Friday, August 12, 2005
Mangal Pandey
Luckily for Ketan Mehta, the international audience for his Mangal Pandey: The Rising would not know (or care) about a small chapter in Indian history, and Indian audiences couldn’t care less about anything if they get their money’s worth of entertainment. So he can merrily mix a lot of masala with his history lesson and probably get away with it!
Mehta tries to bung everything into a giant cauldron -- song, dance, spectacle, battles, romance, emotion, heroism — and stirs it with patriotism. This is the kind of light ‘pop’ attitude that works these days, and with the star power Aamir Khan commands, Mehta is home dry.
To sit through the film without spluttering in disbelief, you have to forget that it is based on historical fact, and enjoy its unabashed Bollywood-isation of history. Then you can believe that a British officer (William Gordan played by Toby Stephens) can wrestle in the mud with an Indian sepoy, drink bhaang with the ‘natives’, live with a high caste Hindu widow (Amisha Patel), he picked up from the sati pyre, and have a Johnny Mera Naam style one-on-one bhai-bhai fight with Mangal Pandey, when there’s supposedly a battle raging a few metres away! You can even believe that the Brahmin hero, who has no problems with casteism or the sati system, and objects to biting a bullet greased with animal fat, will consort with a nautch girl.
It is a bit much that Mangal Pandey not just triggers a revolution, but also ends up as a warrior, visionary, saint, railing against untouchability and imperialism– a pre-Gandhi Mahatma. It must be some kind of political conspiracy that history books don’t give him his correct place in the pantheon of freedom fighters. Maybe, now they will, with the face of Aamir Khan to prove that Mangal Pandey was truly a hero.
If it is just entertainment, then, of course, there’s no problem if Mangal Pandey does not react when a girl is sold in the bazaar, but does a filmi hero like rescue act when the same girl, now a prostitute (Rani Mukherji) is being forcibly dragged home by a British officer. This angers the loutish Brits so much that they brutally beat him up, and possibly start the fire that ends with a nationalist movement. For someone who goes about repeatedly attacking the ‘goras’ (though he does work in the East India Company’s army, lives off their salary and shoots at unarmed Indian peasants), they seem to be quite lenient with him—allowing him to go around dancing with gypsies or singing Holi songs.
It can’t denied that Mehta and his writer Farrukh Dhondy have fun with the material, and turn out a movie that has sporadic highs. The plus points being Aamir Khan’s muscular, blazing-eyed portrayal of the character, though in the acting department Toby Stephens grabs top spot; Himman Dhamija’s cinematography; the opening execution sequence which gets the audience in the right emotional mood; the way the Mangal Mangal ballad is used; the neat ending that ties up the story with the future.
Go expecting to see a piece of Bollywood fluff and you won’t be disappointed. Expect a historical epic, and you’ll come out wondering if Mangal Pandey really had secret conferences with Tatya Tope, or if he actually said “Halla Bol” before he was hanged!
Mehta tries to bung everything into a giant cauldron -- song, dance, spectacle, battles, romance, emotion, heroism — and stirs it with patriotism. This is the kind of light ‘pop’ attitude that works these days, and with the star power Aamir Khan commands, Mehta is home dry.
To sit through the film without spluttering in disbelief, you have to forget that it is based on historical fact, and enjoy its unabashed Bollywood-isation of history. Then you can believe that a British officer (William Gordan played by Toby Stephens) can wrestle in the mud with an Indian sepoy, drink bhaang with the ‘natives’, live with a high caste Hindu widow (Amisha Patel), he picked up from the sati pyre, and have a Johnny Mera Naam style one-on-one bhai-bhai fight with Mangal Pandey, when there’s supposedly a battle raging a few metres away! You can even believe that the Brahmin hero, who has no problems with casteism or the sati system, and objects to biting a bullet greased with animal fat, will consort with a nautch girl.
It is a bit much that Mangal Pandey not just triggers a revolution, but also ends up as a warrior, visionary, saint, railing against untouchability and imperialism– a pre-Gandhi Mahatma. It must be some kind of political conspiracy that history books don’t give him his correct place in the pantheon of freedom fighters. Maybe, now they will, with the face of Aamir Khan to prove that Mangal Pandey was truly a hero.
