Picture courtesy: cinejosh.com
DOUBLE TROUBLE
A dramedy about groom-hunting that promises only to deceive. Plus, a shocker about ghost-hunting that promises only to deceive.
FEB 21, 2010 – TABU, MORE OFTEN THAN NOT, is an actress nobody knows what to do with. She isn’t – and she never was, praise the heavens – a stick-figure siren capable of seducing the multiplexes. (It’s only the rare MF Husain who will even begin to think about venturing into her Amazonian voluptuousness.) As for the other side of the actress, courtesy the reputation of an industrial-strength role-inhabiter, she appears to have peaked a little too early, in the pre-plex era. The films, today, that amble along the path less trodden – Ishqiya, say, or even Kurbaan – opt for younger actresses whose lesser skills are counterbalanced by greater star power. (Tabu may be a pyromaniacal performer, but she’s never quite set the box-office on fire.) So, at first, Kedarh Shinde’s Toh Baat Pakki seems little more than a pocket-money project for the actress, a means of prodding the public memory while making a tidy bit of cash till the next truly worthy offer trundles along.
But as this dramedy begins to roll, we’re in for a mild surprise. We’re thrust into the kind of India that isn’t quite shining on screen these days – it’s Palanpur, a bustling anyplace where people still bond over community names like Saxena, where dowry is still a millstone on the bride’s family, where one-upmanship with gossipy neighbours is still a rousing sport, where bashful youngsters still count on much-venerated elders to fix them up with matrimonial alliances (and where a perfectly ordinary looking engineer-to-be like Sharman Joshi, who plays Rahul, is considered a prize catch), where the Hindu hero’s best friend is the local Muslim paan-wala, and where the ideals of Mahatma Gandhi still mean something.
Better yet, there is – at least on paper – the sketch for a magnificent character in Rajeshwari, the über-controlling elder sister that Tabu portrays. She showers affection on Rahul, hoping to marry him off to her sibling Nisha (Yuvika Choudhary), and when the richer, handsomer Yuvraj (Vatsal Sheth) steps through the threshold. Rajeshwari, quietly, packs Rahul away and begins to dream about Yuvraj and Nisha spending the rest of their lives together. As such, she comes across as a callous vamp who values success and status over more humane qualities – but a little earlier, we’re shown that Rajeshwari is the pillar of the family. Her mother, a vestige of a more chauvinistic age, comments that Rajeshwari takes such good care of them that she’s more son than daughter – and Rajeshwari replies that she is a daughter, and that daughters take far better care of parents than sons.
The way Rajeshwari sees it, she’s more than the man of the family – she’s the woman of the family. And that means that the tough decisions, the ones no one likes to take, are hers. (She’s like the iron-fisted matriarch Dina Pathak played in Khubsoorat.) When her husband – the henpecked Surendar (Ayub Khan), who prefers Rahul to Yuvraj – demands what she will do if she located, tomorrow, a Saxena-surnamed bachelor worthier than Yuvraj, Rajeshwari replies that she’ll marry off Nisha to the newcomer. Not an eyelid is batted. It’s her responsibility to ensure happily-ever-after for her sister, and she will do whatever it takes – the feelings of Rahul are of minor consequence. He’s a good man, yes, but her sister deserves the best. The character of Rajeshwari embodies not only the traditional middle-class desperation of finding a good match but also the wily determination to achieve this end at any cost.
What a pity, then, that this character – like the others – is mired in an appalling hodgepodge of drollery and drama. The director can’t decide if he wants to coast along with weak laughs or dive into fascinatingly flawed humans. The result is dull beyond belief, with amateur-hour plot contrivances involving missing diamond rings and botched kidnap attempts and an akhada-based wrestler-uncle (the aptly surnamed Sharat Saxena). This isn’t even cinema – just TV-style drama with shot after shot of talking heads. The attempt may have been to emulate the light-hearted family entertainers popularised by the likes of Hrishikesh Mukherjee – who, incidentally, would never have staged a generic soniye–heeriye bhangra-rock celebration during a Kayasth engagement ceremony – but there was more to those films than just the grim grind of plot machinery. When Surendar hands his son money to buy kulfi, Rajeshwari snatches it away citing the boy’s health as reason, and we move to the next clinically calculated scene. Mukherjee, however, would have paused for a moment of empathy, giving us the father’s attempts to cheer the crushed child behind the mother’s back. That’s the difference between a pretender and a pro.
