The love triangle, so beloved of Old Bollywood, appears to have been replaced by the triangular bromance, and any film with three men at its centre reminds us, inevitably, of Dil Chahta Hai – so let’s get done with that comparison first. Yes, Abhishek Kapoor’s Kai Po Che, based on Chetan Bhagat’s The 3 Mistakes of My Life, has a few surface similarities with Farhan Akhtar’s zeitgeist-defining film. Here too we have a man gifted with a rare talent; a man who has to learn things the hard way; and a man in the middle, content to live life. But the films couldn’t be more different. Dil Chahta Hai was driven by its characters – the world around them was a privileged la-la land. But the characters in Kai Po Che live in a world that imposes its will on them, when all they want to do is (in the micro sense) open a sports store-cum-training establishment and (in the macro sense) be a part of the New India, the shining India whose air-conditioned malls can accommodate this dream.
You don’t have to have read Bhagat’s novel (or even have an opinion on it) to connect to the happenings on screen, for the template is right out of Greek tragedy. The story is that of a tragic hero, Ishaan (Sushant Singh Rajput), whose flaw is his naïvete, his implicit (and innocent) belief that his actions can make order from chaos. And this attempt to reconcile the Apollonian and the Dionysian results in tragedy, a turn of events that’s telegraphed at the very beginning when a shamefaced Omi (Amit Sadh) is released from prison. He’s barely able to look up at Govind (Raj Kumar Yadav), who’s come to pick him up, and the film enters flashback mode, taking us back to Ahmedabad in the early 2000s, about the time everything in our nation had begun to revolve around religion. It’s no different with these three young men, who are deeply religious – it’s just that their religion is cricket.
To a large extent, it’s the game that drives the film. It’s all-pervasive. When Govind picks Omi up from jail and they stop for coffee, we’re shown scenes from a match on television. And in the past, we see Ishaan lounging about his house in T-shirts bearing his name and number – he seems to want little more than to relive his glory days as a cricketer in school, much to the frustration of his father. His weapon of choice when, in rage, he breaks the headlights of a car? A cricket bat, of course. Subsequently, their careers are linked to cricket. These three friends set about opening an establishment named Sabarmati Sports (the ‘M’ is shaped like stumps and bails). And their fates, too, are shaped by cricket. The need to keep pursuing this dream takes them closer to Bittu Mama (Manav Kaul), a fundamentalist party worker with deep pockets. He finances one religion; he fans the flames of another.
In the world of this film, the religion of cricket trumps the other religions. It unites Hindu and Muslim. Ishaan, during one of his coaching sessions, notices a prodigy named Ali (Digvijay Deshmukh), who can apparently summon up sixes at will. Where other kids mock Ali as a lehenga-chaap and refuse to look beyond his community, Ishaan sees only his talent. That’s the only thing that matters, a religion practiced only by the truest of believers, those with the deepest faith and ability – the envisioner of this utopia, naturally, cannot be allowed to live. His life must be sacrificed for the greater good, and towards the end, when Ali calls Ishaan “bhaiyya” – for the first time – we are reminded of the countless moments in Hindi cinema of a certain era (and indeed, an India of a certain era) where “Hindu-Muslim bhai-bhai” was a given and didn’t have to be arrived at through a series of calamities.
The other religion, in the context of the lives of these friends, is merely hinted at, at first. We see it in the sacred thread around the torso of Omi, in the Ganesha statuette on the dashboard of Govind’s car, and in the “Om’ that Govind inscribes on a blackboard in their newly opened sports school. Ishaan, on the other hand cannot be bothered, with symbols of this religion. On that very blackboard, he draws a smiley-face. And then the world changes. Unlike movies like Rang De Basanti where society is changed through the active actions of protagonists, the change in Kai Po Che happens almost passively – for none among these friends is looking beyond their own lives. They don’t make things happen; things happen to them. The earthquake happens. The train-burning happens. Ayodhya happens. And for a while, this trio is trapped in the real world where, unfortunately, the religion of cricket is trumped by the other religions, something that Ishaan is woken up to rather rudely when he escorts Ali and some other Muslims to a refugee camp, only to be turned away. (To Ishaan, Ali is a cricketer. To the others, Ali is a Muslim.)
