THE LAND OF THE RISING SON
Sarkar Jr. expands his concerns from Mumbai to all of Maharashtra in an ambitious sequel that sees Ram Gopal Varma back in form. Plus, a thriller that thinks.
JUNE 8, 2008 – AT ONE LEVEL, RAM GOPAL VARMA’S SEQUEL to his Sarkar is merely a gimmicky whodunit – a super-stylised, mob-world murder mystery that requires the film to stop dead in its tracks, towards the end, in order to accommodate a Poirot-ish summation about exactly happened and why. Just who could have carried out that shocking execution, which, in its ruthless contempt for audience identification for and empathy with a character, appears to echo Psycho? Yes, we know who actually carried out the killing. It’s the assassin built up as a man of mystery, whose face is never shown – and who’s later dismissed simply as “woh khooni,” that killer. (Trust Varma to make us anticipate a dramatic reveal about the identity of this murderer and sneakily strand us without the rug under our feet.)
But whose hands were those that were pulling this assassin’s strings? Could the puppeteer be Hassan Qazi (Govind Namdev, in a pencil moustache that instantly telegraphs his disreputability), the smarmy deal-fixer who (correctly) labels Sarkar (Amitabh Bachchan) as “neta ki libaas mein ek gunda,” a mobster posing as a messiah? Or perhaps it’s Kantilal Vohra (Upendra Limaye), the businessman who fulfills the dual function of (a) throwing a well-aimed spanner in the direction of Shankar (Abhishek Bachchan), the Sarkar scion, who’s working towards consolidating and expanding his father’s empire, and (b) continuing the tradition of annoying supporting characters from the earlier film (here, Vohra is prone to impromptu bursts of Hindi film songs).
But even as Sarkar Raj goads you along these directions, leaving you to untangle its murder-mystery knots, you realise that – at another level – it’s a sly, out-of-the-movie critique that, in his lifetime, Bachchan Jr. can never break out of his father’s shadow. Forget the explicit development in the film that points to this, which you’ve got to see to believe – even the way Shankar is introduced to us is from the shadows; he emerges noiselessly, like a ghost. Just as Sarkar riffed on The Godfather – something that Varma acknowledged on screen, that he was paying tribute to the gangster classic – Sarkar Raj works variations around The Godfather: Part II. Here too, early on, Shankar/Michael escapes an attempt on his life, and we’re aware of this because the family’s trusted lieutenant Chandar (the excellent Ravi Kale) is interrogating the suspect.
It plays like a two-person scene – a showy two-person scene, shot in Varma’s instantly identifiable style, contrasting light and darkness – until a disembodied hand reaches out from what appears to be nowhere, and switches off a recording that incriminates this suspect. The hand belongs to Shankar, of course – and he’s literally inhabiting the shadows that his father lurked in earlier. (Sarkar, meanwhile, is outside, in the brightest of sunlight, waving to the crowds gathered below to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. If you sense a grandfatherly benevolence behind his smile, it’s possibly due to the relief that he’s no longer shouldering the weight of his raj, which has now shifted to his sullen son. Uneasy lies the head, etcetera.)
Varma keeps Shankar in the dark in more ways than this one, in the sense that it’s impossible to fully read this character. (And as a result, what Abhishek Bachchan is asked to do – and does very well – isn’t to deliver a performance so much as embody a presence; in contrast, his father walks away with all the plum drama.) There’s a lovely, little moment in the household when Sarkar discovers that Avanti (Tanisha, playing Shankar’s wife) is pregnant. He wants to give his blessing, and he has no money on him, so he asks Chandar to loan him Rs. 101. It’s a light scene, played for laughs, until a (somewhat awkward) segue brings about memories of Vishnu, the family’s elder son who was killed in the earlier film.
The mood changes in an instant, and Shankar tells his father that he doesn’t regret murdering his brother, that they should all forget about it and move on. What’s strange, though, is that a few scenes earlier, he’s confessed something quite different to Anita (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan), an NRI industrialist who’s trying to set up a power plant in Maharashtra. (In a film that’s about doing whatever it takes to be on top, how fascinating that even the plant has to do with power.) She seeks him out for help – because entire villages have to be cleared to make way for her dream project – and for some inexplicable reason, they begin to bond, and he shares with her his angst over the murder of his brother.