Picture courtesy: sulekha.com
MORE DISAPPOINTMENT ARRIVES VIA Sangeeth Sivan’s Click, with Shreyas Talpade and Sada inhabiting the barely believable parts of a photographer-with-a-past and his excessively loyal girlfriend. Taking a cue from the preternatural premise, the film, too, could have broken free from its earthbound confines. The plot – from the Thai horror hit Shutter, which also formed the basis for the Tamil remake Sivi – is a Shyamalanesque stunner, with an accumulative twist you’ll never see coming. And while there are plenty of shock-cut scenes (with jangly sound design) intended to keep the heart hammering, Click is also about the heart in an entirely different respect – about its capacity to cling endlessly to love. Unfortunately, what could have been a prime entry in the hitherto underserved elegiac-horror-as-gothic-romance subgenre is reduced to a mere jump-out-of-your-seats exercise. That said, though, such an exercise demands its own cluster of skills and has its own clutch of fans, whose screams are sure to overpower the complaints of the critic.
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Baradwaj Rangan 
Just Another Film Buff
February 20, 2010
I guess this sort of thing comes with your package. I’ve always wondered, how many films do you HAVE to see every week, no matter what you want?
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karrvakarela
February 21, 2010
“Mukherjee, however, would have paused for a moment of empathy, giving us the father’s attempts to cheer the crushed child behind the mother’s back. That’s the difference between a pretender and a pro.”
True, though I think that may also have something to do with experience. I haven’t seen the movie though so I’m not sure how well the rest of it holds up to Mukherjee’s work.
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brangan
February 21, 2010
JAFB: About the HAVE-to-see films, it’s only the Friday Hindi releases, unless there’s something else lined up.
karrvakarela: It doesn’t. It so doesn’t.
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Ramsu
February 21, 2010
Here’s a question with regard to your review of Click, with slightly more general implications. I see that you bemoan the film’s lack of ambition to be something else, namely an elegiac horror-as-gothic romance, but isn’t that unfair in some sense? You and I and the maker of Click could look at a premise and see three entire different lines of exploration.
Insofar as we understand what the maker wanted to do, wouldn’t it be better to comment on the film he did make and how well he achieved his objective, rather than simply wonder about the film he might not even have intended to make?
You do disclaim right at the end that a pure horror exercise has its own clutch of fans but the implication there seems to be that they might like that kind of movie, not whether they would like this one.
I understand that these are not reviews, but rather reactions of a personal nature. Quite frankly, I prefer it that way. But when you use the word “critic” in that last sentence, I daresay you open yourself up to this line of questioning 🙂
I don’t mean this as criticism. I love the stuff you write, and they have often given me a new way of seeing a movie or a particular scene, but I am curious about your approach sometimes.
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brangan
February 21, 2010
Ramsu: Yeah, I realise that the ideal is to evaluate a film on what it is and not what you want it to be. But as that sentence implies, that’s the ideal (in the sense of being perfect and unattainable). Much as I try, I’m unable to distance my own viewing experience — as a biased, flawed, and all-too-human being — from the experience I’m supposed to have as a “critic” (i.e. unbiased, ideal, and so on). Which is why these aren’t so much reviews (in the overall sense) as pathways into my processing of the films in question. These are very narrow (though hopefully not shallow) observations, and very specific observations.
Of course, now that you point it out, it is unfair that I “bemoan the film’s lack of ambition to be something else, namely an elegiac horror-as-gothic romance.” But as I said, that whole objective-critic stance is something I don’t subscribe to (or even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to write that way). Secondly, I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong to express a wish that a film could have been something else, so long as I still acknowledge if it does what it sets out to do (as I think I do in the last line).
As to my not stating if “whether they would like this one,” that kind of recommendation is not something I’m interested in at all. And I admit that this approach leaves readers confused. Like this reader (and a friend) told me that my MNIK review was refreshingly “academic” and “intellectual.” He meant it as a compliment but I was appalled. The last thing I want these writings to be is pedantic/professorial, but if that’s how my mind processes things, what choice do I have? I am but a slave to the subconscious 🙂
Here’s something I wrote about how I approach films.
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paadhi
February 21, 2010
Would click qualify for this next year? http://www.goldenkela.com/
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Ramsu
February 21, 2010
Fair enough. I felt the last line was a bit ambiguous, but that might just be me. Given that we’ve been discussing how one interprets a filmmaker’s intent, there’s no point in adding your intent to the discussion as well and complicating it further 🙂
I guess, irrespective of how objective one might want to be (and there’s no reason why one should want to be objective in the first place), it isn’t really possible. What we see on screen is informed by our own experiences prior to watching a movie. I doubt that film criticism can ever be devoid of personal bias.
But I do wonder about consistency and clarity sometimes. For instance, your review of Aaja Nachle appreciated the fact that the film set modest ambitions for itself and achieved them. I completely concurred with that view — I enjoyed that movie as I would an Andy Hary musical, and didn’t look for something justifying the hype associated with Madhuri’s comeback (a backward glance was more like it, as it turned out). But when you write about Click not having loftier ambitions, on the surface of it, it seems like you’re not giving Sangeeth Sivan the free pass that someone else gets.
It is not necessary that opinions have to be consistent. But do you feel, as a critic, that you need to explain what differentiates the two? Obviously not every pair of movies where one can see an issue, but as a reader, I’d love it if I understood your thought process a bit better.