If it is just entertainment, then, of course, there’s no problem if Mangal Pandey does not react when a girl is sold in the bazaar, but does a filmi hero like rescue act when the same girl, now a prostitute (Rani Mukherji) is being forcibly dragged home by a British officer. This angers the loutish Brits so much that they brutally beat him up, and possibly start the fire that ends with a nationalist movement. For someone who goes about repeatedly attacking the ‘goras’ (though he does work in the East India Company’s army, lives off their salary and shoots at unarmed Indian peasants), they seem to be quite lenient with him—allowing him to go around dancing with gypsies or singing Holi songs.
It can’t denied that Mehta and his writer Farrukh Dhondy have fun with the material, and turn out a movie that has sporadic highs. The plus points being Aamir Khan’s muscular, blazing-eyed portrayal of the character, though in the acting department Toby Stephens grabs top spot; Himman Dhamija’s cinematography; the opening execution sequence which gets the audience in the right emotional mood; the way the Mangal Mangal ballad is used; the neat ending that ties up the story with the future.
Go expecting to see a piece of Bollywood fluff and you won’t be disappointed. Expect a historical epic, and you’ll come out wondering if Mangal Pandey really had secret conferences with Tatya Tope, or if he actually said “Halla Bol” before he was hanged!
Labels: Cinemaah
Shwet
Dharan Mandrayar’s Shwet (White Rainbow) is another one of those well meaning efforts, that take up a suitable social cause, and turns it into a film so painfully laboured, it sets your teeth on edge.
Priya (Sonali Kulkarni), educated and wealthy, is widowed, and suddenly she realizes that a widow’s fate is worse than death (she actually says that in a TV interview, while trying to create awareness about the plight of widows). Her in-laws loudly suggest she go to Vrindavan, a friend’s husband stares lecherously at her in the shower; in a haze of booze and pills, she concludes that since a widow is vulnerable to all manner of human vermin anyway, she must “do something.”
So, without a clue, she lands up at Vrindavan with a huge wardrobe and an irritatingly patronizing attitude to “help” widows. It would take a real retard not to know about a common social phenomenon in India, but Priya goes about it like Alice in Wonderland. The audience is shown the ‘touristy’ sights too—pathetic living conditions, financial and sexual exploitation, and the heart-wrenching sight of white clad widows singing bhajans all day to earn a measly sum, while they wait like zombies for deliverance.
She forms a gang of four with feisty old Roop (Amardeep Jha), the disfigured Mala (Shameem Sheikh), and the mousy Dipti (Amruta Subhash), to fight for widows’ rights. Just one high-pitched sermon at an apathetic bureaucrat hands over their pension. A few emails and a doctor (Gaurav Kapoor) with a vague NRI accent, lands up to offer free medical care and moral support. The solutions are as quick fix, as the unfolding of the problem is trite.
Still, there are a few high points—like when the women set up their own ashram, when Priya beats up the Panda (Virendra Saxena) who ill-treats Dipti, and slams a smug minister on a TV show.
Maybe a bit more research and better understanding of the issue, would have made the amateurish film bearable, but apart from the earnestness of the actors (Sonali Kulkarni could have been a little less chirpy), there’s not much else in the film.
Priya (Sonali Kulkarni), educated and wealthy, is widowed, and suddenly she realizes that a widow’s fate is worse than death (she actually says that in a TV interview, while trying to create awareness about the plight of widows). Her in-laws loudly suggest she go to Vrindavan, a friend’s husband stares lecherously at her in the shower; in a haze of booze and pills, she concludes that since a widow is vulnerable to all manner of human vermin anyway, she must “do something.”
So, without a clue, she lands up at Vrindavan with a huge wardrobe and an irritatingly patronizing attitude to “help” widows. It would take a real retard not to know about a common social phenomenon in India, but Priya goes about it like Alice in Wonderland. The audience is shown the ‘touristy’ sights too—pathetic living conditions, financial and sexual exploitation, and the heart-wrenching sight of white clad widows singing bhajans all day to earn a measly sum, while they wait like zombies for deliverance.