And you wonder, why is he able to relate to her in ways that he cannot with his own father, or even his wife? Why does he let her get away with referring to him as “tum” and not “aap,” as you’d expect from a relationship that revolves primarily around the workplace? Could it be because, unlike Avanti or his mother – wearing silks and worrying about the consistency of sheera – Anita, with her pantsuits and her professional accomplishments, is, finally, a woman who’s his equal? (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan is perfectly cast as this flinty overachiever. With another actress, we may have complained that this role is underwritten, because we’d be looking for reasons that made Anita tick, but Aishwarya exudes such power and confidence that these considerations become redundant.)
And besides, what is Shankar’s investment in this power project? “Baap bete ko samaj seva ka bada shauq hai,” sneers Qazi, at one point, and even if you accept this at face value – that the Sarkar family is into social service – it’s not clear why Shankar is suddenly concerned about the whole of Maharashtra. (He feels the power plant will result in much good for his home state.) Even Anita is allowed a sliver of motivation in the form of unresolved daddy issues, when she confesses to Shankar that this may be her one chance to show her always-a-boss-never-a-father what she’s capable of. She even snags a wee bit of a character arc, as she navigates a Swades-like trajectory from lugging around bottles of mineral water to drinking directly from a hand pump in a village.
But Shankar, he’s stuck resolutely in those shadows – and that’s when something clicked and I fully understood why Varma’s remake of Sholay didn’t work. Over the years – and possibly from Naach onwards – this most idiosyncratic of directors has developed a style where narrative coherence is of the least importance. He’s less interested in beginnings and middles and ends, in mapping out rounded narratives with rounded characters, than in presenting only those aspects of the story that catch his oddball fancy – and if that means showing us what someone is thinking, by means of an endless close-up, even if we’re not sure what’s going on in that person’s head, then so be it. (And the reason Aag failed so miserably is that a perfectly constructed narrative like Sholay is rendered unrecognisable when presented to us in this best-of format. It’s as ridiculous as Mel Brooks’ Highlights from Hamlet in To Be or Not To Be.)
But when the subject matter proves malleable to this style, this vision – as is the case here – it doesn’t become a particular problem that, for instance, Shankar remains a shadowy cipher. (For that matter, Varma never thought it important in Sarkar either, to detail Shankar’s transformation from law-abiding NRI to flag-bearer of his father’s criminal empire.) This is a very strange type of filmmaking (at least in an Indian mainstream context), in which we’re being asked to respond not to our understanding of a character but the filmmaker’s perception of him (or her) – because we get only selective snapshots of Shankar, selected by the director – and if it works in Sarkar Raj, it’s because this is such a mythic story, whose beginnings and middles and ends are fairly imprinted in our minds from earlier myths, like The Godfather: Part II.
At its broadest, Sarkar Raj is simply Highlights from The Godfather: Parts I and II, but distorted through Varma’s engaging, what-if fantasies. If it was interesting to see, in Sarkar, how the director conflated the characters of the elder son of the Sarkar household (Vishnu) and the middle son of the Corleone family (the weak, volatile, traitorous Fredo), it’s fascinating, here, to see how Shankar – seemingly the embodiment of all things Michael, that other dweller in the dark – takes on aspects of the rash, hotheaded Sonny when he single-handedly sets out to rescue the victim of a kidnapping. Even in its byzantine interplay of business and politics, Sarkar Raj follows the template of the Godfather sequel, which abandoned the simpler dramatic effects of its predecessor and opted for an ambitious overview of the perils of power.
Varma, at one point, presents us with an under-view of this power – when he (very literally) shoots a key player from under a swing in a manner that reveals simply a dangling leg, which even Sarkar supplicates before. That one shot tells us all there is to be told about Rao saab (Dilip Prabhawalkar), about the power he wields, just as his grandson (a very impressive Rajesh Shringarpure) is instantly slotted as a commie-style rabble-rouser when he barges into a closed-door meeting Rao saab is having with Sarkar. I guess this approach works here because Varma is working with types more than characters (and the reason it failed in Aag was because Sholay was made memorable by characters and not types). It’s not for everyone, this style of filmmaking – and it does have its drawbacks, in that it leaves you admiring the films from a respectful distance rather than wholeheartedly falling in love with them – but it is good to see Varma back in form, and back to doing what he does best.
This review may contain spoilers.
AT THE BEGINNING OF AAMIR, the soundtrack bursts into Peggy Lee’s ridiculously cheery It’s a good day, as if taking a cue from the cheer felt by the eponymous protagonist (played by Rajeev Khandelwal, whose bewildered, blank-slate face is perfect for the part). Preparing to land in Mumbai after a trip abroad, he straightens his tie, winks at his reflection and smiles – and Mumbai appears to smile with him. The beaches are populated with morning walkers. Children get going with a game of cricket. Crowds of commuters hang outside the inevitable local trains. A senior citizen does that thing with his stomach you do in yoga, where the paunch is sucked in and let loose with alarming rapidity. It is, in short, a good day, a day like any other – until Aamir runs into a customs officer.