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A
February 21, 2010
Wasn’t there a Between Reviews piece supposed to be out this week related to Vettaikaran and commercial Tamil cinema? I remember it was promised it was promised in the comments section of some other post.
And voice my support for Ramsu’s desire for a greater understanding of how your thought process works as a “critic” :). To what extent (if any) do you let your role as an appointed critic form/interfere with your personal reaction to a movie? As in, do you ever have to temper or alter some aspects of your original opinion just because you are a published critic who, fairly or unfairly, people do have some expectations of…
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Adithya
February 21, 2010
Talking about how Vidya Balan did great in Ishqiya but everyone thought there was something missing, I’ve been wondering what a Tabu would have done to that role.
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Raj Balakrishnan
February 22, 2010
“It’s only the rare MF Husain who will even begin to think about venturing into her Amazonian voluptuousness” – whoa man! Do you prefer voluptuos beauties to the skinny size-zero models?
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brangan
February 22, 2010
A: That’s next week. Big fan of Vijay, eh? 🙂
Ramsu/A: Much as I’d like to say I have a “process,” there isn’t one. I don’t believe that films should be judged by rules — say, “such and such story HAS to be made in such and such way,” or “this is the way a screenplay HAS to be written.” The only thing I aim for is to record MY experience of the film, which is why I’m uncomfortable calling myself a “critic” or these essays as “reviews.” What’s more important is that I reveal how I processed the film, and there’s no “process” to this because it’s essentially putting to paper a whole lot of thoughts summoned up by the subconscious.
Which is why a reaction to a film cannot be “explained.” Why do I give Aaja Nachle a “free pass” as you term it? I don’t know. Maybe Madhuri made that movie watchable. Maybe it’s because I don’t care for horror. Consistency is not something I aim for. I’d rather be known as a critic who’s honest about explaining his reactions (however peculiar) so that the reader can get a “view through my eyes.”
As for people’s expectations, I guess by now, at least the regular readers know that this isn’t a review in the accepted sense of evaluating the objective worth of a movie.
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Tambi Dude
February 22, 2010
“Do you prefer voluptuos beauties to the skinny size-zero models?”
Raj -> You related to Hema Malini ?
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Raj Balakrishnan
February 22, 2010
Tambi Dude, no. Why? Anyway, I don’t understand how size-zero can be considered as attractive. These size-zero girls look like sticks, except deepika padukone. Though I don’t think deepika is size-zero. Not that I like Namitha aunty!
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Ravi
February 22, 2010
And u also owe us a Vinnaithanda Varuvaaya audio review sirji 🙂
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triam
February 22, 2010
the guy in click looks like johnny levers brother, does anyone else see it?
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Rakesh
February 22, 2010
Apologizing for the digression.. but apparently Aayirathil Oruvan is a rip-off from …
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mountain_of_the_Cannibal_God
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Ramesh
February 23, 2010
seen it long ago in that theater next to casino.
It’s an interesting excersice in contrasts watching the two films.
I recommend.
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Tambi Dude
February 23, 2010
Raj,
check this for HM’s view on size zero.
http://entertainment.oneindia.in/bollywood/gupshup/2010/hema-size-zero-180210.html
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brangan
February 24, 2010
Got this through email…
Message: My name is Leo and I am an intern for MTV Iggy. Recently we had the chance to interview Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol in a Taxi while driving around New York City. I thought this exclusive content may be something that your readers would like to hear about. Here is the link to part of the interview:
http://www.mtviggy.com/video/Special-Shah-Rukh-Khan-Kajol-Backseat-Interview-Segment-1A
If you do post this to your page please use only the first video and our embed link. Hope this is something that interests you.
Thank You,
Leo
MTV Iggy
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Ramesh
February 24, 2010
yet yanether 60 crore weekend for the turkey MNIK huh?
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Karthik
February 25, 2010
hey rangan…..Are you going to be posting anything related to Vinnaithaandi – is a review or interview with Gautham Menon in the cards?
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Allan
February 27, 2010
Hi Rangan, I’ve been reading your reviews for the last couple of years. I love some of the phrases that you come up with. “Tabu may be a pyromaniacal performer, but she’s never quite set the box-office on fire.”
Very true, if one looks back at Tabu’s film career, it’s difficult to find many blockbusters. Probably Hum Saath Saath Hain would qualify as a super hit, but apart from that I can’t recall any other hits involving Tabu. OTOH, Tabu has delivered “powerhouse” performances in movies like Chandni Bar and Astitva, but these didn’t exactly “set the box-office on fire”, as you put it. One of her recent movies “Cheeni Kum” with Big B could probably be termed a semi-hit.
Now contrast that with her aunt Shabana Azmi who tasted box-office success as well as critical acclaim in the 80’s in movies like Arth, Masoom and several other movies.
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