Filmi Review

Cast: Shreyas Talpade, Amrita Rao
Director: Shyam Benegal




Bhelcome, o, bhelcome- all you sajjan members of the audience. Benegal Babu's latest phillum is one rather unsatisfying chillum and leaves one with mixed feelings, as by its end it clearly overstays its bhelcome. Welcome To Sajjanpur is that breeze of fresh air that doesn't quite blow you away.

What it's about: The film is a social satire set in a quaint North Indian village with its unique bunch of colorful characters- or as many may argue- caricatures. The film unfolds through the eyes of Mahadev (played by Shreyas Talpade), an aspiring novelist, who being the only literate individual in the hamlet earns a living by writing eloquently worded letters for the many illiterate people in the village. The film and its characters thus unfold through the protagonist's bittersweet encounters with them.

What didn't work: Okay, bad things first. There's not much of a story here, in the first place, and the film depends almost totally on its characters, most of which are hardly memorable or exceptionally performed. The satirical yarn is more preachy than sharp, and at nearly three hours, it clearly begins to descend into tedium. Perhaps the makers realized this, and hence we have an abruptly wrapped up end that leaves us even more dissatisfied. Shantanu Moitra's music, barring the peppy and upbeat Sitaram number, is tepid and eminently forgettable, besides the fact that the listlessly picturised songs only hamper the narrative. The film also often feels oddly staged and the writing very play-like, and while this may be deliberate, it somehow doesn't really work. But the main flaw here is the screenplay, which meanders way too much into fickle subplots, many of which are pretty pointless.

What worked: Shreyas Talpade. The actor mostly reduced to playing sidekicks finally gets his due in a film again after Iqbal and Dor, and he doesn't disappoint. Talpade is endearing and earnest and he is definitely the glue that keeps you on your seat and the disjointed screenplay from falling apart totally. Writer Ashok Mishra may have faltered otherwise, but he writes with an assured hand, and his dialogues even when risqué have an old-world charm and understated quality to them. Of the supporting cast, watch out for Ravi Jhankal who is clearly the standout in the supporting cast for his stellar and spirited portrayal of the feisty eunuch Munnibai. While it lacks it depth or coherence, Welcome To Sajjanpur is clearly both well intentioned and socially responsible, both salient features of all of Shyam Benegal's films.

Bottom line: People expecting too much out of Shyam Benegal, considering his past body of work are bound to be disappointed. Still, the weight of expectation aside Welcome To Sajjanpur is not a bad watch- it's honest cinema that's rare to come by these days, even if it is ultimately deeply flawed.

Hmm. I wonder if RK Laxman would approve. The legendary cartoonist's mild, submissive and quietly accepting Common Man finds a voice and a startling new avatar this week in Neeraj Pandey's debut feature A Wednesday. This 'Stupid Common Man' is superbly embodied and brought to life by Naseeruddin Shah- undoubtedly one of the finest actors this country has produced- and it's truly a casting masterstroke, as Shah's unnerving presence defines the soul of the film.

A Wednesday is about well, as the somewhat cheesy sounding title puts it- a Wednesday, but needless to say; this is no ordinary day of the week. The Mumbai Commissioner of Police, Prakash Rathod (Anupam Kher) receives a call from an unknown number, and the cold voice at the other end calmly informs him that he has planted a number of bombs throughout the city, and demands the release of four terrorists in return for disclosing the exact locations of these bombs.

A Wednesday is a no-frills thriller- tightly scripted and directed by Neeraj Pandey for the most part- and makes for a fairly impressive first for the filmmaker. Even though the film is often conveniently naïve and simplistic, and often resorts to some unnecessary loudness and repetitiveness, the film makes a strong statement- one that is rather politically incorrect, and even terrifying in its leaning towards anarchy- without being blatantly didactic.

So even while I find myself complaining and cribbing about the film's lack of significant depth, A Wednesday does make an eminently watchable film despite the fact that it neither has the emotional heft of Mumbai Meri Jaan or subtle sophistication and subtext of Aamir. It's short, riveting and mercifully never pretends to pause and think too much and is crisp and crunchy enough to make a good popcorn watch.

Much of this is thanks to the very competent cast including Anupam Kher (in pretty good, no-nonsense form), Jimmy Shergill and Aamir Bashir who give the film substance and credibility, something that Deepal Shaw's terribly annoying lip-glossed reporter act constantly threatens to take away.