That’s when his day begins to turn bad. “Clear hai,” says the person checking his luggage, but the customs officer asks him to look again. He delights in keeping Aamir waiting – and, at first, he simply appears to be taking full advantage of his position, a have-not lording over a have, singling out Aamir for punishment on behalf all those people like him, passing through every day, laden with luxuries this officer can only dream about. This notion about Aamir paying for his life of privilege only gets strengthened later on, when he discovers that his family has been kidnapped, and their release depends on his following a trail through the seediest of neighbourhoods. When the kidnappers refuse his ready offer of ransom, it seems that they aren’t after mere money; they want to teach him a lesson, to rub his nose in the lives of the millions of others who live on the other side of the tracks.
To the accompaniment of a snatch of background score that takes off on While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Aamir treks through a Mumbai he never knew existed – a city with a National Restaurant and a Gulistan building and a toilet so foul-smelling, the satiny sheen of his necktie may well be the glow of radioactivity from another planet. (The soundtrack too settles down from Peggy Lee’s pop-jazz into the delightfully earthy, Indian-sounding Chakkar ghumiyo, which plays as Aamir attempts to decongest blocked traffic in the middle of a tiny intersection. He’s finally getting his hands dirty in the real India, even if it’s in the city.)
But gradually, it becomes clear that he’s being punished for something uglier that raised its head earlier, in a throwaway bit of conversation with the customs officer, when Aamir asked if his baggage would have undergone the same level of scrutiny if he were named Amar. (There’s a very funny, if somewhat contrived, follow-up to this observation, which I won’t spoil for you.) This is about his identity as a privileged Muslim. The kidnapper is apparently one of those hardliners who cannot stomach the idea of a liberal Muslim, of someone like Aamir who has a Hindu girlfriend (or “mashooqa,” as the villain chastely terms her). When Aamir first speaks to him and calls him “yaar,” he offers a gentle rebuke. He’s not a “yaar;” he needs respect, like the others in his community. A chastised Aamir quickly takes to calling him “bhai jaan.”
The beauty of Aamir – reportedly based on the Filipino thriller Cavite, though I saw plenty of similarities to Roman Polanski’s Frantic, what with missing family and a woman who offers to help for money and a crucial item of baggage, along with terrorists – is that some of these lessons are indeed much-needed eye-openers for Aamir. As part of the many things he’s required to do, he makes a call to Pakistan from a public phone booth, and he’s struck by how that simple act sets a cop on his tail. In some ways, he begins to realise what it means to be a Muslim in a country full of Hindus – even if this is hardly the way he would have liked to have had these epiphanies.
And as Aamir goes about trying to free his family, the film coils tighter and tighter into an impressive extrapolation of the words we heard in a voice-over at the beginning, about our destinies being written by others: “Kaun kehta hai aadmi apni kismat khud likhta hai?” About the only thing that didn’t work for me was the villain. The abstraction of his mission didn’t require a concrete presence, and I’d have preferred it had he remained just a voice over the phone. (Plus, first-time director Rajkumar Gupta has him do these embarrassingly oh-so-villainy things, like fondling a child’s chubby cheeks and winding up a monkey toy.) But the ending carries a wallop, more so because the song that plays over the closing credits – Ek lau is tarah kyon bujhi mere maula – acquires unimagined resonances from the events that just transpired. Even now, I get gooseflesh thinking about it.
Copyright ©2008 The New Sunday Express. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Aditya Pant
June 7, 2008
BR: I haven’t seen Sarkar Raj yet, so I won’t comment on that, but I’ve just returned after watching Aamir. Just like you, I can’t get the climax out of my mind.
Many people have raised an objection that the film never explains why Aamir is chosen for the ‘mission’ or that the mission could have easily been accomplished by anyone else. I felt that the ultimate objective of the ‘mission’ per se is superfluous to the film. The primary objective of the director was to show the schism that exists between the educated, secular-minded Muslims on one end and the poor, uneducate, easily influenced on the other. Or, as you put it – ” …some of these lessons are indeed much-needed eye-openers for Aamir” That he built this up in a thriller format, without resorting to much ‘preaching’ is where the writer/director scores.
About the ‘mashooqa’ scene – I felt the change in tone when the tormentor asks if she is a christian and when he finds out about her being a Hindu was quite well done.
All in all, a very satisfying film.
