted suicide, Madhavi’s perfunctory romance with an upcoming model, the girls’ run in with a bully in their building, etc) about people, which lead to nothing in particular. Madhavi’s crime reporter colleague Vinayak (Atul Kulkarni), who seems to specialise in tipping off cops and then covering the raids, is contemptuous of her work. And Madhavi does a turnaround when a ‘good’ socialite commits suicide and her socialite friends come to the funeral to be seen and covered by the media– hardly a revelation!
But Madhavi now wants to be a ‘real’ journalist and is assigned the crime beat with Vinayak (as if the only real beat is crime reporting!). When she does a shocking expose the paper’s kind but helpless editor (Boman Irani) is forced to kill the story and sack her. Madhavi’s opportunistic boyfriend (Jai Kalra) turns out to be unfaithful (the only surprise in the film), and though she wins Vinayak’s respect, she is back to covering the party beat for another paper.
There are a few observations that make sense, but ultimately the film is as superficial, scattered and pointless as the people it tries to condemn and has terribly crude dialogue. Konkona SenSharma—a jhola-type journalist stereotype that filmmakers are stuck on—plays Madhavi with a surprising vacuousness, considering she has already proved her credentials as an actress. She leads a cast of actors who are a mix of very good (Boman Irani, Sandhya Mridul) or very bad (Bikram Saluja, Tara Sharma). Mumbai audiences might be amused at seeing some real Page 3 fixtures playing themselves in a sporting self-parody. The film should have been able to portray more of an irreverent quality, ironically it ends up paying tribute to Page 3, which couldn’t possibly have been the intention!
Labels: Cinemaah
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Insan & Elaan
Terrorists are worried. Now that India and Pakistan are friends, they are out of work, so says the K.Subaash’s Insan. But a new set of militants spring up, led by a victim of the Gujarat riots.
Potboilers such as this, use a bit of reality, add their own masala, and come up with a barely palatable concoction, held together somehow by the actors. The saviour of Insan is Akshay Kumar, in the role of Amjad, an autorickshaw driver, with a lot of cheekily funny lines. He has a terrific entry too, when he single-handedly prevents a communal conflagration, by berating people of his own community.
Before meandering to the main cops-versus-terrorists plot, the film (based on a Telugu original), sets up a comic romance between Amjad and Heena (Esha Deol), whose parents don’t like her boyfriend. There is a forced subplot involving two star aspirants (Tusshar and Laila) and their experiences in the film industry—none of which connects to the story at hand.There is a dour cop Ajit Rathod (Ajay Devgan), whose wife (Koena Mitra) was killed by a terrorist Azhar (Rahul Dev), and he is now up against the same group killing masses of innocents to free another militant from jail. To complete the cast of characters is Lara Dutta, who hangs around just because the cop needs to be paired up with somebody.
Amjad is the good Muslim, speaking up on behalf of his community, and he is shocked to discover that his brother, missing for two years, is the terrorist the cops are after. The end, in which the brothers are pitted against each other is inevitable and so’s the resolution.The film makes fictional use of real events (like the Godhra train burning) just to set up elaborate action sequences; fortunately nobody takes such films seriously enough to worry about the constant political incorrectness.
Ajay Devgan sleepwalks through the part, though he has one hilarious scene in which Amjad seeks his help to impress Heena’s parents. Akshay is a delight to watch as he jumps into the role with gusto and delivers a performance with superb comic timing. The front-benchers will love him.
*********
If there’s anything remarkable about Vikram Bhatt’s Elaan it’s the return of Mithun Chakraborty to mainstream Hindi cinema, in the role of Baba Sikander, am internationally ‘wanted’ don. The actor plays the part with such dignity and control, that he ends up being more sympathetic than the laddish heroes.
Karan Shah (Rahul Khanna, looking lost) wants to avenge the death of his father at the hands of Baba’s goons. He pledges to drag the Venice-based don back to India to be punished for his crimes. For this, in classic Seven Samurai/ Five Man Army/ Sholay style, he hires a team – an ex-cop Arjun (Arjun Rampal), Abhimanyu (John Abraham) an old associate of Baba, who is sprung from jail for the mission. The two girls bar dancer Sonia (Lara Dutta) and TV journalist Priya (Amisha Patel) join up to provide the glamour, but for a change they also participate actively in the action.
Baba lives the life of a lord, surrounded by his loyal men, Chunky Pandey and Milind Gunaji among them. Once the three man-two woman army comes together in Venice, there is nothing but one action sequence after another, punctuated by a couple of pace-halting, badly choreographed songs. The snow-covered European locations are spectacular and you can’t help thinking of the noise and pollution our film units must be responsible for in those pristine places. Also it seems strange that Indian people run about Italian and German streets shooting at one another, without the local cops ever looking up to see what’s going on!
But who expects sense and logic from a film like this—Elaan might even have been watchable if it didn’t sag (back stories of the characters are boring) in so many places and just moved faster than the speed of thought. The climax is strangely weak, after all the blood and bluster spent before the final capture of Baba.Mithun Chakraborty is so vastly superior to all the other actors put together, that there is really no comparison, but John Abraham’s ‘tapori’ act gets a few laughs.
Potboilers such as this, use a bit of reality, add their own masala, and come up with a barely palatable concoction, held together somehow by the actors. The saviour of Insan is Akshay Kumar, in the role of Amjad, an autorickshaw driver, with a lot of cheekily funny lines. He has a terrific entry too, when he single-handedly prevents a communal conflagration, by berating people of his own community.
Before meandering to the main cops-versus-terrorists plot, the film (based on a Telugu original), sets up a comic romance between Amjad and Heena (Esha Deol), whose parents don’t like her boyfriend. There is a forced subplot involving two star aspirants (Tusshar and Laila) and their experiences in the film industry—none of which connects to the story at hand.There is a dour cop Ajit Rathod (Ajay Devgan), whose wife (Koena Mitra) was killed by a terrorist Azhar (Rahul Dev), and he is now up against the same group killing masses of innocents to free another militant from jail. To complete the cast of characters is Lara Dutta, who hangs around just because the cop needs to be paired up with somebody.
Amjad is the good Muslim, speaking up on behalf of his community, and he is shocked to discover that his brother, missing for two years, is the terrorist the cops are after. The end, in which the brothers are pitted against each other is inevitable and so’s the resolution.The film makes fictional use of real events (like the Godhra train burning) just to set up elaborate action sequences; fortunately nobody takes such films seriously enough to worry about the constant political incorrectness.
Ajay Devgan sleepwalks through the part, though he has one hilarious scene in which Amjad seeks his help to impress Heena’s parents. Akshay is a delight to watch as he jumps into the role with gusto and delivers a performance with superb comic timing. The front-benchers will love him.
