Showing posts with label Neil Nitin Mukesh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neil Nitin Mukesh. Show all posts

Jan 10, 2016

Wazir Movie Review: Quite Watchable Despite a Very Predictable Plot

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Wazir gets its atmospherics spot on. The chessboard metaphor for real-life shenanigans of loss, longing and revenge is beaming with promise and purpose, the players in the game are up to the task, and the editor on the editing table respects your time for once. But alas, all of this wonderful premise is bogged down by a curiously unidimensional and predictable plot. More on that later. But to begin with, it’s a relief to see a Hindi film with visible signs of a plot after a considerably long time. No, I am not being sarcastic – just look up the list of major releases that you have had in the last couple of months. So, being an eternal optimist that I am, I straightaway declare Wazir to be a decently good omen to begin the New Year. *Touchwood*.
Wazir is the story of coming together of two wounded fathers under peculiar circumstances. Danish Ali (Farhan Akhtar) is a tough ATS officer, happily married to Ruhana (Aditi Rao Hydari) and father of a spunky, cute girl. Danish’s world turns upside down when he loses his daughter in a freak shootout; he eventually finds solace in the company of an unlikely friend – the much older, wheelchair-bound but a chess genius Pandit Omkar Nath Dhar (Amitabh Bachchan). Danish and Omkar’s lives get intertwined and then begins a series of moves, checks and maneuverings that further complicate the lives of all the players involved.
Director Bejoy Nambiar, the man behind smaller but significant films likes Shaitan and David, gets a much bigger canvas with Wazir. Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s overarching impression is evident both in the film’s production values and storyline. Chopra, who along with Abhijat Joshi is credited for story and screenplay of Wazir, teases you with all the metaphors and parables in the writing, but eventually falls short to build a solid, leak-proof thriller. But, at the same time, it is heartening to see a film that’s heavily backed by its writing, if not entirely carried through. If only Chopra and Joshi would have infused an element of unpredictability, or tried to be a little more convoluted rather than relying on the safe bet of straightforwardness, Wazir would have emerged as a riveting thriller.
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But despite its flaws, if Wazir is very watchable, it is majorly because of the powerhouse performances by its lead cast. Farhan Akhtar is brilliant as Danish Ali, the ATS cop dealing with a major loss in his life. Wazir is the culmination of the tremendous growth of Farhan Akhtar as an actor and you are amazed by the ease with which Akhtar pulls off difficult emotional scenes with a masterly ease. Amitabh Bachchan does what he does best – wowing you without much effort, as the wheelchair-bound chess genius. Big B also executes the difficult task of infusing light humor in an otherwise dead serious kind of proceedings.
Manav Kaul as the power-hungry Kashmiri politician is sufficiently impressive, so is Aditi Rao Hydari as Farhan Akhtar’s wife. Aditi portrays vulnerability of human emotions with finesse and you wish you could see much more of this truly talented actor. Neil Nitin Mukesh gets all the histrionics right in the title role of Wazir, looking both menacing and intriguing at the same time. John Abraham makes a fleeting appearance, but what really convinced him to play this rather insignificant part (even from a cameo point of view), would be interesting to know.
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Wazir’s dialogues are written with an honest simplicity and there is no visible attempt to load the audiences with metaphors that do not make sense, or worse, take time to grow or manifest themselves. The chess analogy, repeated references to pyada, wazir, hathi and ghoda are all part of the ongoing conversations and more of an outcome of Big B’s character’s obvious fixation with the game of chess. But, this welcome simplicity in writing goes overboard when you know ‘what’s going to happen’ all through the game, and guess what, the writers fail to outwit you at almost all crucial junctures in the film.
And that’s why you strongly wish that Wazir should have been a little tighter, a bit smarter than it thought it was. Then, all the good atmospherics, suave cinematography (Sanu Varghese), effective background score (Rohit Kulkarni), and taut editing (Chopra and Joshi themselves), would have ensured that you come out of the theater completely wowed and impressed.
If only. But, still go and watch Wazir. It is, despite all its flaws, an honest and sincere attempt to make a worthy little film. Big B and Farhan are reason enough to like and appreciate Wazir.
Rating – *** (Good)