The rest of the supporting cast is pure cardboard, but frankly- it hardly matters when Naseeruddin Shah's out there sitting on top of a desolate building, chewing the scenery with alarming nonchalance. It's clearly an author-backed role, and Shah is at his effortless best here in a lean, solid performance that is both chillingly convincing and filled with humor and unpredictability as he delivers a knockout punch.

It is probably on purpose that Shah's character is kept as a menacing shadow instead of being a full-fledged, flesh and blood character, but his performance actually made me wish that the film was about him and delved deeper into this potentially fascinating character. Because while it's none of my business to dictate the story a filmmaker chooses to tell, I can't help but get the niggling feeling that that could truly have made this A Very Memorable Wednesday.

I confess I am not a rock music aficionado. And I guess I am too young and with too little experience to completely identify with the theme of dreams and aspirations crushed by the cruelty of fate and life. I am perhaps still building my dreams, and maybe that's why I didn't respond as emotionally to Rock On as many others have.

For Rock On is really not so much about music, as it is about following your passion and living your dreams. It is about the regret, disappointment and frustration that inevitably haunt a life fueled by compromise, but as rocker-turned-investment-banker Aditya Shroff (Farhan Akhtar) says in the film- 'Compromise kaun nahi karta?'

The first half of Rock On is too glum for its own good, and having established Aditya and Co. as tortured, unhappy souls, one wishes that the screenplay writers Abhishek Kapoor and Pubali Choudhary spent more time and energy establishing the friendship and camaraderie among the band, and their past journey till when they fall apart. The fun, madness and humour are almost completely missing, and that's where Rock On fails to do a Dil Chahta Hai.

The male bonding just doesn't come across strongly enough, and the film turns soggy, even boring- I mean come on, the rock band in this movie is so unbelievably scrubbed clean, it is not funny- and in that context it is only perhaps fitting that they sing songs with embarrassingly nursery rhyme lyrics that go- 'Aasmaan hai neela kyon, Paani geela geela kyon, Gol kyon hai zameen' and have a name like Magik.

So while there are two instances of some cool great tongue-in-cheek humour- including that hilarious scene where the band is forced to do a dandiya gig to raise money, and another one that takes a dig at the corny and poisonous-sounding lyrics that feature in songs by young rock bands- the film struggles to find its feet and rhythm, uncomfortably shuttling between past and present.

That said, the second half, while equally predictable works way better than the first, and it's really a pity because provided a more solid foundation earlier, it could have worked wonders. The feeling of reminiscence and nostalgia doesn't quite reach our nostrils in the latter part of the film simply because the film doesn't give us enough to reminisce about in the former. Still, some clichés (and-spoiler alert- an unforgivably soppy and unnecessary brain tumour angle) apart, the nicely understated humour, emotional moments and most importantly, the performances keep you hooked on till the neatly drawn and fairly rousing end.

Farhan Akhtar may not exactly be a great singer (and while he doesn't sound awful, I do hope he restricts any future singing to the shower), he impresses with a confident and mature debut performance. Prachi Desai also scores in her big-screen debut, and she is delicate and vulnerable without turning into saccharine. Arjun Rampal (looking every inch a rock star) and Luke Kenny are nicely restrained, while Purab Kohli is his usual endearing and affable self, adding that dose of cheer when the film needs it the most. But the standout here is clearly Shahana Goswami, who despite having a brief role manages to more than make her presence felt, every glance of hers effectively portraying the pain and angst of a woman who sacrifices her own dreams for her family's sake, forced to be harshly pragmatic, take charge and wear the pants in the house as her husband (Rampal) struggles with his failed idealism.

Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy's music while decent could have been way better, and the love ballads work way better than the other tracks which lack that quality to lift us off our feet. What really deserves applause is Jason West's superb photography that is as stylish and textured as it is beautifully evocative.

Rock On is a lovely, almost fable-like story that uses music as a metaphor for life and all we hold dear in it, and would probably be loved by many viewers for various personal reasons- and I can completely understand why- because when a film's story touches that chord deep within, the heart takes over the head and the film transcends its cinematic artifice.

For someone like me, however- Rock On is, after all, another movie and there is no denying that the cinematic potential contained within the story is far from exploited to its fullest. Rock On takes way too long to take off, and when it finally does, the sheer adrenalin rush we deserved from this film is missing, and hence, while Abhishek Kapoor's second film is a laudable effort which often surprises you with its subtle layering, it does fall short, and that makes me feel sad- for this could truly have been Magik.