*********
If there’s anything remarkable about Vikram Bhatt’s Elaan it’s the return of Mithun Chakraborty to mainstream Hindi cinema, in the role of Baba Sikander, am internationally ‘wanted’ don. The actor plays the part with such dignity and control, that he ends up being more sympathetic than the laddish heroes.
Karan Shah (Rahul Khanna, looking lost) wants to avenge the death of his father at the hands of Baba’s goons. He pledges to drag the Venice-based don back to India to be punished for his crimes. For this, in classic Seven Samurai/ Five Man Army/ Sholay style, he hires a team – an ex-cop Arjun (Arjun Rampal), Abhimanyu (John Abraham) an old associate of Baba, who is sprung from jail for the mission. The two girls bar dancer Sonia (Lara Dutta) and TV journalist Priya (Amisha Patel) join up to provide the glamour, but for a change they also participate actively in the action.
Baba lives the life of a lord, surrounded by his loyal men, Chunky Pandey and Milind Gunaji among them. Once the three man-two woman army comes together in Venice, there is nothing but one action sequence after another, punctuated by a couple of pace-halting, badly choreographed songs. The snow-covered European locations are spectacular and you can’t help thinking of the noise and pollution our film units must be responsible for in those pristine places. Also it seems strange that Indian people run about Italian and German streets shooting at one another, without the local cops ever looking up to see what’s going on!
But who expects sense and logic from a film like this—Elaan might even have been watchable if it didn’t sag (back stories of the characters are boring) in so many places and just moved faster than the speed of thought. The climax is strangely weak, after all the blood and bluster spent before the final capture of Baba.Mithun Chakraborty is so vastly superior to all the other actors put together, that there is really no comparison, but John Abraham’s ‘tapori’ act gets a few laughs.
Labels: Cinemaah
Vaada & Rog
When our ‘cut-paste’ directors don’t get to copy a film almost frame by frame, the best they can come with is a Vaada.
Satish Kaushik’s film must be one of the most boring and addled thrillers (of one can call it that) of all time.
The film begins with the suicide of Pooja (Amisha Patel), and the rest is all about who ‘murdered’ her—husband Rahul (Arjun Rampal) or former boyfriend Karan (Zayed Khan).
Rahul married a supposedly famous singer, but after that all she does is dress up and pout. He loses his sight in an accident, and of all people in the world, gets Karan as his business partner. Karan used to be the obsessive lover type who went “to Europe” to make money in order to marry Pooja. He waited tables and drove cabs, but returned after two years in a Merc, only to find his girlfriend married to another man.
The reason for Pooja’s death is quite absurd, but what follows is even more brainless. As a moronic ‘chana’-popping cop bumbles around trying to investigate, Karan is convinced Rahul killed Pooja, and uses childish pranks to try to prove he is not blind. The case goes court, and instead of focusing on whether the woman was murdered or hanged herself, goes on and on about whether Rahul is blind or not. Rather foolish this assumption that a blind man cannot kill if he wants to!
There are too many flaws in the narrative to even start listing them here, but the most jarring is that Pooja lives in a huge, isolated house with just one doddering servant; and when she is stalked by Karan, it doesn’t occur to her to call the cops, but tries to reach her husband who is abroad. How come female characters in films never seem to have friends, relatives, neighbours, security guards or anyone they can turn to for help?
Two blank-faced clotheshorse actors, and one madly hammy Zayed Khan make the film even more unwatchable.
**********
The Bhatts should be given credit for at least one thing – they went all the way back to 1944 to pick up Otto Preminger’s noir thriller Laura with the stunning Gene Tierney in the title role.
Writer Mahesh Bhatt and director Himanshu Brahmbhatt don’t even bother to change the characters from the original, which seems rather quaint now, but not totally outdated. If Rog doesn’t work, it’s because the director is unable to create either the eerie mood or that sense of inexplicable melancholy that was needed; and the biggest problem with this film is that the bland, dull-looking Ilene Hamann simply does not have that overpowering sex appeal that could make you believe that even as a corpse she could haunt men. If just showing yards of skin could be a turn on, every item girl would be a star!
Inspector Uday Rathod (Irrfan Khan), whose loneliness and mental turmoil is established right off with a confession to a shrink in the opening scene, falls in love with a dead woman, (Ilene Hamann) whose murder he is investigating.
Prime suspects are Maya’s boyfriend, the gigolo-like social climber Ali, (Himanshu Malik with all the charm of a rusted nail), her mentor, “famous” journalist Harsh (Suhel Seth playing the part with a whining voice and clownish manner) and her rich socialite aunt (Shyamoli Varma doing a very bad imitation of Nadira).
Uday, despite the warnings of his buddy (Munish Makhija) gets obsessed with the case and falls in love with the dead woman. Revealing more would be a spoiler for the unfortunates who might venture into the film, but whatever happens is as boring as hell.
Irrfan Khan, with his brooding manner and expressive eyes is the only one who carries off his role with conviction, giving it the right amount of madness, humour and pathos. What a pity he wastes prodigious effort in a dead-end film. Just putting rain and thunder in the background and using muted lighting is not enough to create atmosphere. Rog just looks pretentious and it’s tough to tell if the turgid lines are more laughable or the batty performances.
Satish Kaushik’s film must be one of the most boring and addled thrillers (of one can call it that) of all time.
The film begins with the suicide of Pooja (Amisha Patel), and the rest is all about who ‘murdered’ her—husband Rahul (Arjun Rampal) or former boyfriend Karan (Zayed Khan).
Rahul married a supposedly famous singer, but after that all she does is dress up and pout. He loses his sight in an accident, and of all people in the world, gets Karan as his business partner. Karan used to be the obsessive lover type who went “to Europe” to make money in order to marry Pooja. He waited tables and drove cabs, but returned after two years in a Merc, only to find his girlfriend married to another man.
The reason for Pooja’s death is quite absurd, but what follows is even more brainless. As a moronic ‘chana’-popping cop bumbles around trying to investigate, Karan is convinced Rahul killed Pooja, and uses childish pranks to try to prove he is not blind. The case goes court, and instead of focusing on whether the woman was murdered or hanged herself, goes on and on about whether Rahul is blind or not. Rather foolish this assumption that a blind man cannot kill if he wants to!
There are too many flaws in the narrative to even start listing them here, but the most jarring is that Pooja lives in a huge, isolated house with just one doddering servant; and when she is stalked by Karan, it doesn’t occur to her to call the cops, but tries to reach her husband who is abroad. How come female characters in films never seem to have friends, relatives, neighbours, security guards or anyone they can turn to for help?
Two blank-faced clotheshorse actors, and one madly hammy Zayed Khan make the film even more unwatchable.