Even in their personal (non-political) lives, these characters aren’t so much the actors as the acted-upon. Witness how Vidya (Amrita Puri) has to initiate the romance with Govind, how Bittu Mama has to brainwash Omi against his friends, how the headmistress of a local school has to instill in Govind the idea that they can take their venture to schools. The trigger is always from someone else. Only Ishaan, the truest disciple of the religion of cricket (and hence the dreamer-visionary), begins to take matters into his own hands, as when he leads Ali to that refugee camp, or when, towards the end, he seeks to ensure Ali’s well-being (again, for the cause of cricket). The fact that Ishaan (sometimes) leads, while the others merely follow is beautifully illustrated in a sequence in a bus. The three friends are seated at first, but then Ishaan climbs out a window and goes to the top. Omi follows Ishaan (just as he will later follow Bittu Mama; it’s these blind followers who are the most dangerous). And Govind is last. The least adventurous of the trio, and the most cautious, he crawls along the top of the bus and when he finally reaches his friends, near the front of the bus, he keeps holding on to Ishaan.
The story may be simplistic, naïve even – and one could make a case that it is intentionally so, mirroring the naïvete of its protagonist – but Kapoor fleshes out his characters so richly that we are pulled uncomplainingly into their world. Like old-time Bollywood filmmakers, Kapoor values emotional logic over political or social “truth,” and like those older filmmakers he knows how to fuse music into moments and attain the purest realm of feeling. When, after India trounces Australia in a test match, Omi races out to embrace Ishaan, temporarily forgetting the other religion he’s switched to and awash in the euphoria brought on by the religion of cricket, Kapoor unleashes – for the second time – Amit Trivedi’s superb number, Maanjha. I had tears in my eyes. It’s a reminder that the melodramatic language of our mainstream cinema is still potent in the right hands, and that it’s not just the masala potboilers that hark back to an older cinematic era.
There’s humour too. The Pari hoon main sequence is gold. These Gujaratis are never reduced to caricatures. Govind may be the “vegetarian” of the group, averting his eyes when Ishaan and Omi thrust a girlie mag in front of his face, but it’s Govind who ends up having sex first. I’d have thought Ishaan would end up with this dubious honour, but thinking back, his “purity” makes sense. He has eyes only for cricket. When Ali’s father is reluctant to let his son play (he calls the game “ameeron ka shauq”), Ishaan sets about changing his mind. This religion is for everyone, rich or poor. Ishaan is too good for this world. He gives away their savings to needy Muslims, without thinking, whereas when Govind “gifts” a ball to a student, it’s a bit of a promotional strategy, keeping in mind long-term gains. And Omi’s status as a follower is reinforced when Govind and Ishaan are shown as teachers, the former of mathematics, the latter of cricket. Omi is such a sheep that he doesn’t do anything even when a sword is thrust in his hands. His passivity, his need to be led, is more terrifying than the most blood-soaked act of carnage.
Kapoor builds his film beautifully (and the performances are excellent), intercutting the general with the specific, and sometimes the political with the personal. The drama surrounding a local cricket match is intercut with the drama around electioneering, where a “red” party is up against a “green” party. (Where these religions wage war against one another through slogans and shouts, the cricket field recognises only talent, with “Ali the Saviour” placards.) Then, the drama surrounding an India-Australia test match (Day 1, Day2, Day 3…) is intercut with the drama around a brother-sister fight, their subsequent making up, and the estrangement and reunion of friends. Finally, Kapoor intercuts the drama of rioting with that of a pregnancy scare. This cross-hatched texture ensures that we’re always inside the movie, despite its somewhat sketchy depiction of one of the nation’s major upheavals. (People who have problems with Mani Ratnam’s use of political events as wallpaper for his humanistic dramas will probably level the same charges against Kapoor).