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ankur
June 8, 2008
I saw Sarkar Raj yesterday and liked it. In my opinion, RGV overdid the light/darkness bit. I was pleasantly surprised by the performances, and the pace, which at times I thought could have meandered off, but managed to be on track.
There is a scene in the movie in which Shankar is rescuing Somji. Shankar and his henchmen hit the electric pole outside the kidnappers’ hideot and then Shankar takes a shovel to hit his way through to Somji.
While watching the movie, I had a thought. Wouldn’t it have been appropriate if he would have taken a section of the electric pole itself. It would have connoted the movie’s caption, “power can’t be given, it needs to be taken”, literally in one;s own hand.
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Sagarika
June 8, 2008
brangan: I came here right after reading your Indy 4 and I must confess to still being stuck in mummies-come-undone mode (thank you, Duran Duran). Your “Crystal Skull is a wallow in pure nostalgia” followed by that Brody-stand-in quote “We seem to have reached the age where life stops giving us things and starts taking them away,” found, for me, a strange sort of closure here with “the ending carries a wallop…Ek lau is tarah kyon bujhi mere maula” …a reminder of sorts that this could very well be a bittersweet moment (portentous of a fiercely burning fan-flame finally frozen forever in that cryogenically sealed memory vault you mention)…that we may very well be witnessing the last Indy installment.
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brangan
June 8, 2008
Aditya Pant: Yeah, that climax made the film. But if I end up with a DVD of Cavite and find out it’s the same, man, I’m going to be pissed 🙂 And I did feel the filmmaking could have been better, though it was a first-timer, so I didn’t harp on it. I mean, how many “atmospheric” cutaways of meat being minced in narrow alleys do we need?
ankur: The contrast has by now become his style. And very funny, about the pole 🙂
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hrishi
June 8, 2008
Baradwaj…the Aamir review has too many details of the plot. I am not a professional critic of film reviews but its dangerously on the line between review and spoiler. and i had to stop reading very quickly. normally your reviews dont get into so many details…
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brangan
June 8, 2008
hrishi: you think so? I didn’t think there was anything especially spoilery… but i’ll read it again and see.
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Vijay
June 8, 2008
Baradwaj, reviews elsewhere are praising Amir a lot. Do you think that this is the best film so far this year in Hindi?
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brangan
June 8, 2008
Vijay: IMO, Mithya is far superior. It is so elegantly made, and it has the requisite twists and turns, plus philosophical layers, plus a truly great Ranvir Shorey performance. That’s my movie of the year-so-far. This one is more along the lines of a very solid first effort.
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Lakshmi
June 9, 2008
Baradwaj, must confess that your reviews are becoming tough to read…:(
Maybe I am logging into Facebook way too much these days!
Lakshmi
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Nirav
June 9, 2008
Personally, Aamir left me disappointed. Probably because I had heard so much about it before watching it. In any case, I was hoping that the director takes the plot somewhere … but instead of realizing its potential as a trrhiller, he made it into a shocking melancholic tale, which evoked empathy..
I need to get my hands on the original to see if the story lost its way due to “indianization” or not…
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Malika
June 9, 2008
Aamir is a COPY of Cavite. It is not BASED on it.
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Anil
June 9, 2008
For me, Aamir is one of the best efforts in Hindi cinema in a long time.
Yes, it is a first time director and his handling of (his own) script, barring a few places, is quite good and better than most of the seasoned bollywood directors who would not know what direction means if it came and bit them on their collective ass.
The photography and the background music/soundtrack were amazing. It is quite a while since I have seen music handled so well in a film. The cinematography throughout the film is top-notch – including the hand held camera sequences.
The end was good but once you understand the arc of the story, it was a forgone conclusion that the story had to end that way. So for me it was not the end, but the journey and the way the entire film was presented was very impressive. A film with a topical and lofty premise presented with such clarity and without hitting you on your head with it.
In the last few years, besides this film, only Dil Chahta Hai and Lage Raho Munnabhai have impressed me as much – as smart, intelligent cinema. The rest have been mostly garbage with very few honorable attempts – like Manorama SFU, Mithya etc.
I have no desire to see Sarkar Raj – I just cannot bring myself to bear the senior Bachchan. All he does is ham it up and I am not a machochist to put myself through that. Besides, RGV seems to be on auto-pilot on such movies. He made his masterpiece Satya. In this genra, all else he had made pales compared to that film.
All, IMHO 🙂
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Arijit
June 9, 2008
agree with you…”sarkar raaj” despite its flaws is a strong film…and the film maker has dared to pull such a twist at the end of the film…it struck me really hard….
