Friday, December 04, 2009
Paa+Radio
Paa
It is a mark of a mature director to engage the viewer at am emotional level without hitting the gratingly high melodramatic notes or trying too hard to wring out tears. R. Balki has taken the progeria idea of Paa from the Hollywood film Jack, and made it his own.
Actually, the story of an estranged couple brought together by their illegitimate kid would have worked just as well with a normal child, so having Amitabh Bachchan play a 13-year-old with a rare genetic disease that causes abnormal aging is just a stunt. But it is a stunt you don’t mind because of the remarkable results. First of all giving Amitabh Bachchan, who must have played every character under the sun, something so uniquely challenging to do; and to top it all playing the son of his own real-life son.
One can only imagine the hard work, discipline and powers of observation that must have gone into the creation of Auro—a bright, naughty, caring kid, stricken with an incurable disease. Bachchan works on his voice, mannerisms, body language and interactions with other kids so well, that you cannot imagine this is a bass-voiced superstar in his sixties.
Abhishek Bachchan (superbly controlled) plays Amol Arte, and idealistic politician, who had years ago broken with his pregnant girlfriend Vidya (Balan-- excellent). She decided to have the baby, carry on with her medical career and raise the child with the help of her mother (Arundhati Nag--outstanding). The relationship between the two women is quite unlike anything normally seen on the Hindi screen. In fact, the bantering between Amol and his politician father (Paresh Rawal— first-rate) is also amusing.
As a chief guest at a school function Amol accidentally comes across Auro and befriends him without knowing that he is his own son. Again the friendship between Auro and Amol, the bonding between Auro and his ‘misfit’ buddy Vishnu (Pratik Katare), and his running away from a sweet girl are funny and poignant (great dialogue all through). Balki resists the Taare Zameen Par urge to pontificate—there is no soap box plea to accept an abnormal child. The kids in his school are not just okay with Auro’s slightly grotesque appearance, they run to his help when his fragile body packs up.
What has no place in the film is the immature and unnecessary harangue against the media—which is not by itself offensive--the sensational way in which it is done, in an otherwise understated film, is odd. Vidya’s pro-life stand is also a little too aggressive—as a doctor she counsels a woman to have a baby quickly or suffer health problems. Which doctor came up with that conclusion?
Anyway, let the quibbles be, the film has enough going for it to merit a look, and you don’t need an astrologer to predict that Amitabh Bachchan will win all the acting awards next year.
Radio
Music is Himesh Reshammiya’s core competency. Despite the surprise success of his first film Aap Ka Suroor, he is not yet an actor, or at least, has not found the groove that would suit his ‘everyman’ personality best.
As a result, he tries very hard to appeal to the youth—Radio, directed by Ishan Trivedi is so self-consciously ‘trendy’ it’s comical. The irony is that you cannot try to be ‘in’—it happens automatically, or it doesn’t.
Copying the ‘chapters’ idea from Quentin Tarantino’s films (or may be old silent movies), each episode in the protagonist RJ Vivan’s (Reshammiya) life is preceded by a card which has supposedly funky chapter headlines like : Talaq aur Ganpatiji, Matinee show aur matar ka keeda, Encounter aur kadhee.
It’s shot like one big music video, as if a moment of stillness or silence would disturb the audience. At the heart of all this ‘cool’ packaging is a contemporary urban love triangle, in which Vivan is caught between his “unpredictable” ex-wife Pooja (Sonal Sehgal) and the “clown” – a perky Shanaya (Shenaz Treasuryvala). Taking to youth lingo Vivan says his relationship status is “It’s complicated” and that he is in “denial mode.”
The triangle does get complicated, when you are not sure if the two women—who become pals—are trying to woo Vivan or offload him on to the other. No wonder the poor guy is “confused” and to let off steam, breaks plates in a restaurant. What else can he do when Shanaya’s mad family dances around him calling him “Damaadji.”
The same film made with a younger, really cool cast might have worked—it does take a look at relationships in the urban double-income-no-kids scenario, when a wife can whimsically divorce her husband because of “incompatibility” (the judge grants it in fast-track mode), and then want him back. But then Himesh wouldn’t be cool if he was left in a freezer overnight, and Shenaz Treasuryvala wouldn’t be hot if she were micro-waved. The only one who fits the part and acts reasonably well is Sonal Sehgal.