But despite what it’s about, Kai Po Che has little patience with overt message-mongering. There’s a bit of light-hearted lecturing about sports being as valuable to individual development as studies, and there’s certainly a “message” at the end – but when we respond so emotionally to something, the message doesn’t rankle. In another instance of the acted and the acted-upon, the Hindus here are the instigators, the perpetrators, the Muslims merely the ones meted out injustice. (We see Hindu carnage; we’re merely told about what happened in that train.) At first, this appears yet another steaming pile of liberal guilt, but see this through Ishaan’s eyes (his naïve, even childlike, eyes) and we’re left with the notion that it’s the duty of the majority to safeguard the minority, recognising that the actions of a few aren’t enough to discredit an entire community. It’s no surprise that the last shot (figuratively, and literally) comes from Ali, the cricketer, who, as a Muslim, was saved by Ishaan. There are no tears, no dedication of his success to his bhaiyya. He just walks out and does his duty – for his team, for his country. It may be a utopian daydream, but heck, who wants to wake up?
Copyright ©2013 Baradwaj Rangan. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
oneWithTheH
March 27, 2013
Everything about the movie seemed so authentic..when Ali is shown practicing his cricket I thought that this kid could actually play for India, his backfoot offside punch was THAT good..
This movie is the embodiment of full blown commercial cinema but without even for a moment telling you that it is one. This is how you do it!
And thanks for the late but rewarding review! I am reliving my memories of the movie from more than a month ago.
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usha
March 27, 2013
I had tears (again) in my eyes while reading your review! certainly my opinion of Chetan Bhagat’s (quarter read) novel almost made me not see it, but yes, the movie was beautifully crafted and touching. Now I must see it again after reading your review 🙂 Especially like the insight about blind followers and Ishaan’s naivete. Have seen people like both of them in real life! could relate to so many of the characters and situations.
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carla - filmi geek (@carla_filmigeek)
March 27, 2013
This is an interesting piece to me because it echoes a lot of what I said about the film in my own review, except better-written and, more importantly, written by someone who connected to the film much more than I did. I began my review with the thought of: Who needs another movie about young men? Of course, as I noted, it is not Kai Po Che’s fault that I am tired of this type of movie, and it doesn’t detract from Kai Po Che’s considerable craft, revealed in the myriad details you noted.
I found it harder to look past the cliché’s you mention and really get drawn into the story. Indeed I wonder if some of those cliché’s didn’t contribute to the discussion in various quarters of the Internet about whether the film is a political whitewash or whether it deliberately points fingers at Muslims for inciting the riots. I can only say that perhaps a more delicate touch with respect to the cartoonish evil of Omi’s uncle and “the party” might have avoided some of that hand-wringing.
Finally I acknowledge that these are quibbles when a movie has touched someone emotionally as Kai Po Che clearly has done you. I have had the experience of being moved by a story enough to overlook flaws in its execution even when I’m fully aware of them. Kai Po Che isn’t that story for me (first because I’m not male, and second because I’m not Indian, and perhaps for other reasons as well) but I am not so without empathy that I can’t see how it could very well be that story for someone who isn’t all that different from me. So I’m glad that it touched you to write so eloquently about it, so that I could come and read what you had to say.
Carla (Filmi Geek)
http://filmigeek.net
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usha
March 27, 2013
Carla: I am neither young nor male, but the film (and the review above) touched a chord in me perhaps because I am Indian, and it addressed several issues that I have puzzled about earlier..it led me to some understanding of why some things can happen..(here I am not talking about whether those things are right or wrong, that is another issue altogether). I think some characters and situations were very cleverly crafted..but i can see how some of it might appear cliched particularly if you are not from this social milieu..
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random()
March 27, 2013
We understand you’re a Mani Ratnam fan but for once you could do without a mention of him.
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nona
March 28, 2013
ok, maybe i will give it a spin after all…great review brangan. seems to have hit home..
