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

December 18, 2015

Cast: Shah Rukh Khan, Kajol, Varun Dhawan, Kriti Sanon, Varun Sharma, Boman Irani, Johnny Lever, Sanjay Mishra, Vinod Khanna, Kabir Bedi, Mukesh Tiwari, Pankaj Tripathi

Director: Rohit Shetty

It’s very hard to describe Rohit Shetty’s Dilwale as anything other than a mixed cuisine buffet, given that it tries to offer a little bit of everything to please just about everyone. You want comedy? Come on over, we’ve got Johnny Lever, Sanjay Mishra, Boman Irani, and Varun Sharma. You want action? We’ve got fists flying, guns blazing, cars flipping. Romance, did you say? Step right in; we’ve got Bollywood’s favorite 90s pair thawing the bergs in Iceland with their combustible chemistry. And if you like your stars younger, we’ll throw in two up-and-coming heartthrobs to make your day. For what it’s worth, the film even has that most elusive, rarest-of-rare secret weapons – it’s got a story, I kid you not.

With so much going for it, it would take a special kind of talent to still come up short. But Dilwale, with all its bells and whistles, is far from a sure thing.

Veer (Varun Dhawan) meets Ishita (Kriti Sanon); the two quickly fall in love and become desperate to get married. But there’s a hitch. Veer’s elder brother Raj (Shah Rukh Khan) is hiding a dark secret. He was once a gangster in Bulgaria who went by the name Kaali. Turns out he has a history with Ishita’s sister Meera (Kajol), and let’s just say it isn’t pretty.

Buried somewhere beneath those juvenile comic tracks – involving Johnny Lever as a petty thief, Sanjay Mishra as a stolen car-parts salesman, and Boman Irani as a local don searching his missing drugs – there’s at least one good twist, and a few charming moments between Shah Rukh and Kajol who still manage to light up the screen. Varun Dhawan flexes every facial muscle to embrace the film’s hammy humor, but redeems himself in a nice emotional exchange with Shah Rukh in the film’s last act.

The real problem with Dilwale is the sheer artificiality of the enterprise. From the rainbow-hued sets and the touched-up landscapes in the Gerua song, to many moments of comedic and emotional payoff, so much of it just feels fake.

Doesn’t help either that the film clocks in at a butt-numbing 155 minutes. I got up to leave at three different points that I imagined were the climax, only to discover that there was still more to come. Never a good sign when you’re looking at your watch instead of the screen.

I’m going with two out of five for Dilwale.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)

December 18, 2015

Cast: Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone, Priyanka Chopra, Tanvi Azmi, Milind Soman, Mahesh Manjrekar, Vaibhav Tatwawdi

Director: Sanjay Leela Bhansali

There are a few things one has come to take for granted in a Sanjay Leela Bhansali film: a stunning visual aesthetic, immaculately choreographed songs, and an imposing sense of scale. His latest, Bajirao Mastani, doesn’t disappoint on any of those counts. This sweeping period piece, set in the early 18th century, focuses on a forbidden romance that consumed Bajirao Ballal Bhat, a brave general credited with expanding the Maratha Empire and winning every one of the 41 battles he fought. But the film also suffers from a condition one might describe as ‘Bhansali-it is’ – the tendency to be melodramatic, over-long, and highly indulgent.

That’s a shame because Bajirao Mastani hits the ground running. Love blossoms between the peshwa (Ranveer Singh) and Mastani (Deepika Padukone), daughter of a Bundelkhand Maharaja, after our hero defeats a Mughal army poised to invade her father’s kingdom. He ends up upsetting just about everyone when he marries her: from his wife Kashibai (Priyanka Chopra) and his mother (Tanvi Azmi), to the Brahmin priests who reject Mastani because of her Muslim blood.

The film then is largely about Bajirao’s continuing struggles to seek respectability for Mastani. Bhansali and his writers script compelling confrontations between his characters to draw out the drama. There is heartbreak, humiliation, sacrifice, and more than a few powerful moments that pack a punch. An attack on Mastani late in the film is impressively staged, as is a scene in which Kashibai witnesses her husband’s indiscretion in a conveniently placed mirror. Not to mention the film’s opening battle sequence, which is nothing short of terrific.

