Here is a test to try one’s patience and willpower. Go watch a film and pray to God, that it doesn’t last more than 2 hours and that it can hold your attention for the duration. Now add another x factor- Say you were really hungry or worse you needed to relieve yourself. How would you deal with the situation if you are indeed conflicted with the stubbornness not to miss out on the viewing! I propose, that if you can actually endure or even forget those urges, in some level the movie has done its job. How so, you ask? Well, consider this; the experience of watching should be such that you shouldn’t realize you are actually watching something artificial and constructed. That’s why it’s extremely rude to have your phone on, talking obnoxiously loud (if at all) or bringing along clamouring children who won’t shut up. All this ruptures you from your suspended belief that for that moment you are not only visually being stimulated you have been assimilated into a lively act of celluloid magic. Anyhow, yesterday, I was unfortunate to have put this theory to the test by watching Sawariya and Om Shanti Om, back to back. So to Shah Rukh and company, who chime in stating the purpose of movies is to have fairytailed, nicely wrapped up happy endings. I counter by suggesting it is partially to transfer the spectator into a world that is far removed yet strangely resonating with his own humanity. The following are the acute observations I have transcribed after watching these movies.
SPOILER ALERT to the odd hundred people who haven’t seen the following films as of yet (hence why I held back on posting these ramblings till today)
Having lined up 25 minutes prior to the showing of Om Shanti Om- I was destined to being denied of the, o’ so needed “bollywood masala show”, as tickets were sold out. So I settled in for the lesser of two evils (sorry Sanjay, not to hurt your ego, but there is more than enough to get you by for this lifetime). Alright, so I heard the movie was a rich tapestry of visuals but lacked a soul. Not to be deterred by such vagaries I sat in and thus spoke Bansali… Magnificent sets- as the first thought of the panoramic view brings me into a strange familiarity of Moulin Rouge. Then it takes about 15 minutes for me to get use to the blue tint- in this depressingly painted world. All the staged prostitutes singing in harmony remind me of my school choir singing as the background score in our plays. I started to think that this was a rather lavish and opulent set for a play- I mean play. After all to adapt a short play into a film requires intense restructuring and a knack of understanding that film is a different medium than theatre. Rani plays the narrator and who would have thought that the same people who use to complain about her voice articulation, would accept her so whole heartedly for her narration. Let’s get this out of the way, Ranbir plays an excessive in your face homage to Raj Kapoor, right from the way he prances, and frolics about to the way he is dressed with a top hat. Mind you if that doesn’t register there are signs of RK fluorescent lights all over the place. Did I mention Ranbir’s characters name is Raj. All in all, this movie was the equivalence of a dumbed down version of hum dil de chuke sanam. Now finally we are introduced to Sonam Kapoor who for the love of me comes across as a mindless puppet mouthing lines without forming a relatable character. As for her acting she does a few over the top giggles and shrieks. All well and good if this was a dramatic recitation. There is this one carpet scene, where she had a chance to display some histrionics- but she cops out by playing her own tribute to Ashwariya, by mimicking her mannerisms. At least with Ranbir Kapoor you get to see over the top acting and dancing along with yo-yo- yodeling. To his credit he does manage to have different facial expressions for each scene. I applaud him for his capability to display all those facial nuances. Rani Mukerjee on the other hand has got years of experience playing one rosy cheerful prostitute after another- So her performance goes wasted but she has that unexplainable rage scene where you get to see some remnants of her glory. Between the two caricatures, I mean protagonists there is yet another. An inhuman looking zombie, who visits one day, sleeps with Sonam and recites his finale lines, all without a single flinch in his artificial eyes. In other words this infamous person is none other than, Salman Khan- whose character arc ranges from knocking on a door to knocking Sakina up(upside down, may I add).
I am still curious as to why they don’t get pneumonia with all this walking about in rain and snow for three straight days in Venice (or wherever this is suppose to be). The songs seemed gimmicky and poorly incorporated, barring a few exceptions. Did I mention how the sets were excellent and what a relief the green lights were, after seeing so much blue, I started getting the blues. Not to mention my face was turning purple by this time controlling my bladder. It is my humble prediction that it will at least take 5-6 movies for Sonam to get her act right. Whereas being born to the highest pedigree of the Kapoor family, Ranbir will get it right in another one or two. That’s saying a lot, considering most actors take a host of movies to get acquainted with the craft. But the luxury lies in the fact that they will undoubtingly get their chance to act again and again, as long as they chose to do so.
Why this film didn’t click with me was simple, the set design and cinematography were undeniably leap years ahead of any Hindi film I had seen thus far. But it goes back to the rudiments of what I was saying, to keep me interested I need to empathize with the characters and not two dimensional stick figures. I saw frustrated viewers both young and old, and sure Bansali banked on his reputation to get them there, but the damage had been done. Sure the end was clichéd- wait did I mention nature won and I bailed out 5 minutes premature of the ending. Why, did anything profound happen? Judging from the long faces that strolled out I highly doubt that people were wowed by the story of a guy who lost out on the love of his life and was destined to share the same fate as the hookers and grandma Lollipop as catharsis. But then to have an abrupt ending like that can only be explained by the insane bill for lighting a set of that grandeur. I suppose the light technicians called “lights out” and they were rushed to salvage the movie with an inconsequential ending. For seriously, where were those grey shades that we look for in a Bansali film- was burning the letter it, because it sure fizzled away in my memory. Mind you this isn’t a review; they are my comments so I felt personally offended with the premise of being duped by a girl because she has the attention span of a five year old. The poor hapless victim is left with the comfort of, I loved her for a song; I will cherish this for the rest of my vagrant life. Had it a slightly different angle, where the protagonist, goes about in self destruct afterwards (not like Devdas), then the climax could have been moved 20 minutes earlier and I would have had some closure.
On a parting note I have noticed the recent turn of events: being a proponent of equal opportunities, but to disrobe men in the name of equality seems absurd. But something tells me it wasn’t done in the name of equality but simply to exploit male sexuality to sell tickets. I am not complaining, it’s only fair after 30 odd years of ample cleavage being shown- how dare I complain about a bum cheek!!! I’ll let you know what happened to me at OSM if time permits
TO BE CONTINUED……