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raj
March 28, 2013
“People who have problems with Mani Ratnam’s use of political events as wallpaper for his humanistic dramas will probably level the same charges against Kapoor).
”
The tone of this comment (at “people who have problems”) sounds like my tone when I mention “Rishi Kappoor”.)
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raj
March 28, 2013
When you edit comments like that, the essence is lost :). It wasnt that offensive, was it?
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brangan
March 28, 2013
raj: Nothing was edited.
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chhotesaab
March 28, 2013
I was waiting for you to review this or write about it, and I had almost given up thinking you didn’t get the time to write about it. But the wait was worth it. This seems one of your more emotional write ups, and I loved it.
When I watched the movie, I liked it a lot. I loved the emotional part, the cricketing part and the way it was set against the backdrop of real big events of the past decade. What did you think of the performances ? I thought they were excellent, especially Sushant Singh Rajput. The way the relationship of the 3 friends is depicted was a high point, IMO.
One big interest for me in a sports themed movie is how they show the actual sport. I felt Chak De India was one of the better films in this aspect as it showed the right amount of technical aspects of hockey with the entertainment part. And I felt the same here – the cricket shown here is believable and technically sound (unlike Hrithik Roshan in K3G).
Anyways, loved the movie but would now want to watch it again after reading your write up.
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chhotesaab
March 28, 2013
Actually, you did write that the performances were excellent – my bad.
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venkatesh
March 29, 2013
OTT OT : this i love : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClncY3AQxeg
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brangan
March 29, 2013
oneWithTheH: I think the thing I liked best about the film was that it just wanted to tell a story. While I’m all for pushing the envelope, these days we seem to have only two categories of filmmakers — the envelope-pushers or the potboiler-makers. And it was nice to see a film made in a mainstream way and infused with a quiet (as opposed to showy, look-ma-I-can-do-this) kind of artistry.
carla – filmi geek/ usha: I guess the thing about clichés is that when they work (for you) you no longer think of them as clichés, and when they don’t they become… well, clichés. The trick with any mainstream tradition is to make clichés look they aren’t clichés, and for me, this film managed that trick.
Also, I did not find Omi’s uncle to be an embodiment of “cartoonish evil.” He was quite realistically drawn, I thought, quiet at first and slowly growing into a sword-brandishing villain.
random: LOL! Seriously though, when promoting the book, one question I got from almost every venue was why Mani Ratnam shied away from exploring the political themes in his films. And I found it interesting that so many people expected this from his films, because I’ve always seen these films as primarily humanistic dramas, with the political context as backdrop/wallpaper. I thought the same with this film — as it was going after, as I said, “emotional logic over political or social ‘truth’ ”
chhotesaab: I saw it late, hence the delay. Apart from the technical correctness, I loved how the game itself became a character — a religion, as I saw it, inspiring its own kind of frenzies — in the film. That was beautifully done.
Here’s a link to my review of “Rock On,” which I liked, but not as much.
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Jerina
March 29, 2013
So happy to at last read your review of a movie that touched all the right sentiments after a long time. But the icing on the cake is reliving those moments through this review. Many parts of the post like, “The fact that Ishaan (sometimes) leads, while the others merely follow is beautifully illustrated in a sequence in a bus…” or “…Kapoor unleashes – for the second time – Amit Trivedi’s superb number, Maanjha. I had tears in my eyes. ” are the reasons why I like to read your views on a movie.
Loved the way Omi’s character has been fleshed out by Kapoor. He seems to represent the prosaic, practical and grounded Gujju in the movie.
Thanks for a befitting review of a befitting movie. 🙂
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VJ
March 29, 2013
The movie was a wonderful experience for me and the same can be said of this review. The craft and characters were as you have mentioned, rich and beautiful.
But although your idea of Omi as a blind follower was quite novel and possible, still I don’t think we can term him as a sheep who always “blind-follows”.