**********
The Bhatts should be given credit for at least one thing – they went all the way back to 1944 to pick up Otto Preminger’s noir thriller Laura with the stunning Gene Tierney in the title role.
Writer Mahesh Bhatt and director Himanshu Brahmbhatt don’t even bother to change the characters from the original, which seems rather quaint now, but not totally outdated. If Rog doesn’t work, it’s because the director is unable to create either the eerie mood or that sense of inexplicable melancholy that was needed; and the biggest problem with this film is that the bland, dull-looking Ilene Hamann simply does not have that overpowering sex appeal that could make you believe that even as a corpse she could haunt men. If just showing yards of skin could be a turn on, every item girl would be a star!
Inspector Uday Rathod (Irrfan Khan), whose loneliness and mental turmoil is established right off with a confession to a shrink in the opening scene, falls in love with a dead woman, (Ilene Hamann) whose murder he is investigating.
Prime suspects are Maya’s boyfriend, the gigolo-like social climber Ali, (Himanshu Malik with all the charm of a rusted nail), her mentor, “famous” journalist Harsh (Suhel Seth playing the part with a whining voice and clownish manner) and her rich socialite aunt (Shyamoli Varma doing a very bad imitation of Nadira).
Uday, despite the warnings of his buddy (Munish Makhija) gets obsessed with the case and falls in love with the dead woman. Revealing more would be a spoiler for the unfortunates who might venture into the film, but whatever happens is as boring as hell.
Irrfan Khan, with his brooding manner and expressive eyes is the only one who carries off his role with conviction, giving it the right amount of madness, humour and pathos. What a pity he wastes prodigious effort in a dead-end film. Just putting rain and thunder in the background and using muted lighting is not enough to create atmosphere. Rog just looks pretentious and it’s tough to tell if the turgid lines are more laughable or the batty performances.
Labels: Cinemaah
Amu
Full marks to Shonali Bose’s Amu for earnestness. She wanted to make a film about the mystery surrounding the mass murder of Sikhs in 1984, after Indira Gandhi’s assassination (the films talking about this horrifying slice of contemporary history can be counted on the fingers of one hand), but chose a rather flimsy back-to-roots story as the medium.
Kaju (Konkona Sensharma), adopted by LA-based activist (Brinda Karat) comes to Delhi to look for her birth parents and finds there is a reluctance on the part of her genial Bengali family to tel her anything. She finds an ally in uppercurst “bourgeoise snob” Kabir (Ankur Khanna), and her real past starts getting revealed in bits.One knows all along that her parents must have been killed in the riots and there is no surprise there, but Bose with able support from her actors, still manages to keep the interest in the proceedings flowing. Her slice of Delhi life from the elite to the “jhuggis” is bang –on, the ambience, the language, the clothes. The riot sequences are powerfully done too.
But what’s strikes one as odd is the insinuation that there is a conspiracy of silence about the genocide and that the filmmaker has uncovered something that was hidden. The climax is also very tame (okay so the heroine has found out what happened to her parents, so what next?), with a very forced reference to the Godhra incident.Anyway, Amu is a sincere debut--Bose has made documentaries earlier and gives the film a kind of authenticity that is appealing. That, and the performances of Konkona Sensharma and Brinda Karat. Worth a look.
Kaju (Konkona Sensharma), adopted by LA-based activist (Brinda Karat) comes to Delhi to look for her birth parents and finds there is a reluctance on the part of her genial Bengali family to tel her anything. She finds an ally in uppercurst “bourgeoise snob” Kabir (Ankur Khanna), and her real past starts getting revealed in bits.One knows all along that her parents must have been killed in the riots and there is no surprise there, but Bose with able support from her actors, still manages to keep the interest in the proceedings flowing. Her slice of Delhi life from the elite to the “jhuggis” is bang –on, the ambience, the language, the clothes. The riot sequences are powerfully done too.
But what’s strikes one as odd is the insinuation that there is a conspiracy of silence about the genocide and that the filmmaker has uncovered something that was hidden. The climax is also very tame (okay so the heroine has found out what happened to her parents, so what next?), with a very forced reference to the Godhra incident.Anyway, Amu is a sincere debut--Bose has made documentaries earlier and gives the film a kind of authenticity that is appealing. That, and the performances of Konkona Sensharma and Brinda Karat. Worth a look.
Labels: Cinemaah
Dil Maange More
Hindi cinema still has a quaint Veer-Zaara-like, ‘once is forever’ kind of attitude to love; in that sense Ananth Narayan Mahadevan’s Dil Maange More has a fresh, contemporary plot. It is possible to give up love for ambition and it is possible to fall out of love. It’s about time our films grew up!
Hill town boy Nikhil (Shahid Kapoor) is in love with Neha (Soha Ali Khan), who decides to give him up for a career as an air hostess. He follows her to Mumbai, where he falls in love with Sarah (Tulip Joshi), who works in a music store. Sarah dumps him when her straying fiancé returns and the twice heartbroken Nikhil falls for his Mumbai neighbour Shagun (Ayesha Takia), who seems to hate him. At one point, without meaning to, he is stuck with three women demanding his love.
The nice thing is that Nikhil is really a sweet, sincere chap, not the skirt-chasing stud you see as heroes in films these days. Despite the confusion over three girls, there is no crudity in the film, and the comedy is really squeaky clean. Best of all, neither of the two ‘rejected’ girls turns out to be a vengeful shrew.
Nikhil does seem to be a shallow type of guy, who has nothing to do but fall in and out of love with amazing speed. The way Neha describes her bad work experience as an air hostess (“I almost lost my izzat”—oh yeah??) is also not convincing, and Shagun has too much of a pop-psycho characterization. But one shouldn’t expect too much depth from a film obviously aimed at a bubblegum audience.
To its credit, it moves at a brisk trot—except for the elongated and very corny climax. It looks glossy, the characters dress well, dance well and don’t go through any great mind-bending soul-altering experiences. It’s a see it, enjoy it, forget it kind of film! Date movie they call them these days.
Shahid Kapoor has oodles of charm (unfortunately still a major Shah Rukh Khan hangover), dances beautifully and does the comic scenes really well. Of the girls, none can act, but Ayesha Takia has the best part. A likeable supporting cast (Gulshan Grover, Kanwaljeet, Zarina Wahab, Smita Jayker), lots of movie ‘in’ references and peppy songs (Himesh Reshammiya) add to the film’s appeal.
Hill town boy Nikhil (Shahid Kapoor) is in love with Neha (Soha Ali Khan), who decides to give him up for a career as an air hostess. He follows her to Mumbai, where he falls in love with Sarah (Tulip Joshi), who works in a music store. Sarah dumps him when her straying fiancé returns and the twice heartbroken Nikhil falls for his Mumbai neighbour Shagun (Ayesha Takia), who seems to hate him. At one point, without meaning to, he is stuck with three women demanding his love.
