Spoilers ahead…
Abhishek Varman’s Kalank is at once an homage to and an update of the pre-“Bollywood” Hindi movie. The story is set in pre-Partition Pakistan, and touches on tropes common from the cinema of the time all the way to the tehzeeb-filled “Muslim socials” of the 1950s and 60s (outside of Arvind Kejriwal’s circle, you may not have heard this many utterances of “aap”) and even 1970s Angry Young Man dramas like Trishul. Drag the timeline some more, and you’ll find flashes of the Aishwarya Rai character from Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam in Roop (Alia Bhatt), whose arc moves similarly from feisty to subdued, after an ill-conceived marriage. (A Sanjay Leela Bhansali movie is still, theoretically if not technically, pre-“Bollywood”.) It’s not just about the plot points, though. It’s about the ethos. When Roop “hears” the songs of Bahaar Begum (an inexplicably wan Madhuri Dixit, appearing like a Madame Tussauds’ version of herself) from miles away, the music bridges the physical distance, like it did in Madhumati.
The familiar plot points are served up in interesting flavours. You could label the romance between Roop and Zafar (Varun Dhawan, not really stretching but not bad, either) as “rich girl/poor boy”, but it’s a married rich girl, a hate-filled poor boy. You could label the Zafar-Roop-Dev (Aditya Roy Kapur) angle as “brothers/best friends in love with the same girl”, but there’s no sacrifice involved — the resolution is more about perseverance and dumb luck. You have a woman forced to choose between husband and lover, but we see that this choice isn’t necessarily going to end in peace or happiness. Most interestingly, we get an unmarried mother who bears a child — but unlike Waheeda Rahman in Trishul, she abandons the child so she can pursue the man she loves. I even liked that Zafar is shown to sleep around. Had the gatekeepers of pre-“Bollywood” cinema been more attuned to social realities, maybe we would have seen a few more heroes (say, Dev Anand in his noir-ish films) bed-hopping their way to true love.
I won’t say that each of these scripting decisions pays off, but there’s a buttery smoothness to the pre-interval portions that makes Kalank quite watchable. The trailers made the film seem Bhansali-esque, but the first half is less a tempest than a gentle breeze. There’s a laughably executed bullfight sequence, and some scenes lack a sense of closure. For instance, when Roop submits an article to her husband, for his newspaper, and he rejects it, is that the end of it? Did she just accept the finality of his decision or did she even want to know why? But tone-wise, not one scene is off. The pacing is surefooted, building very slowly to a volcano of an interval block, which involves some superb cross-cutting between two sets of characters and a solid masala-reveal that promises to spice up the second half.
The unhurried pacing shapes the performances, too — even a very limited actor like Aditya Roy Kapur comes off with dignity (though he flounders when the melodrama amps up; the man just cannot cry). And Alia is especially fascinating to watch. There’s usually a trace of coltish cuteness in her screen presence, but here, she gets to parade a series of micro-calibrated looks and glances that make us see a woman who isn’t going to easily let the world see what’s going on inside her. She takes a dramatic line like “Sirf achchai kaafi nahin hoti poori zindagi bitane ke liye” and flattens it, so the emotion comes from the words but not from her reading. Look at her when Roop asks Zafar if he has no limits. Normally, Alia would be more playful. Here, the line hangs somewhere between curiosity and exasperation. It doesn’t play to the gallery. It sticks to character.
Kalank begins with a very unusual request from Satya (Sonakshi Sinha). She’s dying, and she wants Roop to take her place. At first, it all sounds daft, but her decision makes sense when we get to the scene where she admits she’s not educated. Her husband runs a newspaper, and you can see why she wants him to be with someone like Roop, who can read and write. Sonakshi Sinha essentially repeats her Lootera role. That film, too, was similarly paced, so there’s no revelation in the performance — but I was moved when Satya confides to her husband that she feels jealous of his new wife. The phrase she uses is gorgeous: “achchi jalan”. A negative emotion like envy is sweetened with a tinge of goodness. The relationship between Roop and her father-in-law Balraj (Sanjay Dutt), too, is charted with delicacy. His wariness around her comes from the fact that he knows what it’s like to be married to one person and be in love with someone else.