Nov 12, 2015

Prem Ratan Dhan Payo Review: Old School Sanskaar Meets New Age Salman Khan

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Not everyone can like Sooraj Barjatya. It’s not easy. But, not everyone can really dispute the fact that he is good at what he does. Yes, he takes familial values to astronomical heights, he is too sanskaari and painfully old school in matters of romance, he is too engrossed into the lessons from Ramayana, and he is obsessed and surprisingly comfortable with lengthy soundtracks and lengthier run time. But, he is also extremely successful in retelling stories with same moral messages again and again, he is very aware of his strengths and has never really yet bored us to death with any of his films (given the template in question, death by boredom is a distinct possibility).
Maine Pyar Kiya, Hum Aapke Hain Koun and Hum Saath Saath Hain are films weaved by the same thread, but I bet you can distinguish between them even while you are asleep. And I also bet that you watch all these films on TV every now and then. On lazy Sundays. From interval point, 20 minutes before the credits roll or half an hour after the film has started – does not really matter. It’s lazy fun.
No, this article is not an ode to Sooraj Barjatya. But, I thought it was pertinent to quash the prejudice that surrounds him and his body of work. With Prem Ratan Dhan Payo, Barjatya achieves nothing spectacular but still manages to hold your attention for good 3 hours. That’s not a mean feat.
Of course, he is hugely aided by a certain Salman Khan who seems to be finally enjoying himself as an actor. Salman is affable as the quintessential Prem even after all these years. Barjatya does a smart job of squeezing out a dual act from him wherein Salman blends the histrionics of Prem with the goofiness of a simpleton with utmost ease. He is charming, restrained, emotive and effective. First Bajrangi Bhaijaan and now this. Salman, it seems, is suddenly a good actor.
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To begin with, the backdrop of Prem Ratan Dhan Payo is extremely opulent and lavish. From his typical happy Indian family, that eats, prays and sleeps together (err, did that sound wrong?), Barjatya moves to a big, fat royal family that houses a lonely prince Vijay Singh (Salman Khan) who shares uneasy relationship with his siblings. Enter princess Maithali (Sonam Kapoor) and a large-hearted simpleton from Ayodhya (yes, this is a new high in Rajshri’s obsession with Ramayana) Prem (again Salman Khan). Expectedly, there is a lot of song and dance, much of it meaningless, and the sinister plans of the palace insiders begin to fail and the broken bonds start to heal.
Prem Ratan Dhan Payo is different from a typical Rajshri film in some superficial ways. There are some well-shot action sequences, perhaps keeping in mind the current image of Salman, and a lazy attempt to infuse an ingredient of thrill and suspense. That Barjatya is no Abbas Mustan is clear but you got to credit the man for slightly tweaking his otherwise stubborn template. And yes, talking of how PRDP is not-so-typical, there is no official wedding in the film, there is no Samdhi-Samdhan bonding, women are not always in the kitchen (guess what, they are playing football!) and Mohnish Behl and Alok Nath are missing. Okay, I actually kind of missed Alok Nath.
In the acting department, Sonam Kapoor takes time to settle into the shoes of a Barjatya heroine. She looks a little odd while trying her hand at all the ‘shy stuff’ to begin with but eventually Rajshri parampara gets better of her. The actress does well in a couple of emotional scenes and her chemistry with Salman Khan is quite natural. Neil Nitin Mukesh as the half-brother and bete noir of Salman looks as odd as how litti chokha would look in a Gujarati Thali. Armaan Kohli as the cunning palace insider does a good job. So does Anupam Kher in the role of a loyal confidante of the royal family. Swara Bhaskar, as Salman’s step-sister, looks uncomfortable in unfamiliar territory but same can’t be said for Deepak Dobriyal, who does a neat job as Salman’s friend.
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Prem Ratan Dhan Payo is pulled down by a crazy runtime that bothers you at places if not bores you completely. The film also has a lot of unnecessary songs with weird lyrics – there is a song talking about Gujiya and Mathri. I would be keen to find out if the lyricist Irshad Kamil got a certain brief from Barjatya to write these tacky songs or was he himself undergoing some sort of poetic menopause. To Kamil’s and music director Himesh Reshammiya’s credit, there are a couple of hummable songs in an otherwise lackluster soundtrack. The title song, with its signature step being the latest fad for Dubsmash-ers, is very well shot, so has been the romantic track Jalte Diye. But, apart from these two songs, there’s nothing much in the soundtrack that features 10 songs!
In addition to the above mentioned loopholes, Prem Ratan Dhan Payo is also riddled by a lackluster screenplay that seems to have suffered at the cost of all the grandiose and bling. Somehow the ‘simplicity’ of Rajshri films seems to have been a bit compromised, what if there are some added toppings on offer.
Overall, Prem Ratan Dhan Payo is far from flawless and not close to being Sooraj Barjatya’s best work. Yet, the film stays afloat due to an in-form Salman Khan and some old school sanskaar. Watch it on a lazy and jobless Sunday afternoon. You might just like it.
Rating: *** (3 out of 5 – Good)