Saturday, November 22, 2008
Yuvvraaj
Yuvvraaj
A cellist with the Prague Orchestra, lives in Vienna and has a novice Indian classical singer join the clearly Western musical team, while women in Follies Bergere costumes prance around on stage.
This almost surreal world can only come from the mind of a filmmaker who has either lagged behind while the world of cinema has surged ahead, or stubbornly refuses to recognize that his films are getting to be increasingly outdated. That Subhash Ghai has given mainstream cinema some of its biggest and best films cannot be denied—after all two filmmakers paid tribute to his Karz in recent times.
His latest Yuvvraaj is, sadly, the work of a filmmaker who has lost the pulse of the audience. In the past, he never shot abroad, unless the story (Pardes) demanded it; he never needed to rely on stars, he created them; his music and song picturisations are still memorable. He never needed to go with the numerology fad and give his films oddly-spelt titles.
In Yuvvraaj, he has shot in beautiful locations in Prague, Vienna and London (where, of course, even the Czechs and Austrians speak Hindi!) when there was no need for them. His song picturisations, maybe grand, but completely out of synch with the situations. The idea of 'Family First', is hardly original to begin with, but when the foundation of the script is taken from Rain Man (Barry Levinson, 1988), and the treatment is right out of Balaji serials, with a slapdash handling of actors, not expected of a filmmaker of Ghai's calibre, one is understandably disappointed… dismayed even. Even his ending, with the entire team joining the song-and-dance is taken from Farah Khan's films!
Deven Yuvvraaj (Salman Khan, sleepwalking) is a chorus singer with the Prague Orchestra, where Anushka (Katrina Kaif) is the star Cellist. They are in love, but her father Dr Banton (Boman Irani in Groucho Marx get-up), a doctor who lives in a house that looks like a museum, won't hear of them getting married. Instead, he wants his daughter to marry the evilly-grinning son of a pair of stupefied looking "millionaires from South Africa."
Then Deven's billionaire father dies, and he hopes his share of the fortune will change Banton's mind, but the lawyer (Mithun Chakraborty) reveals that neither Deven nor his playboy-gambler brother Danny (Zayed Khan) have got anything, the billions have gone to their autistic half brother Gyanesh (Anil Kapoor). There is a regular menagerie of uncles, aunts, cousins, servants, children, (a particularly eerie bald kid) and a slinky noodle-strapped vamp, all supposedly in London, but in a haveli, all living off the Yuvvraaj fortunes, when nobody seems to be actually working to earn it.
Deven and Danny gang up to entice Gyanesh and get their hands on some of the money – "just my share" as Deven keeps whining—but Anushka discovers his autism and his musical "genius" – the billionaire father never even took him to a doctor?
In the end, they understand the value of family bonding and, well, that's it. For this, one has to suffer almost three hours of unintended comedy and the sun coming out of the clouds only when the beauteous Katrina is on screen. All the actors act like they were in a different film—from old Madras melodrama (Anil Kapoor) to Parsi theatre farce (Boman Irani), and there was no directorial control. The lyrics (Gulzar) are bizarre and the music… well not Rahman's Taal quality.
The only one who seems to have done his work sincerely is cinematographer Kabir Lal, who makes the picturesque European locations look like a slice of paradise.
A cellist with the Prague Orchestra, lives in Vienna and has a novice Indian classical singer join the clearly Western musical team, while women in Follies Bergere costumes prance around on stage.
This almost surreal world can only come from the mind of a filmmaker who has either lagged behind while the world of cinema has surged ahead, or stubbornly refuses to recognize that his films are getting to be increasingly outdated. That Subhash Ghai has given mainstream cinema some of its biggest and best films cannot be denied—after all two filmmakers paid tribute to his Karz in recent times.
His latest Yuvvraaj is, sadly, the work of a filmmaker who has lost the pulse of the audience. In the past, he never shot abroad, unless the story (Pardes) demanded it; he never needed to rely on stars, he created them; his music and song picturisations are still memorable. He never needed to go with the numerology fad and give his films oddly-spelt titles.
In Yuvvraaj, he has shot in beautiful locations in Prague, Vienna and London (where, of course, even the Czechs and Austrians speak Hindi!) when there was no need for them. His song picturisations, maybe grand, but completely out of synch with the situations. The idea of 'Family First', is hardly original to begin with, but when the foundation of the script is taken from Rain Man (Barry Levinson, 1988), and the treatment is right out of Balaji serials, with a slapdash handling of actors, not expected of a filmmaker of Ghai's calibre, one is understandably disappointed… dismayed even. Even his ending, with the entire team joining the song-and-dance is taken from Farah Khan's films!
Deven Yuvvraaj (Salman Khan, sleepwalking) is a chorus singer with the Prague Orchestra, where Anushka (Katrina Kaif) is the star Cellist. They are in love, but her father Dr Banton (Boman Irani in Groucho Marx get-up), a doctor who lives in a house that looks like a museum, won't hear of them getting married. Instead, he wants his daughter to marry the evilly-grinning son of a pair of stupefied looking "millionaires from South Africa."
Then Deven's billionaire father dies, and he hopes his share of the fortune will change Banton's mind, but the lawyer (Mithun Chakraborty) reveals that neither Deven nor his playboy-gambler brother Danny (Zayed Khan) have got anything, the billions have gone to their autistic half brother Gyanesh (Anil Kapoor). There is a regular menagerie of uncles, aunts, cousins, servants, children, (a particularly eerie bald kid) and a slinky noodle-strapped vamp, all supposedly in London, but in a haveli, all living off the Yuvvraaj fortunes, when nobody seems to be actually working to earn it.
Deven and Danny gang up to entice Gyanesh and get their hands on some of the money – "just my share" as Deven keeps whining—but Anushka discovers his autism and his musical "genius" – the billionaire father never even took him to a doctor?
In the end, they understand the value of family bonding and, well, that's it. For this, one has to suffer almost three hours of unintended comedy and the sun coming out of the clouds only when the beauteous Katrina is on screen. All the actors act like they were in a different film—from old Madras melodrama (Anil Kapoor) to Parsi theatre farce (Boman Irani), and there was no directorial control. The lyrics (Gulzar) are bizarre and the music… well not Rahman's Taal quality.
The only one who seems to have done his work sincerely is cinematographer Kabir Lal, who makes the picturesque European locations look like a slice of paradise.
Labels: Cinemaah
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