Ah. Finally, it has come- that breeze of fresh air, that booster dose of good, genuine and honest cinema that keeps our cynicism in check, that removes the horrible bitterness that follows months of suffocatingly plastic films that leave you gasping for breath and hope.

Hope comes this Friday in the form of Nishikant Kamat's heart-hitting Mumbai Meri Jaan- hope not only for the future of Indian cinema but also for peace and humanity. A magnificent tribute to the much-abused 'Spirit of Mumbai', Kamat's first Hindi feature (after helming the much acclaimed Dombivli Fast) could be well called India's answer to Crash, but this original and superbly written and performed film deserves better- praise on its own terms, and not through ubiquitous comparisons.

Mumbai Meri Jaan is based on the tragic bomb blasts that hit Mumbai on July 11, 2006, targeting the very veins of the city, the local trains and shaking up the very heart of the city. But rather than being a scalpel that opens those wounds, Mumbai Meri Jaan acts as a healing balm, one that gently rouses and lifts the spirit.

Writers Yogesh Vinayak Joshi and Upendra Sidhaye create a detailed, engrossing script that's thoroughly real, relatable and laced with compelling characters and a wonderful sense of humour- at once both full of comforting warmth and tongue-in-cheek sarcasm. With the backdrop of a terrifying tragedy, the journey of the six main characters of the film vividly delves into the human psychology of fear, hatred, frustration and acceptance. The writing is intelligent, sensitive and serves as a showcase of topical issues without being didactic or preachy, and salutes the city of Mumbai without losing objectivity.

The terrific ensemble cast (one of the best assembled in a Hindi film in a long time) does more than justice to the painstakingly drawn characters, and the performances are all first-rate. Soha Ali Khan couldn't quite take the weight of her demandingly complex character in Khoya Khoya Chand, and she is a lot more in command here playing a journalist who has no qualms about turning stories of human suffering into sensational scoops until a personal tragedy makes the tables turn on her in an almost surreal manner while she looks on helplessly.

Irrfan Khan crafts yet another gripping portrayal as a Tamilian coffee vendor who struggles in frustration to find space for himself in a city that seems to no longer want him. Kay Kay Menon is brilliant as an out-of-work computer salesman who is on the fringes of being a fanatic, underlining his performance with his trademark deadpan comic timing. R. Madhavan is nicely subtle and understated in his role as a man scarred by the blasts and fractured by fear. But the best parts of the film are undoubtedly the ones featuring the Guru-Shishya pair of cops played awesomely by Paresh Rawal and Vijay Maurya. They complement each other beautifully, Maurya's hot-headedness and raw vulnerability serving as a perfect foil for Rawal's character, who with experience has learnt to deal with the unfairness of life with humour.

Maurya is a revelation, but it is Paresh Rawal who stands shoulders above the rest with a humble but towering performance. Each wrinkle on his face reflects the wisdom, pain and understanding accumulated over years of a career with no apparently significant achievement (At his farewell, all that his immediate senior can muster in praise of him is that he cracked wonderful jokes). But while he may not know it, it is he who truly embodies the unbeatable, resilient spirit of the city, and that is his real accomplishment. What joy it is to see one of our country's most skilled and underused actors finally feature in a film that does justice to those vast reservoirs of talent lying wasted all this while. Rawal is good as gold, and in a film full of delicious dialogue he is given to best lines, and he delivers them with the calm assurance of a veteran. Even when the film teeters towards tedium, Rawal is the jaan of Mumbai Meri Jaan keeping the film throbbing and alive.

Technically too, the film is first rate- while the fact that Kamat's direction is outstanding is a given, Sanjay Jadhav's gritty camerawork splendidly captures the ethos of the film and the city, and the background score is resonating, quite like the film itself.

Yes, the film isn't without it's faults- the Soha Ali Khan track is a tad weak and unconvincing in comparison to the others - why she would willingly allow herself to become a victim is something one can't really fathom completely, and the writers' keenness to wrap up everything neatly means that the film is about 15 minutes too late by the time it reaches its wonderful culmination. But quibbles aside- it's still an experience that's not to be missed, and besides, when art mirrors life so closely and beautifully, it's only apt that it too, like life, is forgiven its minor imperfections.