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Anand
June 9, 2008
Well….need a break. I saw both the movies. Sarkar Raj and Aamir. Sarkar Raj is pure political movie with strong dialogue base and charasmatic perfomances from Big B, AbyBaby and AshB and others. Movie has its own pace with dark and light shades varying from frame to frame. It contained some what predictable responses and dialogues.But ultimately nicely made movie and full marks to Ramu for sequel.
But i prefer Aamir over Sarkar Raj for some reasons. Firstly, the mesaage it given that how an ordinary man is termed as terrorist without knowing the reason what made him do so. Secondly, no overplaying of dialogues or scenes. Thirdly, the intensity with which Rajeev has palyed his character….it was just eyes that were saying all the things. And no one can forget climax. It was just unpredictable. It gives you the social message, it shows you your responsibility, it shows how pathetic the life can be.. and at the end it may makie you believe that AADMI KI KISMAT KOI OR BADAL BHI SAKTA HE.
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Manish
June 9, 2008
Hi Baradwaj, I’ve been following your reviews for a long time. And never before have I so whole-heartedly disagreed with your take, as I do here for your review of Sarkar Raj.
The plot of that movie was childishly immature. As if we were watching one of those 90s gangwar movies. Everything is decided by killing someone! At least in the first movie there was a tussle of brains (despite the limitations of that installment). Here, the ultimate is when Rao sahab defeats Sarkar by sheer brains…and how does he reply…kill his nephew.
And kills Aishwarya’s father (imagine, for a moment, an Indian state level politician killing someone of the stature of a Laxmi Mittal!!…how unrealistic is that!). And for that matter, how unrealistic is Aishwarya’s presence in the movie. She’s there in all crucial and intimate moments of the family, right from the time of her introduction. As if Ramu is using her status as the Bachchan bahu to justify her presence.
And how stupid is Abhishek when he thinks that ‘everything is fine now’ just because he’s killed Namdev.
One biggest grouse I had with Sarkar was that of poor negative support cast. And here Varma has outdone himself. Namdev and that Gujrat politician…they’re so stereotypical…really…go watch those gangwar movies of 90s (the ones with Aditya Pancholi or Sunil Shetty in the lead)..and you’ll find such villians in every other movie.
The only good thing in this part was the acting of Amitabh. Abhishek also filled his presence, as you pointed out. But the story and plotline absolutely horrendous. The Raj Thakey equivalent character was so card-boardish. Even when there was a chance to put life into it (when Shankar call’s him)..it was made to work on routine.
Really bad movie. And so was the ending. The bahurani somehow gets established as the heir! How come. What really did she do to win the confidence of someone as shrewed as Sarkar!!!!
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anu
June 9, 2008
I agree with hrishi..i felt that your review of movie aamir is a bit of spoiler. Not one of your regular reviews!
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brangan
June 9, 2008
Lakshmi: What can I say?
Nirav: I too didn’t feel it to be all that great – but the ending made me reevaluate the film. It’s a good film. But I thought it’s meant to be a thriller plus a sorta message movie. So the reaction that you felt WAS what he was going for…
Malika: Oops.
Anil: “music handled so well in a film.” That much I’ll give you. I don’t think I’ve written another review with THREE references to the use of songs in a film, FOUR if you count the background score.
Arijit: Yeah, that end seems to have a lot of people talking…
Anand: “Secondly, no overplaying of dialogues or scenes.” Well, there was all that stuff with the villain and the monkey toy 🙂
Manish: Sorry to disappoint, man, but the film worked for me. “Everything is decided by killing someone!” But that’s what happens.
anu/hrishi: I’ll put up a note. Thanks. But just for my information (and future reference), which part would you consider a spoiler? Make sure you put a SPOILER ALERT in your comment 🙂
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Lakshmi
June 9, 2008
“What can I say?”
🙂 How disarming!
What I meant to say was – some of your descriptions feel very laborious and long-winded and my eyes just drift over the text… and it bugs me because I absolutely enjoy reading your reviews. I think this is a lesson for me to read slower…
Btw, I watched Mithya recently. Personally, I am not a fan of dark humor but I think it’s an excellent film. Sparse, well-shot, taut script and good performances.
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bart
June 10, 2008
Saw SarkarRaj.. Felt it was a couple of shades better than the first part. Yes, the movie somehow always tries to show things from Nagres’ viewpoint and they r always heros. So Abhishek supporting Maharashtra’s growth and Amitabh earlier chiding the CM for not caring abt 40000 families are part and parcel with it. Didn’t feel odd abt those. Wonderful performances from almost everyone except the mom character – who only has either to be frightened/ annoyed /sad /confused (a mix of above) throughout. A typical RGV super blowup of cardboards but works very well with a mystery theme to it.
