Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Badmaash+Afterlife
Badmaash Company
Not so long ago, before the retail boom, foreign goods came at a premium in India, and every area in Mumbai had a friendly neighbourhood smuggler, who provided goodies like jeans, t-shirts, branded shoes, watches, chocolates and cheese. The modus operandi was to send ‘carriers’ to Bangkok or Hong Kong, smuggle in these in-demand goods, in cahoots with the customs guys. The flourishing business came to an end with Manmohan Singh’s liberalization policy.
It’s a very interesting social phenomenon, but a Badmaash Company in a film, smuggling shoes, doesn’t make for very exciting cinema. Middle class Karan (Shahid Kapoor—efficient) wants to get rich quick, and with the help of friends Chandu (Vir Das--likeable), Zing (Meiyang Chang—good screen presence) and girlfriend Bulbul (Anushka Sharma--miscast) forms his own hoodwink-customs ring.
Karan’s too elaborate plan, again, is amusing to read about, but watching it unfold repetitively kills the humour of the story of Indian enterprise. This bit is added on to the true case of how a cancelled consignment of Madras checked fabric that bled, was turned into an triumph of canny marketing. (Captain Nair was the man who had sold the miracle fabric that bleeds concept, but much earlier than the period the film is set in.)
Parmeet Sethi, making his debut as director, hit on a good idea, cast it well, but his filmmaking style is stodgy and does not show any of the innovation that the story idea does. And then, after establishing these guys and gal as cool, he climbs the moral high ground and preaches honesty, stability and family values.
Still, it is to be commended for at least reminding us of a time that is forgotten in the glare of malls laden with international brands. The enterprising smuggler was really an institution, but as the hero of a film? Maybe not.
It’s a Wonderful Afterlife
When Gurinder Chadha made Bhaji On The Beach in 1993, she was this bright young UK filmmaker of Indian origin, chronicling the endearing quirks of her community. The voice was not as fresh and perky by the time she made Bend It Like Beckham in 2002, but still carried a degree of charm.
Now with her latest, It’s a Wonderful Afterlife, the tone is sneering and the formula already rancid. This is the picture of Indians in the UK that she wants to show the world, but to Indians it is offensive. There may be characters like the ones she shows in the film, but there are many more who are not the typically desi types, but you hardly see a Laxmi Mittal in the movies, just the aloo-gobhi stereotypes.
Pity that Shabana Azmi had to endorse such a film by wasting her acting talents on it. The film begins with a force-fed man stomach literally bursting, spraying the operation theatre staff with undigested Indian food. From this sick-making scene, the film just never seems to rise.
The cops in London are baffled by a series of murders of Asians, in bizarre ways— like man smothered with a chapatti, a women killed with a rolling pin and another stabbed with a kabab skewer. Worse, the dead ones hover around as ghosts with the ‘murder weapons’ on their bodies, and as the film progresses get increasingly hideous.
There is no mystery, the killer is Mrs Sethi (Azmi), whose sole aim in life is to get her fat daughter Roopi (Goldy Notay) married, so that she can die in peace and join her departed husband. Investigating the murders is an Indian cop Murthy (Sendhil Ramamurthy), who takes a shine to Roopi, though he just has to date her as part of his undercover duties.
The humour in the film is more nasty than funny, none of the characters is remotely likeable—the most irritating being an English girl who returns from India believing she has psychic powers.
Wonderful is not the adjective of choice to describe this film-- woeful, maybe?
Not so long ago, before the retail boom, foreign goods came at a premium in India, and every area in Mumbai had a friendly neighbourhood smuggler, who provided goodies like jeans, t-shirts, branded shoes, watches, chocolates and cheese. The modus operandi was to send ‘carriers’ to Bangkok or Hong Kong, smuggle in these in-demand goods, in cahoots with the customs guys. The flourishing business came to an end with Manmohan Singh’s liberalization policy.
It’s a very interesting social phenomenon, but a Badmaash Company in a film, smuggling shoes, doesn’t make for very exciting cinema. Middle class Karan (Shahid Kapoor—efficient) wants to get rich quick, and with the help of friends Chandu (Vir Das--likeable), Zing (Meiyang Chang—good screen presence) and girlfriend Bulbul (Anushka Sharma--miscast) forms his own hoodwink-customs ring.
Karan’s too elaborate plan, again, is amusing to read about, but watching it unfold repetitively kills the humour of the story of Indian enterprise. This bit is added on to the true case of how a cancelled consignment of Madras checked fabric that bled, was turned into an triumph of canny marketing. (Captain Nair was the man who had sold the miracle fabric that bleeds concept, but much earlier than the period the film is set in.)
Parmeet Sethi, making his debut as director, hit on a good idea, cast it well, but his filmmaking style is stodgy and does not show any of the innovation that the story idea does. And then, after establishing these guys and gal as cool, he climbs the moral high ground and preaches honesty, stability and family values.
Still, it is to be commended for at least reminding us of a time that is forgotten in the glare of malls laden with international brands. The enterprising smuggler was really an institution, but as the hero of a film? Maybe not.
It’s a Wonderful Afterlife
When Gurinder Chadha made Bhaji On The Beach in 1993, she was this bright young UK filmmaker of Indian origin, chronicling the endearing quirks of her community. The voice was not as fresh and perky by the time she made Bend It Like Beckham in 2002, but still carried a degree of charm.
Now with her latest, It’s a Wonderful Afterlife, the tone is sneering and the formula already rancid. This is the picture of Indians in the UK that she wants to show the world, but to Indians it is offensive. There may be characters like the ones she shows in the film, but there are many more who are not the typically desi types, but you hardly see a Laxmi Mittal in the movies, just the aloo-gobhi stereotypes.
Pity that Shabana Azmi had to endorse such a film by wasting her acting talents on it. The film begins with a force-fed man stomach literally bursting, spraying the operation theatre staff with undigested Indian food. From this sick-making scene, the film just never seems to rise.
The cops in London are baffled by a series of murders of Asians, in bizarre ways— like man smothered with a chapatti, a women killed with a rolling pin and another stabbed with a kabab skewer. Worse, the dead ones hover around as ghosts with the ‘murder weapons’ on their bodies, and as the film progresses get increasingly hideous.
There is no mystery, the killer is Mrs Sethi (Azmi), whose sole aim in life is to get her fat daughter Roopi (Goldy Notay) married, so that she can die in peace and join her departed husband. Investigating the murders is an Indian cop Murthy (Sendhil Ramamurthy), who takes a shine to Roopi, though he just has to date her as part of his undercover duties.
The humour in the film is more nasty than funny, none of the characters is remotely likeable—the most irritating being an English girl who returns from India believing she has psychic powers.
Wonderful is not the adjective of choice to describe this film-- woeful, maybe?
Labels: Cinemaah
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