The nice thing is that Nikhil is really a sweet, sincere chap, not the skirt-chasing stud you see as heroes in films these days. Despite the confusion over three girls, there is no crudity in the film, and the comedy is really squeaky clean. Best of all, neither of the two ‘rejected’ girls turns out to be a vengeful shrew.
Nikhil does seem to be a shallow type of guy, who has nothing to do but fall in and out of love with amazing speed. The way Neha describes her bad work experience as an air hostess (“I almost lost my izzat”—oh yeah??) is also not convincing, and Shagun has too much of a pop-psycho characterization. But one shouldn’t expect too much depth from a film obviously aimed at a bubblegum audience.
To its credit, it moves at a brisk trot—except for the elongated and very corny climax. It looks glossy, the characters dress well, dance well and don’t go through any great mind-bending soul-altering experiences. It’s a see it, enjoy it, forget it kind of film! Date movie they call them these days.
Shahid Kapoor has oodles of charm (unfortunately still a major Shah Rukh Khan hangover), dances beautifully and does the comic scenes really well. Of the girls, none can act, but Ayesha Takia has the best part. A likeable supporting cast (Gulshan Grover, Kanwaljeet, Zarina Wahab, Smita Jayker), lots of movie ‘in’ references and peppy songs (Himesh Reshammiya) add to the film’s appeal.
Labels: Cinemaah
What Santa Got Us!
Aabra Ka Daabra
Dheeraj Kumar’s 3D Plus film Aabra Ka Daabra is Harry Potter meets Arabian Nights without a fraction of the entertainment value of the two.
Set in a school of magic run by the evil RB (Tiara), where the hero Shanu (Athit Naik) comes to learn magic to follow in his dead father’s footsteps, Aabra Ka Daabra is full of item numbers, a few thrills and clumsy in-film advertising.
Shanu finds out that his father is not dead, and with the help of friends like Limo (Anupam Kher), Pyara (Satish Kaushik), his teachers, two loyal classmates (Hansika Motwani, Esha Trivedi) and a cute animated elf Chuchu, he sets out to rescue him.
The décor and costumes are outlandish, and characters talk like they were in a particularly bad nautanki.
Adults would find the film as painful as a root canal, not to mention the eye strain caused by the 3D visuals —but there is every possibility that kids would enjoy it very much. Though, urban kids might compare it --unfavourably -- with the Harry Potter movies.
Ab Tumhare Hawale Watan Sathiyo
When Anil Sharma, who made two of the most rabidly anti Pakistan films in recent times (Gadar and Hero) professes to have a change of heart and make a film dedicated to Indo-Pak friendship, it sounds strange.
Then, his Ab Tumhare Hawale Watan Sathiyo starts off with Paki-bashing in a lengthy prologue set during the Bangladesh War-- rather well done battle sequences on the high seas—in which armyman Amarjeet Singh (Amitabh Bachchan) loses his son (Bobby Deol).
Years later his grandson Kunal (Deol in a double role) reluctantly joins the army, though his heart is not in it. Kunal falls in love with Shweta (Divya Khosla), a war widow, and by the time she reciprocates, her husband Rajiv (Akshay Kumar) returns, after having escaped from a hellish Pakistani prison.
This portion – inspired by Pearl Harbour—contains two tedious flashbacks (one within the other), then the writer (Shaktimaan) and director Sharma suddenly seem to remember that this is meant to be a war film and they have expended too much time on a love tangle. So it’s back to the battlefield, where Kunal tries to live up to the family’s reputation and fails. While he is going through his romantic and moral dilemmas, an evil Pakistani (Ashutosh Rana) and his cohorts are planning to bomb the Amarnath Yatra.
The film goes on forever in a painful, convoluted way, trying to fit in too many sub-plots and not getting the audience absorbed in any. There are two love triangles—there is an army doctor (Sandali Sinha) in love with Kunal too—the Amarjeet-Kunal imbroglio, and the army manouvres all tossed into the film in a haphazard way, in the vain hope that something will click.
After all the anti-Pak sentiment expressed throughout, there is an artificial about turn in the end when the very man (Danny Denzonga) who had tortured Rajiv in prison, now starts spouting pro-India sentiments.
It’s not too tough for Amitabh Bachchan to tower over Bobby Deol who can’t act at all, and the irritating shayari-spouting character Akshay Kumar plays, trying to copy Manoj Kumar. The girls are merely decorative props.
Sharma stages spectacular action sequences and the songs are extravagantly picturised too, but the film taxes the viewer’s patience to breaking point.
Dheeraj Kumar’s 3D Plus film Aabra Ka Daabra is Harry Potter meets Arabian Nights without a fraction of the entertainment value of the two.
Set in a school of magic run by the evil RB (Tiara), where the hero Shanu (Athit Naik) comes to learn magic to follow in his dead father’s footsteps, Aabra Ka Daabra is full of item numbers, a few thrills and clumsy in-film advertising.
Shanu finds out that his father is not dead, and with the help of friends like Limo (Anupam Kher), Pyara (Satish Kaushik), his teachers, two loyal classmates (Hansika Motwani, Esha Trivedi) and a cute animated elf Chuchu, he sets out to rescue him.
The décor and costumes are outlandish, and characters talk like they were in a particularly bad nautanki.
Adults would find the film as painful as a root canal, not to mention the eye strain caused by the 3D visuals —but there is every possibility that kids would enjoy it very much. Though, urban kids might compare it --unfavourably -- with the Harry Potter movies.
Ab Tumhare Hawale Watan Sathiyo
When Anil Sharma, who made two of the most rabidly anti Pakistan films in recent times (Gadar and Hero) professes to have a change of heart and make a film dedicated to Indo-Pak friendship, it sounds strange.
Then, his Ab Tumhare Hawale Watan Sathiyo starts off with Paki-bashing in a lengthy prologue set during the Bangladesh War-- rather well done battle sequences on the high seas—in which armyman Amarjeet Singh (Amitabh Bachchan) loses his son (Bobby Deol).
Years later his grandson Kunal (Deol in a double role) reluctantly joins the army, though his heart is not in it. Kunal falls in love with Shweta (Divya Khosla), a war widow, and by the time she reciprocates, her husband Rajiv (Akshay Kumar) returns, after having escaped from a hellish Pakistani prison.
This portion – inspired by Pearl Harbour—contains two tedious flashbacks (one within the other), then the writer (Shaktimaan) and director Sharma suddenly seem to remember that this is meant to be a war film and they have expended too much time on a love tangle. So it’s back to the battlefield, where Kunal tries to live up to the family’s reputation and fails. While he is going through his romantic and moral dilemmas, an evil Pakistani (Ashutosh Rana) and his cohorts are planning to bomb the Amarnath Yatra.