BTW, “power to be taken and not given” was it meant for the power plant that was given to Gujarat to be taken by Maharashtra ?! 🙂
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Manish
June 10, 2008
Baradwaj: “But that’s what happens” – Nope..sorry. Not in Godfather. Not in real life either. Politics is not all about getting rid of the opponent asap! Not even ‘Company’ followed this rule. Come on.
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Mumbai Ramki
June 10, 2008
Baradwaj Boss 🙂
Sometimes i feel that the reader gets to visit the dictionary too often while reading ur review and that might switch loyalities to a Trash ( Taran Adarsh) review ..But its this perspective what i call ‘ killer review’ – even after than raja sen does in rediff..
“less interested in beginnings and middles and ends, in mapping out rounded narratives with rounded characters, than in presenting only those aspects of the story that catch his oddball fancy ”
I was wondering for a long time of why RGV doesnt flesh out his characters – He is more of a ‘plot’ director ..Focussing more on plots than the characterisation..SOmething like what Martin Socrese did in The Departed..
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Rajesh Kejriwal
June 10, 2008
MINDBLOWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is the only word that comes to mind!!!
No matter what media says – in print or on tv, no matter what kind of reviews are written – in dailies, on the net or even in mags, no matter what kind of ‘people’s responses’ are shown on tv….. the movie is a hard-hitting slap on the face of people making ‘tamasha’ in the name of movies, on people seeing ‘nautanki’ in the name of films, on ‘reviewers’ writing craps in the disguise of writing reviews!
Fow quite some time now, I am seeing a totally partisan & biased approach against the Bachchans by those attached to media/news/papers/mags…. They think that they can impose their menial views on the broad mind of the public in general…. NO, FOOLS! YOU CANNOT!!! You cannot take one bit from the Bachchans! They are a breed totally different!
These reviewers/analysts/reporters can have the power of their medium with them, they can mis-use this platform to impose their two-bit minds on the general public, but they will NOT succeed!
Each of the three Bachchans, along with a host of other actors, have given a real stellar performance in SARKAR RAJ!
Hats off to all of you, guys!
This movie is what I call a movie with “substance”! It is not something with some oft-repeated naach-gana & some cheap nautanki…..
I think its high time Indian audience started appreciating CLASS and started rejecting CRASS…..
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brangan
June 10, 2008
bart: That “mom character”, by the way, is Supriya Pathak. To see what has become of the girl you loved in bazaar and masoom and vijeta – ah, time!
Mumbai Ramki: Dictionary? That does it. After this, and Lakshmi’s diss, I think I’m going on strike 🙂 But thanks.
Rajesh Kejriwal: Wow. Have you tried putting up this comment on AB’s blog? I’m sure he’d enjoy it.
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Shuchi
June 11, 2008
Hi Baradwaj, I liked Aamir but little details kept me from totally loving it. For one, not just the villain but many of the side characters were stereotypes. The hooker, the poker-faced man at the hotel who listens to a joke then cackles after a looong pause…one just knows he’ll do that.
The continuous narration of Aamir’s activities that the villain gets from his sources – even that was overdone and unrealistic.
Many scenes were drawn out far longer than necessary. Aamir fingers the briefcase for ages before opening it, never answers the phone until it rings a minimum of five times, even the 3-min climax plays out in slow-motion – I felt like screaming, get on with it 🙂
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raj
June 11, 2008
“Dictionary? That does it. After this, and Lakshmi’s diss, I think I’m going on strike But thanks.
”
Baradwaj, amaidhi, amaidhi. Remember, you write for us, you write for us, you write for us. Chinna pullainga edho solranga adhellam serious-a eduthuka padadhu 🙂
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brangan
June 12, 2008
Shuchi: Yeah – I too felt it’s overpraised. The villain especially could have used some work. A good film – but nowhere near Mithya IMO.
raj: “padadhu”? hey, you’re talking like Asin in Dasavatharam.
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MumbaiRamki
June 12, 2008
Baradwaj,
Any build up to dasavatharam? TIckets booked ? ( i have booked in sathyam on tuesday 8 15 AM – quite an achivement that it needs a mention here :)) )
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J. Alfred Prufrock
June 12, 2008
BR
There was a phase when you were one of my go-to reviewers (the other being Pratim D. Gupta of The Telegraph). Sorry, dude, no more. You’re drowning us in the milk of human kindness.