The scenes in the first half alternate between low-key and heavy, from the wry comedy of the first “meeting” between Roop and Dev (no, it’s not when they get married) to the spectacular “meeting” between Roop and Zafar, in his disreputable neighbourhood of Hira Mandi. This encounter is set against a most unusual backdrop for a Hindu-Muslim pair: the festival of Dussehra (though, later, we get an Eid celebration, too). A grandly theatrical Ram Leela is underway, and it amplifies the dissonance between Hira Mandi and the hushed newsrooms of Roop’s husband. It’s as though she’s entering a magical, mythical land, filled with joyous sounds and colours. Kalank may be the most ostentatiously mounted social movie (as opposed to historical epic) since Saawariya, and words cannot describe the otherworldly beauty conjured up by the costumes and Binod Pradhan’s cinematography and Amrita Mahal Nakai’s production design. If Bhansali tipped us off to the unreal setting of his romance with the phrase “khwabon ka shehar”, Kalank justifies its look with the very name of the location. The story is set in a fictitious place called Husnabad, which means “city of beauty”.
This beauty extends to the language, too – though an actor like Varun struggles to wrap his tapori twang around some of the honeyed words and phrases. How much better all this would have sounded in the mouths of the right actors, chosen for their comfort with the language rather than their box-office clout! At times, I was reminded of the Dilip Kumar incident, where he heard a very young Lata Mangeshkar sing an Urdu song and said her enunciation stank of “dal bhaat ki boo”. Still, there’s much to savour. I wondered if the film, given its period setting, was going to go all Mughal-e-Azam on us, but Hussain Dalal’s lines are an easy mix of conversational Urdu and Hindi, though filtered through the baroque stylings of pre-“Bollywood” Hindi cinema. When confronted with the prospect of hope, Satya says: “Ummeed sirf intezaar karwati hai. Sachai nahin badalti.” Another cracker: Tawaif ko Taj Mahal kahoon to uska taqdeer badal jayega?
Even the lyrics go all the way from Hindi-sounding (with lovely rhymes like maiyya ki lori / phagun ki hori) to the more Urdu-sounding: tumse juda hoke hum tabah ho gaye. The song stretches, though, are a major bummer. Pritam’s score contains beautiful raga phrasings (especially in Aira gaira) — but one would have hoped for a more chartbusting score. Bahaar Begum would say these numbers needed more namak. And the staging of these songs is too generic. (Compare the Eid number here to Yun shabnami in Saawariya.) But conceptually, there’s still something interesting going on. In the First class sequence, for instance, we see all the major characters converge, and we sense the friction between Zafar and Bahaar Begum. In the midst of all the showstopping, there’s still some storytelling.
Purely in the directorial sense, Kalank is a huge leap for Abhishek Varman, whose 2 States was completely underwhelming. The background action is marvellously staged (though some of it suffers due to the CGI). I loved the visual melodrama of the cut (driven by the screenplay, surely) from Roop’s burning books to the fire solemnising her marriage. It links one sacrifice to another — and fire becomes a major thematic element thereon. Zafar is a blacksmith — he works with fire. (You could say his character arc is forged in the fires of love.) The first meeting of Zafar and Roop occurs in front of Ravana heads being set on fire, and the film’s finale reminded me of the “burning of Atlanta” sequence from Gone with the Wind. The drama unfolds against the backdrop of an entire city going up in flames, with the protagonists trying to flee in a horse carriage.
Unfortunately, post-interval, the writing really blows it. (The screenplay is by Abhishek Varman, the story by Shibani Bathija.) We wait for the slow set-up to begin paying off, but the film seems to slow down even more — nothing builds. Characters that should have huge transformative arcs (Zafar) seem to undergo these transformations in milliseconds. And characters that were in the margins of the story (the fundamentalist Abdul, nicely played by Kunal Khemu) become huge in the scheme of things. (This might not have been such a problem if the Partition-era politics had been convincingly explored.) Major character conceits (like Bahaar Begum beginning to dance again, after decades) are treated too casually. We get very odd scenes like the one between Zafar and Dev, and potentially explosive stretches become damp squibs– I wanted a character to have a grand death scene, but all we get is a line about dying where one is born.