The film goes on forever in a painful, convoluted way, trying to fit in too many sub-plots and not getting the audience absorbed in any. There are two love triangles—there is an army doctor (Sandali Sinha) in love with Kunal too—the Amarjeet-Kunal imbroglio, and the army manouvres all tossed into the film in a haphazard way, in the vain hope that something will click.
After all the anti-Pak sentiment expressed throughout, there is an artificial about turn in the end when the very man (Danny Denzonga) who had tortured Rajiv in prison, now starts spouting pro-India sentiments.
It’s not too tough for Amitabh Bachchan to tower over Bobby Deol who can’t act at all, and the irritating shayari-spouting character Akshay Kumar plays, trying to copy Manoj Kumar. The girls are merely decorative props.
Sharma stages spectacular action sequences and the songs are extravagantly picturised too, but the film taxes the viewer’s patience to breaking point.
Labels: Cinemaah
Raincoat
Inspired by O Henry, directed by Rituparno Ghosh—it should have been a winning combination. If Raincoat doesn’t quite make the grade, it’s because it tries to stretch a short story to a full length feature, and cannot quite fill the gaps to make the happenings interesting to the viewer. The melancholic mood, long silences, inane conversations in mostly one location, a world inhabited by unhappy people—it would take a particularly hardy cinematic constitution to digest.
Newly unemployed Manoj (Ajay Devgan) comes to Kolkata from Bhagalpur to raise seed capital for a business from old school mates. While he encounters incredible kindness from friends, an old wound still gnaws and he must go and see childhood sweetheart Neerja (Aishwarya Rai), who had dumped him for a man with better prospects.
On a rainy day, in a borrowed raincoat, he lands up at her doorstep. Neerja lives in an old, gloomy house and the two obviously miserable people concoct colourful lies to prove to the other that they are happy and successful.
In a touching O Henry twist, both find out the other was lying and the ending is worthy of a Rituparno Ghosh film.
Ajay Devgan is such a wonderful actor, and his emotional responses are just right, but he looks and sounds all wrong for the part—no trace of a Bihari accent, gym-toned body, appearing not in the least poor or desperate.
Aishwarya Rai, with her dishevelled look, could pass off as a middle class housewife—but whose idea was to have her bra strap show all the time? Or paint her eyes in exaggerated hues of anguish. Her coquettish act grates after a point.
Plus points-- evocative music (Debjyoti Mishra), superb camerawork (Abhik Mukhopadhyay) and a lip smackingly wicked cameo by Annu Kapoor.
Newly unemployed Manoj (Ajay Devgan) comes to Kolkata from Bhagalpur to raise seed capital for a business from old school mates. While he encounters incredible kindness from friends, an old wound still gnaws and he must go and see childhood sweetheart Neerja (Aishwarya Rai), who had dumped him for a man with better prospects.
On a rainy day, in a borrowed raincoat, he lands up at her doorstep. Neerja lives in an old, gloomy house and the two obviously miserable people concoct colourful lies to prove to the other that they are happy and successful.
In a touching O Henry twist, both find out the other was lying and the ending is worthy of a Rituparno Ghosh film.
Ajay Devgan is such a wonderful actor, and his emotional responses are just right, but he looks and sounds all wrong for the part—no trace of a Bihari accent, gym-toned body, appearing not in the least poor or desperate.
Aishwarya Rai, with her dishevelled look, could pass off as a middle class housewife—but whose idea was to have her bra strap show all the time? Or paint her eyes in exaggerated hues of anguish. Her coquettish act grates after a point.
Plus points-- evocative music (Debjyoti Mishra), superb camerawork (Abhik Mukhopadhyay) and a lip smackingly wicked cameo by Annu Kapoor.
Labels: Cinemaah
Swades: We The People
Once again, after Lagaan, Ashutosh Gowarikar attempts a film that does not fall under any current trend or set formula. Swades: We The People has that quality rare for commercial cinema –it has a point of view, a straightforward message and a format as realistic as possible within the constraints imposed on mainstream films. It is a well-intentioned film, has its heart in the right place, waves the right flags, and it is heartbreaking to see it fail in more ways than it succeeds.
Gowarikar sets his film in rural India and resists the picture postcard village of and the clichéd imagery of ‘Bollywood’ – no village belles swaying by the well, no coordinated dancing in the fields.
But then the realism of Swades is just halfway there—woefully short on research, authenticity, attention to detail or understanding of ground realities in Uttar Pradesh, where it is set.
So, NASA scientist Mohan Bhargava (Shah Rukh Khan), gets sudden guilt pangs for neglecting his childhood nanny for 12 years, so on an impulse flies to India and drives in a caravan straight to fictional UP village of Charanpur.
There lives Kaveri Amma (Kishori Ballal) with stern young school teacher Geeta (Gayatri Joshi) and her kid brother (Smit Seth). A few jokey moments (very unfunny encounters with a couple of village comedians), Mohan is exposed to the ugly side of this bucolic paradise.
Electricity supply is erratic, there is one phone in the post office, casteism prevents lower caste kids from attending Geeta’s school and a stuffy Panchayat made up of Brahmins talking “sanskar and parampara” with a sole token Muslim woman, sneer at Mohan’s foreign ways.
But having given a very superficial view of the problems besetting Charanpur, Mohan (and Gowarikar) have quick fix solutions. One song and the caste problem is eradicated, one sermon (on why we are such lazy louts) and there is an army to build a small hydel project, one social visit to the sarpanch’s home, and the gender issue (female illiteracy) is tackled.
It’s as if, these very elementary things did not occur to local NGOs, and that it takes a ‘Gee-Whiz’ NRI to come and wave a magic wand. And as if all NRIs packing their bags and returning to India will mean an end to all our troubles!
You don’t see how horrifying repercussions of the casteism and communalism can be, or just how deep-rooted the sexism is, or how ignorance, corruption and superstition have such a strong grip on rural India, that large chunks of people remain tragically backward. In one snigger-inducing conversation, Geeta actually defends the government’s efforts at solving social issues – that would surprise even UP politicians! On the other hand, in a village as prosperous looking as Charanpur, there is no television, no STD booths and no cars—when was the last time Gowarikar took a peek at a North Indian village?
Mohan has been away from India just 12 years, yet the sight of a boy selling water at a station moves him to tears, the story of a weaver driven to penury (the man speaking almost poetic, urban Hindi) makes his eyes water and he is appalled that Charanpur has electricity problems? Mr Bhargava of NASA with such deep nostalgia for his homeland, never heard or read of starvation deaths, farmers’ suicides, droughts and epidemics?
