Rajeev Masand – movies that matter : from bollywood, hollywood and everywhere else

September 28, 2012

Cast: Paresh Rawal, Akshay Kumar, Mahesh Manjrekar, Mithun Chakraborty, Govind Namdeo, Om Puri

Director: Umesh Shukla

Oh My God!, adapted from the popular Gujarati play Kanji Viruddh Kanji (itself evidently inspired by the Australian film, The Man Who Sued God), makes a compelling argument against the commercialization of religion, but the tone of the film is so shrill, the approach so preachy, you feel like you’re being tied down and forced to listen to a sermon for two-and-a-half hours.

Paresh Rawal stars as Kanjibhai Mehta, an antique-store owner in Chor Bazaar, who doesn’t believe in God, but has no qualms exploiting those who do. In an opening scene, he shrewdly manipulates a rich Rajasthani seth into parting with his expensive jewelry in exchange for a religious idol he acquired at a bargain basement price.

When his is the only shop that’s destroyed in an earthquake, Kanjibhai claims insurance for the damage, but is shooed away on the grounds that he isn’t covered against accidents caused by ‘an act of God’. Desperate and bankrupt, Kanjibhai sues both God and the insurance company, insistent that one or the other must compensate him. In court, as he goes about systematically and logically questioning the very existence of God, he’s confronted by an assorted bunch of sadhus, maulvis, priests, and holy men – including an effete swaami played by Mithun Chakraborty – who huff and puff and flare their nostrils each time he refers to them as God’s “salesmen” and to religion as their “dhanda”.

Along the way he finds an unlikely ally in his new houseguest, a perpetually smiling gentleman named Krishna Vasudev Yadav (played by Akshay Kumar), a modern day incarnation of Lord Krishna himself, who arrives from the skies on a swanky motorbike, and proceeds to guide Kanjibhai in this bizarre legal battle.

Despite its unusual, catchy premise, Oh My God!, co-written and directed by Umesh Shukla (who directed the Hindi version of the play that also starred Rawal in the lead), never exploits its full potential. While the film makes a solid case against blind faith, the excesses of religious rituals, and the self-appointed “collection agents” of God, it never sticks its neck out far enough, choosing instead to go with a cop-out ending, as if afraid to be too provocative. What’s more the film can’t shake off its stage-play feel, and suffers from some embarrassingly hammy acting from supporting players like Govind Namdeo, who plays an easily angered godman who’s at the end of his patience.

Still there’s much to enjoy here, including many of the witty dialogues, and particularly Paresh Rawal’s robust performance as the stubborn non-believer on a determined mission. Akshay Kumar, shot mostly in soft focus, a bright glow emanating from his mug, postures and preens throughout, allowing his co-star to do all the heavy lifting here.

In a sea of dumb Bollywood comedies (many starring Akshay Kumar himself), this one at least starts off a debate. For that alone, it’s not entirely a write-off. I’m going with two out of five for Oh My God!. Carry cotton for your ears to drown out all the shouting!

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)

September 21, 2012

Cast: Kareena Kapoor, Arjun Rampal, Randeep Hooda, Divya Dutta, Shahana Goswami, Mugdha Godse, Ranvir Shorey, Sanjay Suri, Helen

Director: Madhur Bhandarkar

In a tense opening scene, an actress, who only moments ago has been hurled out of a car onto the road, enters a police station, her body still trembling, her face smeared with tears and running mascara. Clutching a lit cigarette nervously, she takes a seat before a cop who is persuading her to reveal why she’s in this condition. “Did someone assault you?” he asks.

Heroine, directed by Madhur Bhandarkar opens with genuine promise, but very quickly collapses into a heap of lazy stereotypes. Sadly, the film offers no original insight into the minds of movie stars or the inner workings of the Mumbai film industry – this is a movie that might well have been made by an avid reader of gossip rags; it hardly feels like the work of an experienced filmmaker. At least with Page 3, Corporate and Fashion, Bhandarkar cast an outsider’s eye on different worlds. What’s his excuse for doing such a sloppy job on an industry he belongs to?

Kareena Kapoor stars as Mahi Arora, a top film actress whose rocky relationship with a married star (Arjun Rampal) is hurting her career. Obsessed and insecure about his affections, addicted to alcohol and prescription drugs, and possibly bipolar, she’s a train wreck waiting to happen. What follows is as predictable as the lunch menu at your office canteen – her life is derailed in pursuit of this man.

To reclaim past glory, a ruthless publicist is hired, a new romance is staged, rivals are sabotaged, and a sex tape is leaked. Sleaze, scandal, and drugs are all familiar ingredients in a Bhandarkar film, yet all you’re left with here is one flat cocktail.

The only pleasure Heroine provides is lending itself to a game of Spot The Reference. Bhandarkar litters the film with thinly veiled digs at well-known celebrities: an actress who empties a glass of red wine on the head of her married lover’s wife, a star who seeks to fill the void in her life by adopting a child, a superstar’s wife who has final say in the selection of actresses who can work opposite her skirt-chaser husband, even a Casanova cricketer who spends more time between the sheets with different actresses than on the pitch. Expectedly, there’s also an assembly line of two-faced, bitchy movie stars, gossiping gay designers, and corrupt journalists.

From the very start of Heroine, a sense of gloom and doom haunts this film. Mahi is perpetually in pieces, her eyes red-rimmed with tears or dazed by alcohol and drugs. There is an attempt to infuse some heart in the script when she forms an unlikely bond with a yesteryear star (Helen), or when she shares a tentative friendship with a Bengali art-house actress (Shahana Goswami, flashing enough cleavage to blind you!). But even this track ends up being unintentionally hilarious, when the two girls avoid each other awkwardly the morning after some inebriated ‘fooling around’. “I’m not a lesbian,” says Shahana, apologizing for what must be the worst crime in Madhur Bhandarkar’s book – being gay! In another instance that’ll have you rolling in your seats, Mugdha Godse, playing a top actress desperate to steal an endorsement deal from a rival star, asks her male model friend to sidle up to the “bisexual” corporate honcho in charge of the account.