The biggest problem, though, is that the “kalank” is never felt. Whatever happens between Roop and Zafar doesn’t seem that deep or transgressive enough to warrant that title. You wish some of the fire in the film had caught on in the romance, too. I think they were trying to keep things really “classy”, but there’s a lesson they could have learnt from Bhansali. Melodramas can be classy only to an extent. When the emotions start spilling over, you have to begin baying at the moon — there are no half-measures. I still enjoyed the odd scene, like the triangular confrontation between Balraj, Zafar and Bahaar Begum. But the overall feeling is that of disappointment. Kalank is certainly not a lazy failure, but it ends up being an odd bird: watchable, but neither generic enough to overlook its flaws nor specific enough to embrace with all your heart.
Copyright ©2019 Baradwaj Rangan. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
MANK
April 22, 2019
After a long time, I thoroughly enjoyed a review of yours😀
Keep going And Belated Birthday wishes. In my defense,I only just found out. And in your honor I am going to sing a song. Sit tight.
Baar baar ye din aaye
Baar baar ye Dil gaaye
Tu jiye hazaaron saal
Yeh Meri hai aarzoo
Happy birthday to you ahahaha
Happy birthday to you
Ohoooooo
Happy birthday to dear Brangan
Happy birthday to you
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abishekspeare
April 22, 2019
The social media is full of trolls about kalank. While it’s not a great movie at all, the same wouldn’t have happened if an SLB had made the same movie coz “oooh he’s a great director”.
As a matter of fact a lot of dharma movies suffer from this negativity (with a ridiculous amount of hatred for ANYTHING karan Johar does). This kind of movie assassination makes it impossible for any artist to bounce back after one failure (excepting a rare case like Alia Bhatt).
Also do you think it was a wise decision to give the director of 2 states a 80 crore magnum opus? Didn’t thugs of hindostan teach bollywood a lesson? Of course the previous movies of these directors were hits but nobody really liked those movies and they were hits because of the way they were promoted or star power.
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Anant
April 22, 2019
A correction: When Dilip Kumar heard very young Lata sing first time, his comment was ‘Aawaaz achhi hai magar is me dal bhaat ki BOO aati hai.’ This greatly hurt Lata who took Urdu lessons to perfect her diction.
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Anu Warrier
April 22, 2019
Agree with abhishekspeare – the hatred that Johar gets is beyond ridiculous. I haven’t watched Kalank yet, so can’t comment on the film itself, but I was hoping it would be good. Perhaps Johar should have directed it himself. He has a better feel for emotion.
p.s. Happy Birthday, BR.
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brangan
April 22, 2019
Anant: That’s what I meant. I wanted to compare Varun’s off-delivery to Lata’s. I guess ‘redolent’ was the wrong word to use… Aargh. Am changing it to “stank” 🙂
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Sahir.
April 22, 2019
I agree with you about the songs – they’re not all stellar (although I love “Tabaah Ho Gaye” and “Ghar More Pardesiya”) – but I did think they were some of them interestingly used. The way the cast is laid out during “First Class”, as you pointed out, for instance. I also really liked the way “Tabaah Ho Gaye” came in – it was like a melodramatic climax, and it seemed to speak for all the characters at that point.
What I was very disappointed by was the Satya character – a woman filled with fascinating complications, but the film is almost singularly uninterested in her and she is quickly disposed of! The other disappointing bit of writing was the entire beginning – I didn’t fully buy why Roop agreed to join this family. Did her sisters get good husbands? Her family is unceremoniously forgotten about. Also, who is she? How does someone from a big household like Satya’s know her family?
But I did enjoy watching it. It was good fun. And I liked Madhuri, even though her character is basically a grown-up Chandramukhi.
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Vidya Murugan
April 22, 2019
I haven’t seen the movie, but what I would like to see (and will probably not see) is –
the tawaif subtlety nudge her young student towards the “wrong” path. Covertly fan the flames of “illegitimate love” hoping for petty revenge.
the young woman choosing “kalank” in the end
the first wife, instead of dying, scheming to get her husband married for a child, and not expecting her husband to fall in love with the other woman, and not knowing what to do when he does, ala Sridevi in Judai( her motivation was money)
Alas..won’t get to see any of this will I?