Okay, so Gowarikar wanted to hint at the problems without going to deep, or disturbing the entertainment seeking Shah Rukh Khan fan too much. Fine, that is acceptable, but what about the elements that make a story interesting? Where is the real conflict? (remember Insaan Jaag Utha or Manthan in a similar genre?) Where are the emotional highs? Where is the soul-churning? Where is the wrenching sacrifice? Where is the ennobling love? Where is the metaphorical mountain that Mohan Bhargava must climb to be deemed a hero of our times?
Gowarikar may not have been able to resist platitudes, but he is an accomplished filmmaker, so there are, unexpectedly poignant moments—like the water-seller at the station carefully counting change to return to Mohan as the train pulls away; or the starving farmer depriving his own family of a meal to feed Mohan; or Mohan finally dumping his mineral water bottle for a drink of dirty water from a ‘kulhad’, or the group of oppressed little girls breaking into an exuberant dance.
Shah Rukh Khan has been able to give a performance of such sincerity that you want to believe in the character’s simplistic zeal. Unfortunately the rest of the cast can’t keep pace. Look at Gayatri Joshi’s ramp gait and manicured nails, or Kishori Ballal’s pronounced South Indian accent and chic ethnic saris and you can see Khan’s homework is sound.
Maybe Swades, using Shah Rukh Khan’s massive star power, was meant to exhort all of us to do our bit for the country—a very noble thought and if it succeeds in inspiring a few Page 3 wastrels, Swades would be considered a masterpiece in retrospect.
Gowarikar sets his film in rural India and resists the picture postcard village of and the clichéd imagery of ‘Bollywood’ – no village belles swaying by the well, no coordinated dancing in the fields.
But then the realism of Swades is just halfway there—woefully short on research, authenticity, attention to detail or understanding of ground realities in Uttar Pradesh, where it is set.
So, NASA scientist Mohan Bhargava (Shah Rukh Khan), gets sudden guilt pangs for neglecting his childhood nanny for 12 years, so on an impulse flies to India and drives in a caravan straight to fictional UP village of Charanpur.
There lives Kaveri Amma (Kishori Ballal) with stern young school teacher Geeta (Gayatri Joshi) and her kid brother (Smit Seth). A few jokey moments (very unfunny encounters with a couple of village comedians), Mohan is exposed to the ugly side of this bucolic paradise.
Electricity supply is erratic, there is one phone in the post office, casteism prevents lower caste kids from attending Geeta’s school and a stuffy Panchayat made up of Brahmins talking “sanskar and parampara” with a sole token Muslim woman, sneer at Mohan’s foreign ways.
But having given a very superficial view of the problems besetting Charanpur, Mohan (and Gowarikar) have quick fix solutions. One song and the caste problem is eradicated, one sermon (on why we are such lazy louts) and there is an army to build a small hydel project, one social visit to the sarpanch’s home, and the gender issue (female illiteracy) is tackled.
It’s as if, these very elementary things did not occur to local NGOs, and that it takes a ‘Gee-Whiz’ NRI to come and wave a magic wand. And as if all NRIs packing their bags and returning to India will mean an end to all our troubles!
You don’t see how horrifying repercussions of the casteism and communalism can be, or just how deep-rooted the sexism is, or how ignorance, corruption and superstition have such a strong grip on rural India, that large chunks of people remain tragically backward. In one snigger-inducing conversation, Geeta actually defends the government’s efforts at solving social issues – that would surprise even UP politicians! On the other hand, in a village as prosperous looking as Charanpur, there is no television, no STD booths and no cars—when was the last time Gowarikar took a peek at a North Indian village?
Mohan has been away from India just 12 years, yet the sight of a boy selling water at a station moves him to tears, the story of a weaver driven to penury (the man speaking almost poetic, urban Hindi) makes his eyes water and he is appalled that Charanpur has electricity problems? Mr Bhargava of NASA with such deep nostalgia for his homeland, never heard or read of starvation deaths, farmers’ suicides, droughts and epidemics?
Okay, so Gowarikar wanted to hint at the problems without going to deep, or disturbing the entertainment seeking Shah Rukh Khan fan too much. Fine, that is acceptable, but what about the elements that make a story interesting? Where is the real conflict? (remember Insaan Jaag Utha or Manthan in a similar genre?) Where are the emotional highs? Where is the soul-churning? Where is the wrenching sacrifice? Where is the ennobling love? Where is the metaphorical mountain that Mohan Bhargava must climb to be deemed a hero of our times?
Gowarikar may not have been able to resist platitudes, but he is an accomplished filmmaker, so there are, unexpectedly poignant moments—like the water-seller at the station carefully counting change to return to Mohan as the train pulls away; or the starving farmer depriving his own family of a meal to feed Mohan; or Mohan finally dumping his mineral water bottle for a drink of dirty water from a ‘kulhad’, or the group of oppressed little girls breaking into an exuberant dance.
Shah Rukh Khan has been able to give a performance of such sincerity that you want to believe in the character’s simplistic zeal. Unfortunately the rest of the cast can’t keep pace. Look at Gayatri Joshi’s ramp gait and manicured nails, or Kishori Ballal’s pronounced South Indian accent and chic ethnic saris and you can see Khan’s homework is sound.
Maybe Swades, using Shah Rukh Khan’s massive star power, was meant to exhort all of us to do our bit for the country—a very noble thought and if it succeeds in inspiring a few Page 3 wastrels, Swades would be considered a masterpiece in retrospect.
Labels: Cinemaah
Musafir and RSTRL
A borrowed plot, sluggish pace, crass rambling dialogue and a script that often shoots itself in the foot, Sanjay Gupta’s Musafir has so much over-the-top style, that it is unwatchable.
A down-on-his luck gangster, ironically named Lucky (Anil Kapoor) runs afoul of bigger gangster Billa (Sanjay Dutt), when his girlfriend Lara (Koena Mitra) runs off with stolen millions. Lucky is given a chance to save his life by the whimsical Billa, which, for some inexplicable reason requires going to Goa to do a fairly simple money-for-drugs swap. This also gets messed up because a ruthless Goan cop called Tiger (Aditya Panscholi) gets on to Lucky’s case.
In spite of Billa cracking the whip (or rather barking over the cell phone), Lucky finds the time to fall in love with Sam (Sameera Reddy), who is married to a lout Luka (Mahesh Manjrekar), and manages to wrap Lucky around her finger with a sob story of child abuse. Luka tells Lucky another sob story about how the young ‘Lolita’ wrecked his life and begs him to kill Sam.