But these moments offer little entertainment in a film weighed down by its terrible writing. Page 3 and Fashion weren’t particularly competent films, yet they had some semblance of a plot and a narrative, however formulaic. Heroine, on the other hand, is a bunch of scenes in search of a plot.

Of the cast, Randeep Hooda keeps it real as the charming cricketer who falls for Mahi, while Arjun Rampal seems ill-equipped to tackle the role of her mercurial lover. Divya Dutta is convincing as the manipulative PR consultant who’s available to discuss strategy with her client even when she’s in the middle of a bedroom romp. But it’s poor Kareena Kapoor who gets a pretty raw deal in this disappointing film. Mahi isn’t exactly a likeable character, yet Kareena plays the part with utmost sincerity. Matching the film’s over-the-top sensibilities with a deliciously camp performance, she’s the only reason this film is watchable.

Despite an entertaining first half, thanks to all the unintentional laughs, Heroine slips into a slush of melodrama post interval. By this point, it feels interminably long and boring. Bhandarkar loses his grip on the script, and it’s evident that his storytelling now desperately needs reinventing.

I’m going with two out of five for Heroine. It’s pack-up for this one!

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)

September 14, 2012

Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Priyanka Chopra, Ileana D’cruz, Saurabh Shukla, Rupa Ganguly, Akash Khurana

Director: Anurag Basu

That rare film that puts a smile on your face even before a single frame of the story is revealed, Anurag Basu’s Barfi envelopes you like a warm blanket from the moment you settle into your seat. Even as routine acknowledgements appear on a black screen, you’re charmed by the accompanying ditty, Picture shuru, whose chorus instructs you to switch off your phones and submit yourself to the experience that follows.

There’s a lot that’s admirable about Barfi, particularly the simplicity of its characters and their actions. This is a film about inherently decent people faced with tough decisions. There are no villains in this story, only honest people who make wrong choices occasionally.

Ironic then that Basu himself suffers the same affliction… Not content telling a simple story without any fuss, he complicates the narrative with confusing timelines and a needless whodunit subplot. But more on that later.

Spanning forty years in the life of Murphy — or Barfi as he calls himself — a poor chauffeur’s son played by Ranbir Kapoor, the film unfolds in the early 1970s. He’s a happy-go-lucky deaf-mute boy in Darjeeling, forever on the run from a portly cop (Saurabh Shukla) for his petty misdemeanors. Doffing their hats to Chaplin in these comical chases, Basu and his star deliver a range of delightful slapstick moments.

Barfi falls for the delicately pretty Shruti (Ileana D’cruz), whom he woos relentlessly. But, in a scene lifted straight out of The Notebook, Shruti is reminded why their romance can have no happy ending. In a later scene, one of the best in this film, Barfi wordlessly acknowledges the gaping divide between Shruti and himself. Gesturing towards his torn pockets, his ripped shoe, his inability to hear or speak, Ranbir beautifully conveys Barfi’s deep hurt at being rejected. His life finds new meaning when he’s saddled with his childhood friend Jhilmil (Priyanka Chopra), an autistic girl belonging to a wealthy local family.

The film works best as a love story, and Basu infuses humor and heart into the relationships between his three leads. There are lots of lovely little gems in Barfi, like those moments in which our hero repeatedly ‘plucks’ his heart out and offers it to Shruti. Or the test of unconditional friendship that Barfi puts his loved ones through, that involves a collapsing streetlight. How can you not break into a smile when Barfi exposes his own leg to a fellow passenger leering at Jhilmil’s bare calves during a truck journey?

Yet these lovely bits are offset by a messy screenplay packed with too many flashbacks, and a long-drawn second half that doesn’t benefit from the Gone Baby Gone-inspired subplot about a botched kidnapping. The tone now shifts abruptly from gentle humor and quirky romance to clunky suspense.

And yet, despite the indulgences, it’s hard to overlook the sheer skill invested in this enterprise, starting with Ravi Varman’s remarkable cinematography. Each frame is lovingly composed, the camera caressing those Darjeeling and Calcutta landscapes with unmistakable affection. Pritam’s music, some of his best work yet, is an assortment of charming melodies that lace the silences in place of dialogues. Basu particularly films the title song, Aala Barfi with startling originality.

Filling out smaller roles with relatively lesser-seen but fine actors like Rupa Ganguly (as Shruti’s mother) and Akash Khurana (as Barfi’s father), Basu draws heartfelt performances from his committed cast. Ileana leaves a lasting impression in her Hindi film debut, conveying both love and pain through those beautiful, expressive eyes. Priyanka escapes the typical pitfalls of playing an autistic character, making Jhilmil a wholly believable girl whom your heart goes out to.

The film, however, belongs to our silent hero, and Ranbir Kapoor owns the part completely. Never turning Barfi into a caricature or a stereotype, Ranbir adds wonderful layers to this seemingly simple fellow, and once again proves why he is his only competition.

Sadly, Basu’s film goes on too long and drags its feet in the end. Barfi had the potential to be great cinema, but as it stands it’s a respectable film that’s still better than a lot else you’re likely to see. I’m going with three out of five for director Anurag Basu’s Barfi. It’s a treat like the mithai it takes its name from. Go on, indulge your sweet tooth.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)