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shaviswa
April 23, 2019
Don’t think I have the strength in me to watch a Karan Johar movie. Even if he was only producing it. They are most often nauseating and are merely promotion vehicles for the nepotism driven Bollywood stars.
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krishna prasad
April 23, 2019
I think SLB is known for his grandiose. Call him the Shankar of Bollywood for that or vice versa. Of course it is not only that which makes him a good director, there is a lot of heart which goes into his movies unlike the wannabes with a lot of style and no substance. I think his kabhi alvida na kehna was a good one. Otherwise jus another director where greatness is thrust upon him rather than really earned
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krishna prasad
April 23, 2019
So I think kjo deserves the flak he gets. ( purely with respect to the movies he makes ).
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RAB
April 25, 2019
I think your review nailed it – Kalank is just ‘blah’. The problem with the movie is that its not immersive enough to make me suspend disbelief – so I found myself wondering – why is a lohar also a bull fighter? Why does Zafar stop to listen to Alia singing “ghar aya mora” when actually its the same voice as MD’s (who has been singing this song for long and loudly enough for Alia to hear it across the town)? Why is Alia roaming around dressed to the nines in an area of ill repute? The whole thing makes no sense and I think when logic comes in the way of experiencing cinema then lots of the Bolly films are in trouble!
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Dracarys
April 25, 2019
Baahubali sets + Indian TV melodrama = Kalank
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Chaitanya Chand C
April 27, 2019
Extremely well-written review. Thank you Baradwaj sir for viewing the movie so unbiasedly and putting in positives, for movies like Kalank and Zero. In your words, your reviews “do not play to the gallery’ and ‘stick to the character’. keeps the makers motivated to experiment again. A huge fan of yours! Always.
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rnjbond
April 29, 2019
A movie with a lot of potential that just doesn’t live up. But it’s a gorgeous movie and the music is incredible. Kalank (Title Track) is a contender for song of the year.
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monika584
April 30, 2019
@chaitanya chand…….loved your comment. Nothing to say more, just perfect. The second best thing here after Bhardwaj Sir’s review….
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Ramit
September 20, 2019
“The biggest problem, though, is that the “kalank” is never felt. Whatever happens between Roop and Zafar doesn’t seem that deep or transgressive enough to warrant that title.”
I guess kalank wasn’t just referring to Roop-Zafar romance. It was also referring to Zafar’s existence. He gets called as ‘harami’ a lot. It also refers to Balraj’s actions. He is still not forgiven by his sons. It also refers to what Begum did to Zafar. Not just birthing, but what she did afterwards. It also refers to Dev’s marriage(s). Kiara Advadni’s character calls him out on that. And in a way, it also refers to what Roop/Satya chose to do. In that sense, the theme ‘kalank’ was running throughout the movie.
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Jayanthi Sankaran
August 28, 2023
The first Kalank, is the illlicit relationship between Balraj Chaudhry, and Bahaar Begum.
The second Kalank, is that of Dev’s marriage to Roop, while still married to Satya. This act of bigamy in a Hindu setting is a shocker!
The third Kalank, is the relationship between the womanizing Zafar, and the married Roop.
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MANK
August 28, 2023
The second Kalank, is that of Dev’s marriage to Roop, while still married to Satya. This act of bigamy in a Hindu setting is a shocker!
Polygamy was not unheard of in Hindu households till the passing of the Hindu marriage act in 1955. For Eg: Ram Jethmalani ( born in 1923) married his first wife at the age of 18 in 1941, and in 1947 he married his second wife. Hindu Marriage Act prohibits bigamy but is silent on the marriages taken place before the act. The film takes place in 1947, so it isn’t shocking for the time.
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jayanthisankaran2
August 30, 2023
Hi Baradwaj – In your post you mention that Kalank is a huge leap for Abhishek Varman, whose 2 States was completely underwhelming.
Abhishek Varman was Assisant Director for Jodha Akbar which was grand too!
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