Lucky, who has ‘sucker’ stamped all over him, gets trapped into one dead end after another, till Billa decides that “the story is coming to an and there has been no action.” He speaks for the audience almost falling asleep, with nothing happening – that too in sepia tones and flashy music video editing. Though you appreciate the labour that has gone into all this gimmickry, it still ends up leaving you headachy and cross-eyed!
Billa leads the film to a very unsatisfactory climax and an uncharacteristic happy ending that makes you wondering how come nobody will count the bodies of all those Goan cops shot by Lucky and Billa.
The actors have all been carefully and ostentatiously styled – Sanjay Dutt has played the bhai in so many films that the only way you can tell him apart in this film is by the gold teeth and a funky weapon he swings like a key chain. Anil Kapoor gets spiky hair and grungy wardrobe, while Sameera Reddy gets a bronzed look and skimpy clothes, which don’t make her look in the least bit sexy— she could try acting next time.
So after seeing what a good cameraman and a good special effects studio can do, you still need to know what the heck’s going on in the film.
Sanjay Gupta probably imagines himself to be India’s answer to Quentin Tarantino and Oliver Stone ( U-Turn is his basic source of inspiration for Musafir), but the film just makes him look like an overeager debutant trying to show off his technical skills. If after making so many films (all plagiarized), Gupta still needs to come up with this cinematic swagger, he ought to be sent back to film school to clear his mind of Hollywood junk.
***********
Why bother to rip off an old teen flick if there is nothing fresh to say. Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander was a well made but standard issue youth movie, so it’s new version Rok Sako To Rok Lo by Arindam Chaudhuri offers just a load of déjà vu.
The management guru and first-time filmmaker tries to make up for lack of directorial skills by throwing money into the movie. Unfortunately, with a no-go script, the money doesn’t go too far.
Newcomers Yash Pandit and Manjari lead a group of losers in Bharti School—they are broke, brainless and not even good at sports. The boys seem to spend all their time teasing girls and grumbling about the more privileged students at the posh Valley High School led by Ranveer (Carran Kapur). It takes a mysterious biker Kabir or ‘Phantom’ (Sunny Deol) to motivate this bunch of dorks.
There is a predictable love triangle, too— how can there be a teen slick without the obligatory romance? Then, there is an additional element of ‘national integration’ as Yash’s group comes from diverse regional groups; there are the usual stereotypes-- a Sardarji, a Tamilian, a Bengali family. And of course the marathon in the climax, which the ‘loser’ has to win after crossing many hurdles!
None of the young cast is particularly impressive and the music just so-so. You’d expect that a man who runs an educational institution himself, would be more clued into the minds and aspirations of students and make a film with some depth, instead of the usual rich-poor, nerd-jock conflict.
A down-on-his luck gangster, ironically named Lucky (Anil Kapoor) runs afoul of bigger gangster Billa (Sanjay Dutt), when his girlfriend Lara (Koena Mitra) runs off with stolen millions. Lucky is given a chance to save his life by the whimsical Billa, which, for some inexplicable reason requires going to Goa to do a fairly simple money-for-drugs swap. This also gets messed up because a ruthless Goan cop called Tiger (Aditya Panscholi) gets on to Lucky’s case.
In spite of Billa cracking the whip (or rather barking over the cell phone), Lucky finds the time to fall in love with Sam (Sameera Reddy), who is married to a lout Luka (Mahesh Manjrekar), and manages to wrap Lucky around her finger with a sob story of child abuse. Luka tells Lucky another sob story about how the young ‘Lolita’ wrecked his life and begs him to kill Sam.
Lucky, who has ‘sucker’ stamped all over him, gets trapped into one dead end after another, till Billa decides that “the story is coming to an and there has been no action.” He speaks for the audience almost falling asleep, with nothing happening – that too in sepia tones and flashy music video editing. Though you appreciate the labour that has gone into all this gimmickry, it still ends up leaving you headachy and cross-eyed!
Billa leads the film to a very unsatisfactory climax and an uncharacteristic happy ending that makes you wondering how come nobody will count the bodies of all those Goan cops shot by Lucky and Billa.
The actors have all been carefully and ostentatiously styled – Sanjay Dutt has played the bhai in so many films that the only way you can tell him apart in this film is by the gold teeth and a funky weapon he swings like a key chain. Anil Kapoor gets spiky hair and grungy wardrobe, while Sameera Reddy gets a bronzed look and skimpy clothes, which don’t make her look in the least bit sexy— she could try acting next time.
So after seeing what a good cameraman and a good special effects studio can do, you still need to know what the heck’s going on in the film.
Sanjay Gupta probably imagines himself to be India’s answer to Quentin Tarantino and Oliver Stone ( U-Turn is his basic source of inspiration for Musafir), but the film just makes him look like an overeager debutant trying to show off his technical skills. If after making so many films (all plagiarized), Gupta still needs to come up with this cinematic swagger, he ought to be sent back to film school to clear his mind of Hollywood junk.
***********
Why bother to rip off an old teen flick if there is nothing fresh to say. Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander was a well made but standard issue youth movie, so it’s new version Rok Sako To Rok Lo by Arindam Chaudhuri offers just a load of déjà vu.
The management guru and first-time filmmaker tries to make up for lack of directorial skills by throwing money into the movie. Unfortunately, with a no-go script, the money doesn’t go too far.
Newcomers Yash Pandit and Manjari lead a group of losers in Bharti School—they are broke, brainless and not even good at sports. The boys seem to spend all their time teasing girls and grumbling about the more privileged students at the posh Valley High School led by Ranveer (Carran Kapur). It takes a mysterious biker Kabir or ‘Phantom’ (Sunny Deol) to motivate this bunch of dorks.
There is a predictable love triangle, too— how can there be a teen slick without the obligatory romance? Then, there is an additional element of ‘national integration’ as Yash’s group comes from diverse regional groups; there are the usual stereotypes-- a Sardarji, a Tamilian, a Bengali family. And of course the marathon in the climax, which the ‘loser’ has to win after crossing many hurdles!
None of the young cast is particularly impressive and the music just so-so. You’d expect that a man who runs an educational institution himself, would be more clued into the minds and aspirations of students and make a film with some depth, instead of the usual rich-poor, nerd-jock conflict.
Labels: Cinemaah
Khamosh Pani
Pakistani filmmaker Sabiha Sumer’s Khamosh Pani comes with high international acclaim and a couple of acting awards for Kirron Kher. Made with a crew comprising Indians, Germans, French and others, the film is a moving plea for peace and tolerance from a woman’s point of view.