“Sarkar Raj” sucks so bad it makes Linda Lovelace seem bulimic. Rationalising it with your “non-linear” storyline theory doesn’t work. It’s just a series of scenes that were strung together by a thread of a plot. The thread doesn’t hold, not even with a couple dozen knots in it.
Manish before me has brought up some pretty relevant points about the credibility of the characters and the situations. Your point about Shankar being a concept – you know what, most people would call it lack of characterisation. Aishwarya Rai, a “powerful presence”?! Puh-leeze, sir, by that yardstick Pooh-jah from KKKG would be right up there with Nargis in “Mother India”!
OK, forget consistency, credibility, continuity (I hope you saw the goofs there, especially inside Sarkar’s home and in the motorcycle entourage shots).
Why would anybody shoot the whole damn film with the same backlighting, no matter whether the setting is Sarkar’s home or Kanga’s office?
What’s with the endless shots of silent people? Even Big B’s eyes can only say so much!
And sweet Billy Graham on a plastic crutch, the dialogues! Such crashing platitudes delivered throughout with an air of such profundity. In other films, if RGV’s characters had nothing to say, they at least kept their (usually bloody) mouths shut. Like Desu in “D”. I think I could have endured this film marginally better if it had been silent.
Oh, and that “Govinda Govinda Govinda” chant in every other scene? Do you think it was a subconscious plea for VIraar ka Chokra to come and rescue this dud with a little shimmy in red shirt and yellow pants?
I’m tempted to come back to blogging just to warn people about this film!
The sad part is, I don’t know whether to accept your opinion of “Aamir”. Going by current form, you might find Neesha Kothari a powerhouse performer!
Be cruel, BR, be cruel.
Regards
J.A.P.
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brangan
June 13, 2008
MumbaiRamki: Seen there, done that, man.
J. Alfred Prufrock: Sorry that you’re disappointed, but that was bound to happen if you thought we’d always be in sync about films. Sometimes reviews are better read as one person’s thoughts on a film, rather than a recommendation. But I do hope you’ll continue reading 🙂
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raj
June 13, 2008
BR, you have gone too soft on JAP. That was rather a laughable outburst from our friend. Be cruel man, be cruel:-)
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Jabberwock
June 13, 2008
J.A.P.: I agree with most of your views about the film – thought it was terrible – but aren’t you an intelligent enough old gent not to get sucked into the concept of the “go-to reviewer”? Assuming that by go-to reviewer you mean someone whose assessment will match your own 90 per cent of the time.
Be your own man, dear sport! Read Baradwaj’s pieces for the quality of the writing and for the way he expresses his views about a film (he’s most certainly a “go-to reviewer” in that sense), but don’t use them as barometers for your own taste.
Incidentally, I had exactly the same thoughts about wanting Govinda to show up and deliver us all from the evils of the Factory, but I also think this film badly needed an extended friendly appearance by Salman Khan – you know, like the one in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, where he shows up towards the end and sets everything right before skipping away into the sunset.
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anu
June 14, 2008
OK there is no easier and shorter way for me to say this. So if you want to know really read on.
I jst reread the review to point out to you and realised that from para 1 to the last you have actually spelt out the screenplay or bits of it and even dialogues. Now maybe thats ur usual style that I maynot have noticed becuz I didn’t care so much abt knowing little abt the other movies b4 I watched them. But in this case given that all reviews are raving abt it and it is sort of a thriller maybe I didn’t want to knw anything beyond the basic premise.
Just to give you a context, if you read your review of mithya and aamir, the comparison bcuz they r 2 good, thriller of sorts movies that got rave reviews from all, you may understand what I mean.
Didn’t really mean to nitpick here but since it brought out…..
It could be that with Aamir you were literally reviewing (recalling) the movie where as with Mithya you were reviewing how the movie made you feel!
I warned you, there wasn’t an easier way for me to say what I mean.
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SheWhoMustNotBeNamed:)
June 14, 2008
@JAP, you totally cracked us up!!! :))Be cruel big b, be cruel!
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Amrita
June 15, 2008
So RGV’s bitching made me go see the movie and I have to say, I liked it. I thought he was trying a bit too hard, esp in the beginning, to make me see how this was a !Drama! – it was all just this side of comical. But the central characters and the payoff were intriguing enough to keep me engaged.
I’ve always felt there was an elegance to what we might term RGV’s middle period, spanning from Satya to Company/Bhoot. It was the period where he let his material do the lifting. But now he’s back to his early tricks and laying it on with a trowel. Thankfully, at least this time it’s a bit tempered. Gives me hope for the future.