Some of the supporting characters are annoyingly over-the-top, like Vivan’s radio boss, and Shanaya’s “South Bombay Ka DCP” father, who is obsessed with his dish antenna. You are not even supposed to wonder how a choreographer and a cop can live in such large, lavish bungalows and the RJ has a sea-facing apartment that looks suspiciously like a hotel suite. If there’s one thing about which there are no complaints, it’s the music. Man ka radio, despite its weird lyrics (Station Koi Naya Tune Kar Le Zara Fultoo Attitude De De Tu Zara) is compulsively hummable.
It is a mark of a mature director to engage the viewer at am emotional level without hitting the gratingly high melodramatic notes or trying too hard to wring out tears. R. Balki has taken the progeria idea of Paa from the Hollywood film Jack, and made it his own.
Actually, the story of an estranged couple brought together by their illegitimate kid would have worked just as well with a normal child, so having Amitabh Bachchan play a 13-year-old with a rare genetic disease that causes abnormal aging is just a stunt. But it is a stunt you don’t mind because of the remarkable results. First of all giving Amitabh Bachchan, who must have played every character under the sun, something so uniquely challenging to do; and to top it all playing the son of his own real-life son.
One can only imagine the hard work, discipline and powers of observation that must have gone into the creation of Auro—a bright, naughty, caring kid, stricken with an incurable disease. Bachchan works on his voice, mannerisms, body language and interactions with other kids so well, that you cannot imagine this is a bass-voiced superstar in his sixties.
Abhishek Bachchan (superbly controlled) plays Amol Arte, and idealistic politician, who had years ago broken with his pregnant girlfriend Vidya (Balan-- excellent). She decided to have the baby, carry on with her medical career and raise the child with the help of her mother (Arundhati Nag--outstanding). The relationship between the two women is quite unlike anything normally seen on the Hindi screen. In fact, the bantering between Amol and his politician father (Paresh Rawal— first-rate) is also amusing.
As a chief guest at a school function Amol accidentally comes across Auro and befriends him without knowing that he is his own son. Again the friendship between Auro and Amol, the bonding between Auro and his ‘misfit’ buddy Vishnu (Pratik Katare), and his running away from a sweet girl are funny and poignant (great dialogue all through). Balki resists the Taare Zameen Par urge to pontificate—there is no soap box plea to accept an abnormal child. The kids in his school are not just okay with Auro’s slightly grotesque appearance, they run to his help when his fragile body packs up.
What has no place in the film is the immature and unnecessary harangue against the media—which is not by itself offensive--the sensational way in which it is done, in an otherwise understated film, is odd. Vidya’s pro-life stand is also a little too aggressive—as a doctor she counsels a woman to have a baby quickly or suffer health problems. Which doctor came up with that conclusion?
Anyway, let the quibbles be, the film has enough going for it to merit a look, and you don’t need an astrologer to predict that Amitabh Bachchan will win all the acting awards next year.
Radio
Music is Himesh Reshammiya’s core competency. Despite the surprise success of his first film Aap Ka Suroor, he is not yet an actor, or at least, has not found the groove that would suit his ‘everyman’ personality best.
As a result, he tries very hard to appeal to the youth—Radio, directed by Ishan Trivedi is so self-consciously ‘trendy’ it’s comical. The irony is that you cannot try to be ‘in’—it happens automatically, or it doesn’t.
Copying the ‘chapters’ idea from Quentin Tarantino’s films (or may be old silent movies), each episode in the protagonist RJ Vivan’s (Reshammiya) life is preceded by a card which has supposedly funky chapter headlines like : Talaq aur Ganpatiji, Matinee show aur matar ka keeda, Encounter aur kadhee.
It’s shot like one big music video, as if a moment of stillness or silence would disturb the audience. At the heart of all this ‘cool’ packaging is a contemporary urban love triangle, in which Vivan is caught between his “unpredictable” ex-wife Pooja (Sonal Sehgal) and the “clown” – a perky Shanaya (Shenaz Treasuryvala). Taking to youth lingo Vivan says his relationship status is “It’s complicated” and that he is in “denial mode.”
The triangle does get complicated, when you are not sure if the two women—who become pals—are trying to woo Vivan or offload him on to the other. No wonder the poor guy is “confused” and to let off steam, breaks plates in a restaurant. What else can he do when Shanaya’s mad family dances around him calling him “Damaadji.”
The same film made with a younger, really cool cast might have worked—it does take a look at relationships in the urban double-income-no-kids scenario, when a wife can whimsically divorce her husband because of “incompatibility” (the judge grants it in fast-track mode), and then want him back. But then Himesh wouldn’t be cool if he was left in a freezer overnight, and Shenaz Treasuryvala wouldn’t be hot if she were micro-waved. The only one who fits the part and acts reasonably well is Sonal Sehgal.