She forms a gang of four with feisty old Roop (Amardeep Jha), the disfigured Mala (Shameem Sheikh), and the mousy Dipti (Amruta Subhash), to fight for widows’ rights. Just one high-pitched sermon at an apathetic bureaucrat hands over their pension. A few emails and a doctor (Gaurav Kapoor) with a vague NRI accent, lands up to offer free medical care and moral support. The solutions are as quick fix, as the unfolding of the problem is trite.
Still, there are a few high points—like when the women set up their own ashram, when Priya beats up the Panda (Virendra Saxena) who ill-treats Dipti, and slams a smug minister on a TV show.
Maybe a bit more research and better understanding of the issue, would have made the amateurish film bearable, but apart from the earnestness of the actors (Sonali Kulkarni could have been a little less chirpy), there’s not much else in the film.
Labels: Cinemaah
Yahaan & Sehar
Yahaan
Some movie buffs may have seen European films that look like Yahaan at film festivals, but this kind of visual quality is seldom seen in regular Hindi cinema. Not surprising then to discover that the DOP is a Swede (Jakob Ihre).
Shoojit Sircar’s debut film shows a great deal of merit. Though he is not a Kashmiri, the filmmaker has shown a realistic side of the beautiful but troubled state that is bleak, grey almost hellish! Mainstream Hindi filmmakers, even when they have made films about terrorism, can’t resist postcard visuals. Yahaan does not use any candy floss coating—it’s as if the desolate landscape devoid of colour is a metaphor for the piteous condition of the people.
Having said that, the plot (six writers have worked on the story- screenplay) moves on well trod ground—Kashmiri girl Adaa (Minissha) falls in love with armyman (Jimmy Shergill), tactfully named Aman, so the issue of religion doesn’t crop up. Neither Kashmiri militants, nor the army approves of such a romance, and when it turns out that Adaa is the sister of Shakeel, a terrorist leader (Yashpal Sharma), things get sticky for Aman.
When a spiteful senior (Mukesh Tiwari) accuses Aman of treason, Adaa (in Roja style) shakes up the system to rescue her beloved.
The first half the film, in which the romance and the tenuous relationship between the Kashmiri people and the army is established with a minimum of fuss, is simple and effective. The second half, when Adaa goes about fighting for Aman’s release, and the climax in a mosque is a bit too pat.
A little care could have been taken to make Adaa’s appearance authetic, keeping the milieu in mind. She is the only one who seems to walk around with head uncovered and hair flowing loose. She hints at rape of Kashmiri women by militants, but in her bearing, even when she is out on her own, there is no trace of fear or uncertainty.
And of course the cause of terrorism in Kashmir is reduced to simplistic levels— again the Roja-like conversation between Aman and Shakeel.
Jimmy Shergill’s performance is marvellously restrained, and Minissha makes a noteworthy debut in a role that is not overtly glamorous. But on the whole, the film is impressive, Sircar has made it in an uncompromising style without pandering to the box-office—commendable in a first film. It deserves a chance, those who see it, won’t regret it.
Sehar
Kabeer Kaushik first feature Sehar is an earnest, well-researched film, but has a subject with which the audience is already fatigued.
Apparently based on a true life story, and set in Lucknow, Sehar is narrated by a telecommunications expert (Pankaj Kapur), who in the early days of cell phones, was recruited by the UP cops to nail a dreaded mafia don.
Ajay (Arshad Warsi), an honest cop in the Shool, Kagaar and Ab Tak Chhapan mould, is up against a corrupt system, run by Gajraj Singh (Sushant Singh) and is gang of brutal cohorts.
When their daylight murders and gang wars get out of hand, Ajay and his sympathetic boss (Rajendra Gupta) push for the formation of a Special Task Force, and eliminate the mafia by shooting at sight. But Gajraj is a wily opponent and the casualties on both sides are heavy.