The thing that strikes me most about this movie though, is its end which leaves open so many possibilities. Now that everybody has paid the piper, what lies in store? Could we possibly be looking at our first RGV heroine who gets to *do* something? It’d be fascinating if he made Sarkar 3 on those lines.
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brangan
June 15, 2008
anu: Thanks for the clarification. I’m not sure those were *spolers* as such, but maybe giving away too much atmosphere is just as much a crime? I don’t know.
Amrita: I love this line of yours: “I’ve always felt there was an elegance to what we might term RGV’s middle period, spanning from Satya to Company/Bhoot.” I’m not so much a fan of Rangeela and so on. And Sarkar 3, I thought, would be about Chikoo, no?
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raj
June 15, 2008
shewhomustnotbenamed – we know who you are 🙂
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Sagarika
June 15, 2008
Ah Amrita. You just made my day! I’ve been way too busy lately, looking thru my own kaleidoscope, that I haven’t bothered to sneak a peek down the Bollywood colonoscope. (Seems like — for anyone who has the time and/or desire to look — there are certainly some interesting concepts coalescing there.) That was such an “I’ve found my mojo” rant-review combo over at your blog — a delightful read. “RGV sounding off loud and clear about the cretins who write about his movies.” I haven’t stopped laughing! I’ll have to go back and savor some of the more interesting bits you brought up though, for instance “…writer who doesn’t read…well, first of all I don’t know how they can deny themselves that kind of pleasure…” (Hey, you don’t seem to have heard of the word “masochism”… or “family,” for that matter!)
And I’m willing to bet that brangan loved this line of yours (too): “So why on earth would you think that a critic who spends all his or her time studying cinema would be or should be immune to the desire to be a part of it?” He’s alluded to that several times over here…that to him “being a critic is simply a geekier extension of being a fan.”
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Amrita
June 16, 2008
Hey Sagarika – dude, if you ever start blogging about the movies, you should title it Bollywood Colonoscope. I’m jealous I didn’t think of it. 😀
I think RGV is basically like a tea kettle that’s been on the boil too long – the steam just wouldn’t stay in for another second!
“being a critic is simply a geekier extension of being a fan.” — kind of sums it up for me.
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SheWhoMustNotBeNamed
June 17, 2008
really? :)Pray tell!
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Sagarika
June 19, 2008
Amrita: Hey, that sounds like a swell Plan B for when I get booted from the blog I now consider home, thanks. And if you’re that jealous of the term I coined, I’d recommend prostrating at the altar of the Proctologist who opened my eyes to a million such marvels. 🙂
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Vishal
June 25, 2008
I think your comments about why RGV’s Aag didn’t work make a lot of sense to me. Nice review.
Regarding Aamir movie, (now, I might be reading too much into this BUT) I think the ending was, in a sense, positive. Everything that Aamir did earlier in the movie was what he was forced to do, but finally he did something that he *wanted* to do (however limited his options were in the given circumstances). I wrote about this on my blog, please read it if you get a chance and let me know what you think (not about my writing skill which, I know, is terrible but) about my interpretation of the ‘end of Aamir’.
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Radhika
August 29, 2008
“flinty overachiever”?? what has her character achieved in the movie? she flops around shifting her allegience from one powerful man to another – first daddy, then shankar, and then sarkar – what is her own “astitva”? what does she want out of life other than approval? i felt her character was quite weakly sketched and the end with her become la sarkar was beyond comprehension – what, she’s going to give up the 2 lakh crore project which gets profits of 20000 crore per annum (muffled giggles at the numbers) to be a sarkar-beti? though part of me was vastly amused at an Anita Rajan, (southie?) as the next maharashtrian power broker.
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Anwar Puttarjee
December 6, 2009
Malika is right. This film is not based on Cavite, but is completely ripping off that film. Unfortunately this otherwise well made film proves to be another embarrassment for Indian cinema. Shame on Anurag Kashyap and UTV for supporting this. And this Rajkumar Gupta should be put in jail for claiming he “wrote” Aamir.
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henrik
September 18, 2010
Funny, i thought your review of Sarkar Raj was unusually weak, with a lot of discussion on story-line details (esp., but not only, in the first 2 paragraphs), but less about how the art of film-making was handled here.
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Sev
August 17, 2013
I can’t stand Aishwarya and the now Bachcchan actors. Bacchan senior has long stopped inhabiting characters and has now become a caricature of his star persona, much like the three Khans (yes, Amir as well though to a lesser extent). And Aishwarya has always been too animated and shrill IMO.
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