Some of the supporting characters are annoyingly over-the-top, like Vivan’s radio boss, and Shanaya’s “South Bombay Ka DCP” father, who is obsessed with his dish antenna. You are not even supposed to wonder how a choreographer and a cop can live in such large, lavish bungalows and the RJ has a sea-facing apartment that looks suspiciously like a hotel suite. If there’s one thing about which there are no complaints, it’s the music. Man ka radio, despite its weird lyrics (Station Koi Naya Tune Kar Le Zara Fultoo Attitude De De Tu Zara) is compulsively hummable.
Labels: Cinemaah
Sunday, November 29, 2009
De Dana Dan
De Dana Dan
To be fair to Priyadarshan and the makers of other such confusion confounded movies, it is a tough genre to work with, and it is a wonder he isn’t bored with it. What it requires is to create a complicated web of misunderstandings, coincidences, mistaken identities—bring the many characters somehow to one venue and let them run wild. This is what many of Priyadarshan’s recent films have been like and this summarizes his latest De Dana Dan. Only, in this film, he has more confusion than he or any sensible viewer can handle.
Blame it on the Bell Boy and The Valet, prepare the base on which this film (also Do Not Disturb recently) set in a Singapore hotel is constructed. (The Pan Pacific gets crores worth of publicity and, hopefully loads of Indian tourist traffic.) The impoverished and desperate Nitin (Akshay Kumar) and Ram (Sunil Shetty) hole up there waiting to collect a fortune from the former’s monstrous (she keeps kicking him into a pool) boss (Archana Puran Singh) by kidnapping her dog.
The kidnap plan fails—the dog is smarter than the two goofballs and their smile-pout girlfriends (Katrina Kaif-Sameera Reddy). But as part of a wedding party Paresh Rawal, Chunky Pandey, Manoj Joshi and gang land up there. Rajpal Yadav is already there as a bumbling waiter. Add to that Jonny Lever, Asrani, Shakti Kapoor, Sharat Saxena and the Priyadarshan menagerie is complete. Maybe only Om Puri is missing, and Vikram Gokhale is added. There’s Neha Dhupia for some oomph which the other two ladies fail to muster up.
One set of people has to give money to another, the wrong one gets it, a hitman follows the wrong target and in the midst of all the mayhem, Akshay Kumar gets locked in a cupboard, and is, in effect out of the film for most of its running time.
Everyone shouts and screams and like in all Priyadarshan comedies, come together in a watery climax.
Of its nearly three-hour running time, there could be fifteen minutes of real comedy. The rest is like listening to nails being hammered into a wall.
To be fair to Priyadarshan and the makers of other such confusion confounded movies, it is a tough genre to work with, and it is a wonder he isn’t bored with it. What it requires is to create a complicated web of misunderstandings, coincidences, mistaken identities—bring the many characters somehow to one venue and let them run wild. This is what many of Priyadarshan’s recent films have been like and this summarizes his latest De Dana Dan. Only, in this film, he has more confusion than he or any sensible viewer can handle.
Blame it on the Bell Boy and The Valet, prepare the base on which this film (also Do Not Disturb recently) set in a Singapore hotel is constructed. (The Pan Pacific gets crores worth of publicity and, hopefully loads of Indian tourist traffic.) The impoverished and desperate Nitin (Akshay Kumar) and Ram (Sunil Shetty) hole up there waiting to collect a fortune from the former’s monstrous (she keeps kicking him into a pool) boss (Archana Puran Singh) by kidnapping her dog.
The kidnap plan fails—the dog is smarter than the two goofballs and their smile-pout girlfriends (Katrina Kaif-Sameera Reddy). But as part of a wedding party Paresh Rawal, Chunky Pandey, Manoj Joshi and gang land up there. Rajpal Yadav is already there as a bumbling waiter. Add to that Jonny Lever, Asrani, Shakti Kapoor, Sharat Saxena and the Priyadarshan menagerie is complete. Maybe only Om Puri is missing, and Vikram Gokhale is added. There’s Neha Dhupia for some oomph which the other two ladies fail to muster up.
One set of people has to give money to another, the wrong one gets it, a hitman follows the wrong target and in the midst of all the mayhem, Akshay Kumar gets locked in a cupboard, and is, in effect out of the film for most of its running time.
Everyone shouts and screams and like in all Priyadarshan comedies, come together in a watery climax.
Of its nearly three-hour running time, there could be fifteen minutes of real comedy. The rest is like listening to nails being hammered into a wall.
Labels: Cinemaah