The film, shot in stark documentary style, moves at a no-nonsense pace, and despite some needless diversions into a half-baked romance (Mahima Chaudhary) and a quick glimpse into Ajay’s past (his father committed suicide), concentrates on the cop-versus-mafia face offs. The problem being that we have seen it all before; also, and after reading about the law and order situation in UP, its tough to believe, that such an enterprise to eradicate organized crime was undertaken, the cops did not abuse their power, and that there was a chief minister honest enough to have supported it!
Sincere performances all round, and dialogues that are a delight for the Hindi-lover ...such chaste Hindi is seldom heard in films anymore.
Some movie buffs may have seen European films that look like Yahaan at film festivals, but this kind of visual quality is seldom seen in regular Hindi cinema. Not surprising then to discover that the DOP is a Swede (Jakob Ihre).
Shoojit Sircar’s debut film shows a great deal of merit. Though he is not a Kashmiri, the filmmaker has shown a realistic side of the beautiful but troubled state that is bleak, grey almost hellish! Mainstream Hindi filmmakers, even when they have made films about terrorism, can’t resist postcard visuals. Yahaan does not use any candy floss coating—it’s as if the desolate landscape devoid of colour is a metaphor for the piteous condition of the people.
Having said that, the plot (six writers have worked on the story- screenplay) moves on well trod ground—Kashmiri girl Adaa (Minissha) falls in love with armyman (Jimmy Shergill), tactfully named Aman, so the issue of religion doesn’t crop up. Neither Kashmiri militants, nor the army approves of such a romance, and when it turns out that Adaa is the sister of Shakeel, a terrorist leader (Yashpal Sharma), things get sticky for Aman.
When a spiteful senior (Mukesh Tiwari) accuses Aman of treason, Adaa (in Roja style) shakes up the system to rescue her beloved.
The first half the film, in which the romance and the tenuous relationship between the Kashmiri people and the army is established with a minimum of fuss, is simple and effective. The second half, when Adaa goes about fighting for Aman’s release, and the climax in a mosque is a bit too pat.
A little care could have been taken to make Adaa’s appearance authetic, keeping the milieu in mind. She is the only one who seems to walk around with head uncovered and hair flowing loose. She hints at rape of Kashmiri women by militants, but in her bearing, even when she is out on her own, there is no trace of fear or uncertainty.
And of course the cause of terrorism in Kashmir is reduced to simplistic levels— again the Roja-like conversation between Aman and Shakeel.
Jimmy Shergill’s performance is marvellously restrained, and Minissha makes a noteworthy debut in a role that is not overtly glamorous. But on the whole, the film is impressive, Sircar has made it in an uncompromising style without pandering to the box-office—commendable in a first film. It deserves a chance, those who see it, won’t regret it.
Sehar
Kabeer Kaushik first feature Sehar is an earnest, well-researched film, but has a subject with which the audience is already fatigued.
Apparently based on a true life story, and set in Lucknow, Sehar is narrated by a telecommunications expert (Pankaj Kapur), who in the early days of cell phones, was recruited by the UP cops to nail a dreaded mafia don.
Ajay (Arshad Warsi), an honest cop in the Shool, Kagaar and Ab Tak Chhapan mould, is up against a corrupt system, run by Gajraj Singh (Sushant Singh) and is gang of brutal cohorts.
When their daylight murders and gang wars get out of hand, Ajay and his sympathetic boss (Rajendra Gupta) push for the formation of a Special Task Force, and eliminate the mafia by shooting at sight. But Gajraj is a wily opponent and the casualties on both sides are heavy.
The film, shot in stark documentary style, moves at a no-nonsense pace, and despite some needless diversions into a half-baked romance (Mahima Chaudhary) and a quick glimpse into Ajay’s past (his father committed suicide), concentrates on the cop-versus-mafia face offs. The problem being that we have seen it all before; also, and after reading about the law and order situation in UP, its tough to believe, that such an enterprise to eradicate organized crime was undertaken, the cops did not abuse their power, and that there was a chief minister honest enough to have supported it!
Sincere performances all round, and dialogues that are a delight for the Hindi-lover ...such chaste Hindi is seldom heard in films anymore.
Labels: Cinemaah