Interestingly Khamosh Pani takes off from where Pinjar (Chandraprakash Dwivedi’s acclaimed film) ends. In Pinjar, a woman abducted by a Muslim man is left behind in Pakistan. She converts to Islam and chooses to stay back with her husband even when she has a chance to return to her family in India—the family that had given her up for dead to preserve the family’s ‘honour’.Ayesha of Khamosh Pani (played with remarkable serenity by Kirron Kher) could be Puro of Pinjar 20 years later. Ayesha has integrated completely into her Pakistani village and accepted her Islamic identity—she even teaches the Koran to little girls. But her young son is swayed by the rabid rhetoric of fundamentalist politicians and suddenly changes from a sweet romantic flute-playing boy to a gun-toting angry young man.
To compound Ayesha’s tragedy, her long-lost brother comes as a pilgrim, and lands up at her doorstep, reminding her of the horrific times of Partition, when men had massacred their women to prevent then from falling into the hands of the ‘enemy’. Young Veero had escaped, comes to terms with the trauma and lived on as Ayesha. Now in the eyes of her son and his militant friends she is a ‘Kafir’ again—once again in danger of having her painstakingly built identity snatched away.What is immediately striking (and daring) about the film (written by Paromita Vohra)is that it is concerned with the resurgence of fundamentalism in Pakistan in the Zia era—there is no anti-India tirade.
It may be difficult for people outside of Pakistan to understand the exact reasons for why a normal, happy young man would be lured into a band of zealots, but audiences everywhere have understood the pain of Ayesha, the confusion of her son’s beloved Zubeida who is pushed away by him, and the fear in the eyes of the young girls watching the walls of their school building being raised by men who want to ‘protect’ them. No matter what brand of religious fanaticism it may be, the women always suffer most.Khamosh Pani does not have a happy ending and holds out no false hopes about things improving for women in any fundamentalist society, but since the film was made last year, there has been a dramatic change in Indo-Pak relations—it is as if the tragedy of women like Ayesha (and Puro) has finally given peace a chance.
Interestingly Khamosh Pani takes off from where Pinjar (Chandraprakash Dwivedi’s acclaimed film) ends. In Pinjar, a woman abducted by a Muslim man is left behind in Pakistan. She converts to Islam and chooses to stay back with her husband even when she has a chance to return to her family in India—the family that had given her up for dead to preserve the family’s ‘honour’.Ayesha of Khamosh Pani (played with remarkable serenity by Kirron Kher) could be Puro of Pinjar 20 years later. Ayesha has integrated completely into her Pakistani village and accepted her Islamic identity—she even teaches the Koran to little girls. But her young son is swayed by the rabid rhetoric of fundamentalist politicians and suddenly changes from a sweet romantic flute-playing boy to a gun-toting angry young man.
To compound Ayesha’s tragedy, her long-lost brother comes as a pilgrim, and lands up at her doorstep, reminding her of the horrific times of Partition, when men had massacred their women to prevent then from falling into the hands of the ‘enemy’. Young Veero had escaped, comes to terms with the trauma and lived on as Ayesha. Now in the eyes of her son and his militant friends she is a ‘Kafir’ again—once again in danger of having her painstakingly built identity snatched away.What is immediately striking (and daring) about the film (written by Paromita Vohra)is that it is concerned with the resurgence of fundamentalism in Pakistan in the Zia era—there is no anti-India tirade.
It may be difficult for people outside of Pakistan to understand the exact reasons for why a normal, happy young man would be lured into a band of zealots, but audiences everywhere have understood the pain of Ayesha, the confusion of her son’s beloved Zubeida who is pushed away by him, and the fear in the eyes of the young girls watching the walls of their school building being raised by men who want to ‘protect’ them. No matter what brand of religious fanaticism it may be, the women always suffer most.Khamosh Pani does not have a happy ending and holds out no false hopes about things improving for women in any fundamentalist society, but since the film was made last year, there has been a dramatic change in Indo-Pak relations—it is as if the tragedy of women like Ayesha (and Puro) has finally given peace a chance.
Labels: Cinemaah
Hulchul
Priyadarshan has a way with comedy and if he gets a cast to back him up, even a film as outdated and corny as Hulchul can deliver a few laughs. Our audiences are not too picky about the mental level of the comedy they are watching as long as they get some entertainment! If they were discerning then a film like Hulchul (or even the director’s Hungama before this) would have fallen flat.
Groan then as a typically ‘South’ film set-up is established with two warring clans. On one side is the ill-tempered Angaarchand (Amrish Puri) and his family of four sons (Jackie Shroff, Paresh Rawal, Arbaaz Khan and Akshaye Khanna), who have been forced to take a vow of eternal bachelorhood due to an ‘Incident’ in the past.On the other side is Lakshmidevi (Lakshmi) swearing vengeance against Angaarchand. As it happens unerringly in the movies, Angaarchand's youngest son, Jai and Lakshmidevi's grand-daughter, Anjali (Kareena Kapoor) study in the same college. They pretend to fall in love with each other with the revenge motive in mind, but (no surprise here), end up really in love. Obviously, all hell breaks loose.
A remake of the Malayalam hit Godfather, the film is loud and quite tedious in most part, but with so many actors trying so hard to be buffoonish, some humour does seep in through the generally unsavoury mayhem.The director had skimmed through Akshaye Khanna’s comic potential in Hungama, here the actor gives a full-throtte performance, with Arshad Warsi abetting him in the role of his friend. Kareena Kapoor is perky and charming. The huge star cast appears to have surrendered to the director and done all the ridiculous things expected of them with touching earnestness!
Entertaining only if you are really down in the dumps and need cheering up!
Groan then as a typically ‘South’ film set-up is established with two warring clans. On one side is the ill-tempered Angaarchand (Amrish Puri) and his family of four sons (Jackie Shroff, Paresh Rawal, Arbaaz Khan and Akshaye Khanna), who have been forced to take a vow of eternal bachelorhood due to an ‘Incident’ in the past.On the other side is Lakshmidevi (Lakshmi) swearing vengeance against Angaarchand. As it happens unerringly in the movies, Angaarchand's youngest son, Jai and Lakshmidevi's grand-daughter, Anjali (Kareena Kapoor) study in the same college. They pretend to fall in love with each other with the revenge motive in mind, but (no surprise here), end up really in love. Obviously, all hell breaks loose.
A remake of the Malayalam hit Godfather, the film is loud and quite tedious in most part, but with so many actors trying so hard to be buffoonish, some humour does seep in through the generally unsavoury mayhem.The director had skimmed through Akshaye Khanna’s comic potential in Hungama, here the actor gives a full-throtte performance, with Arshad Warsi abetting him in the role of his friend. Kareena Kapoor is perky and charming. The huge star cast appears to have surrendered to the director and done all the ridiculous things expected of them with touching earnestness!
Entertaining only if you are really down in the dumps and need cheering up!
Labels: Cinemaah