Since you have mentioned that Bus-scene , I’d like to point to one of the following scenes when the trio of friends is at some beach and if I remember correctly, it was Omi who was the first one to jump from the top to the sea beneath and Ishaan and Govind, followed Omi (ofcourse with the former almost dragging on the latter to jump).
And also consider had it not been for the later incidents, Omi was quite possibly the next leader of his party and perhaps of the province. So although he might have joined the party due to pressure and obligations towards his uncle, it seemed he was doing really well in it with time. And only a great follower once, can become a great leader, in most cases (in any field).
Ofcourse I’m not saying it as a major issue at all, but about a very minor yet some-significant aspect you have noted in the review. Cheers.
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ramitbajaj01
March 29, 2013
VJ – ‘only a great follower once, can become a great leader’
Beautifully said. It reminds me of a dialogue in The muppets movie- ‘if u believe in other people, sooner or later, u start believing yourself. Because this is what growing up is.’
the song ‘Man or muppet’ won best song oscar deservingly. Its youtube version is better.
Btw, i’ve not watched Kai po che yet. But After reading this review, i want to watch it now. Thanks BR.
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brangan
March 30, 2013
VJ: In that jumping scene, doesn’t Ishaan goad Omi on?
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ramitbajaj01
March 30, 2013
BR, regarding clichés, i guess even if they work for somebody, they are still clichés as they’re called clichés primarily because they work!
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chikkajji
March 30, 2013
“I did not find Omi’s uncle to be an embodiment of “cartoonish evil..”
Actually that is what I was thinking of, though I guess I did not have a strong enough conviction/insight to say it so clearly, when I said earlier ‘if you are not from this social milieu you might find it cliched’. For some reason, that character reminded me vaguely of a politician who came to ask us for votes..and you see those kind of characters often these days, even on the internet. And I particularly liked your insight about being ‘acted upon’. I think that is one of the reasons I connected so strongly to the film, we feel so ‘acted upon’ by political events these days, even if not directly physically, we feel ‘acted upon’ emotionally,mentally and socially.
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mksrooney
March 31, 2013
@Baradwaj Rangan.
You have said Ayodhya Happens, shouldnt it be Godhra Happens? or was it intentional metaphor?
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brangan
March 31, 2013
mksrooney: You’re right. I was thinking about the larger thing (kar sevaks and all) when I wrote “Ayodhya”, but I should have been more specific in this case and said “Godhra.”
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mksrooney
March 31, 2013
Cool, between i really enjoy your reviews, and with your thumbs up for this one i am looking forward to watching the movie. Between it will mean a lot to me to watch it, but it was a bit difficult, as i first understood the meaning of the term religion during 2002 as a 14 year old in gujarat.
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vijay
March 31, 2013
” one question I got from almost every venue was why Mani Ratnam shied away from exploring the political themes in his films. ,”
The more relevant question should have been why did he need real-life political/social happenings as backdrops constantly for his dramas, esp. at that phase of his career? Pulling one too many Casablancas.
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Octopus
April 1, 2013
Beautifully written Rangan Saab. I thought Kapoor wanted us to focus on the personal loss in every tragedy. How each one of us reacts differently to a tragedy that strikes us as an individual. The earthquake affected everyone, but it affected them more than the other onlookers primarily because their shop was destroyed. Omi reacted strongly since he lost his family, and reacted again when he lost his friend. I thought that was the primary focus of the plot.
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Pallavi Bhat (@palvib)
April 2, 2013
Its always nice to know when the one scene that you loved in the movie has struck the exact same chord in somebody else. The scene where Omi and Ishaan meet in euphoria of Indian team winning, is just brilliant, aided by the track, “Manjha”.
Your styling of the review this time is quite different. There is a systematic perusal of events and characters, that almost scientific (in some sense, sober) in tone/language. As opposed to usual barrage of words, that you use to enhance your expressions. I like both styles.
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venkatesh
August 17, 2013
Way late – i am not sure how i missed this – but this film is brilliant and “Pari hoon main” scene – thats what a love making scene should be. Brilliant film making this.
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