The narrative, however, is hobbled by too many songs, and post-intermission your patience wears thin. As Bajirao and Mastani sink deeper into their doomed relationship, and a dignified Kashibai holds up the third part of this triangle, the film starts to suffer from a hangover of Bhansali’s own Devdas. What’s surprising is the lack of heat in the romance between Bajirao and Mastani. The actors sizzled in Ram-Leela, but their relationship is strictly PG-13 this time around. Frankly, more sparks fly between Bajirao and Kashibai in a scene where she sneaks up on him in the bath.

Like in the director’s previous films, supporting actors serve up strong performances. Azmi is suitably intimidating as the tough matriarch, and Vaibhav Tatwawdi makes a big impression as Bajirao’s brother Chimaji. As far as central roles go, the film benefits from a nice touch of playfulness and humor in Priyanka Chopra’s Kashibai. Your heart goes out to her in scenes where she must confront the fact that she’s not Bajirao’s great love. Chopra brings grace to the character, and practically steals the film. Deepika Padukone as Mastani is a woman of exquisite beauty. You’re captivated by the heft that Padukone lends to her fight scenes, or when her eyes speak more of her suffering than words. Her character, though, is strictly one-dimensional and therefore tedious. Ranveer Singh, meanwhile, has a commanding physicality as the warrior hero, and he completely inhabits the part. He imbues Bajirao with a fiery spirit, and yet allows his vulnerabilities to occasionally slip. It’s a big ‘showy’ part, and the actor doesn’t disappoint.

Ultimately you can’t help being overwhelmed by Sudeep Chatterjee’s eye-watering frames, and the elegant production design. Bhansali delivers a film that’s artistic but exhausting. I’m going with three out of five.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)

December 04, 2015

Cast: Sandhya Mridul, Sarah Jane-Dias, Tannishtha Chatterjee, Anushka Manchanda, Pavleen Gujral, Amrit Maghera, Rajshree Deshpande, Adil Hussain, Arjun Mathur

Director: Pan Nalin

Angry Indian Goddesses contains every cliché you’d expect to see in a film that’s been billed as ‘India’s first female buddy movie’. From women getting facials together, to playing Truth or Dare…from talking frankly about sex and ogling the dishy neighbor, to polishing off a box of cupcakes…the film ticks all the boxes. Yet it seldom feels contrived, thanks to the natural performances of its ensemble, and director Pan Nalin’s non-intrusive, observational style of filming.

The women in question here are Freida (Sarah Jane-Dias), a photographer whose art often clashes with her job; Suranjana (Sandhya Mridul), a corporate shark struggling with the work-family balance; Pammi (Pavleen Gujral), a Delhi housewife whose entrepreneurial ambitions are thwarted by her husband; Mad (Anushka Manchanda), a rocker whose music isn’t selling; and half-Brit-half Indian wannabe actress Joanna (Amrit Maghera), who’s desperate to find anything more substantial than damsel-in-distress bit parts in B-movies.

The BFFs arrive at Freida’s home in Goa and quickly discover that they’ve been invited to participate in her wedding, although she won’t reveal the identity of her spouse-to-be just yet. Thrown into this mix is Laxmi (Rajshree Deshpande), Freida’s trusted maid, who’s dealing with unresolved issues of her own. The mood becomes tense temporarily with the arrival of another friend, Nargis (Tannishtha Chatterjee), an activist embroiled in a land dispute with Suranjana.

You can’t help but root for these women as they let their hair down, carping freely about life, complaining about the prejudices they face daily, and pointing out that women themselves are their own worst enemies. It’s easy to dismiss them as caricatures, except that their conflicts feel real and there’s a genuinely empowering quality to their frankness.

It’s true that Nalin crams the film with too many issues, but the improv approach of his leading ladies lends these scenes an element of surprise, which is refreshing. They go from cynical to angry to joyful within moments, and you’re happy to take the ride with them.

The tone shifts abruptly in the film’s final act when an incident triggers off its vigilante-motivated climax. It’s easy to see why Nalin may have chosen to articulate the film’s empowerment message, but it feels unmistakably manipulative and misguided.

Still I’m going with three out of five for Angry Indian Goddesses. Using humor and pathos, it raises pertinent questions. You’ll be happy to spend two hours in the company of these ladies.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)