Wednesday, August 15, 2018

REVIEW 627: SATYAMEVA JAYATE


Release date:
August 15, 2018
Director:
Milap Milan Zaveri
Cast:


Language:
John Abraham, Manoj Bajpayee, Manish Chaudhary, Aisha Sharma, Amruta Khanvilkar
Hindi


A violent vigilante out to clean the system by extra-legal means, a corruption-ridden police force, two good men with contrasting approaches to justice, a parent shamed in his prime, a son determined to restore his father’s reputation – we have seen variations of these elements in so many Hindi films in the 1970s and ’80s (some memorable, some terrible) that no amount of efficient direction is likely to have saved this film from its own triteness. As it happens, director Milap Milan Zaveri is also the writer of Satyameva Jayate, so he really has no excuse behind which to hide for this travesty he has subjected us to.

Satyameva Jayate begins with the back-to-back gruesome murders of two corrupt Mumbai policemen. A mysterious hooded figure (John Abraham) oversees both. The audacity with which these crimes are committed calls for the investigative skills of supercop Shivansh Singh (Manoj Bajpayee) who has a reputation for unflinching honesty in a deeply dishonest force.

Because the writing lacks imagination yet aspires to be both smart and profound, Shivansh makes an inexplicable leap of the imagination to arrive at a link – I will not tell you what – between the killings and the words “Satyameva Jayate” (truth alone triumphs) that are engraved on the national emblem. The handful of interesting surprises that the plotline does throw up are all confined to the first half. Thereafter, everything recedes into the background in the face of the film’s high-decibel soundtrack and dated, oh so dated, feel.

The repeated referencing of Lord Shiva and the juxtaposition of gory Moharram visuals against one of the killings lacks novelty. The only point at which the use of religious motifs in the film works somewhat is when the Destroyer of the Hindu Trinity finds a companion in the call of the muezzin, but here too the all-round loudness puts everything else in the shade.

At first when a character tells a cop, “Ab tujhe aisi maut maaroonga ki tu iss janam mein jalega lekin dard agle janam tak chalega (I will give you the kind of death the pain of which will last into your next lifetime)” it seemed like we were in for some fun 1970s/’80s-style dialoguebaazi, but it is one thing to revisit an old, enjoyable trend and quite another to Xerox it without an iota of innovation.

If by now you are expecting to hear that Manoj Bajpayee’s acting is the one bright spot in Satyameva Jayate then your optimism is misplaced. The usually stoic Bajpayee does not outshine the script as might be hoped in normal circumstances. Instead he – tragic but true – overacts. Earlier this year, Neeraj Pandey served up a strangely vacant thriller called Aiyaary, and Bajpayee had managed to find something within himself for his performance even in that film. In Satyameva Jayate though, he seems to have given up on life. While he is passable through most of the narrative, he hams to embarrassing effect in the climax.

Abraham, on the other hand, underacts no differently here than in most of his recent films, but he looks handsome as always and is repeatedly seen in bicep-baring ganjis, so I guess there is a redeeming factor after all. 

Amruta Khanvilkar, who was so impactful in a small but substantial role in Raazi earlier this year, is completely wasted in an insignificant satellite part in this film. Debutant Aisha Sharma, on the other hand, plays an important character who gets hardly any time on screen. She has a noticeable personality and very distinctive voice, so it would be nice to see what a better director might get out of her in a better film some day soon.

Milap Milan Zaveri is an established Bollywood writer whose credits include the screenplays he co-wrote for the box-office hits Grand Masti (2013), Housefull (2010) and Heyy Babyy (2007), and his directorial venture Mastizaade (2016) in which Sunny Leone’s bottoms and breasts had starring roles. From objectifier of women in these films, he switches to defender in Satyameva Jayate, providing confirmation of what feminists have said for decades: that men who speak of protecting women rather than supporting us should not be encouraged or trusted. Among the many clichés in this film are lines pedestalising women that are thrown at a potential rapist. Ho hum.


Satyameva, the truth alone, shall be told in this review. To say the film is shrill is an understatement. In fact, it is deafening both literally and in its tone. Abraham even gets a Sunny Deol moment when his screams rupture a tyre that has been placed around his torso to imprison his arms. To describe Satyameva Jayate merely as tired would be a kindness. In fact, the writing and execution are both exhausted, making it an exhausting viewing experience.

Rating (out of five stars): *

CBFC Rating (India):
Running time:
141 minutes 11 seconds 



REVIEW 626: GOLD


Release date:
August 15, 2018
Director:
Reema Kagti
Cast:


Language:
Akshay Kumar, Kunal Kapoor, Amit Sadh, Sunny Kaushal, Vineet Kumar Singh, Mouni Roy
Hindi


Chak De! India is arguably the gold standard for any contemporary Hindi film hoping to use sport as a showcase for this country’s complex multi-cultural landscape. Gender politics, a factious nation’s religious and regional tensions, and the inevitability of inter-personal rivalries in a team game all found a place in Shimit Amin’s fabulous 2007 film about the Indian women’s hockey team at the turn of the century finding its oxygen under a new coach, yet it appeared not to strain a nerve to sermonise. Chak De! is a hard act to follow.

Director Reema Kagti’s Gold sets itself on the same playing field – hockey, this time for men – but shifts its gaze to a period stretching from 1936 pre-Independence India to the first Olympics we played after the British left our shores. India, as we know from history texts, dominated world hockey for several decades back then. Cobbling a team together for the 1948 Olympics was a challenging task, however, for a fictional team manager called Tapan Das (Akshay Kumar), Partition having robbed us of many of our finest sporting talents. In this scenario, Tapanda battles his own alcoholism and a cynical hockey establishment, in addition to the parochial and class divisions within the team to get free India a gold, not so much for sporting glory and self-realisation but to take revenge on our former colonisers.

In the tradition of several Akshay Kumar films of the past 3-4 years, Kagti – who earlier made the neatly irreverent Honeymoon Travels Pvt Ltd and the wonderfully mellow Talaash – goes full throttle into loud, chest-thumping nationalist territory for Gold. If a point has to be made, it is spelt out not once but repeatedly. If a personal experience has to be a source of inspiration for a brainwave on the hockey field, the dialogue from the earlier moment must be replayed, on the assumption perhaps that viewers are not bright enough to get the hint from the proceedings on screen. If two characters are going to be at war in the dressing room, then their potential clash is announced through a long song during which the visuals stress and re-stress and further stress their class differences, just in case the audience did not quite get it from the initial indicators of one chap’s evident aristocratic background and the other’s evident lack of it. And when the national anthem plays in a scene that is truly and unexpectedly moving, the emotional resonance of the turn of events that preceded it is not deemed enough, the film’s patriotic fervour has to be underlined with a fluorescent marker in the form of one man – you can guess who – shouting Vande Mataram.

It is hard to understand why a filmmaker as gifted as Kagti could not see that there is melodrama and great beauty intrinsic to the story of a newly Independent and poor nation winning a hockey Olympic gold for the first time under its own flag. The failure to recognise this is Gold’s Achilles heel. Kagti does manage to weave some moments of quiet into the larger tapestry of overstatement she is working on – such as that scene in which the team first realises they will be ripped apart by Partition, or the dynamics in the bar fight which almost destroys Team India, or the warmth between the former teammates turned rivals from India and Pakistan at Olympics 1948, and most of all the two hockey matches that dominate the closing half hour. These are the passages in which we get to see what Gold could have been if it had not underestimated its audience or been overly anxious to cash in on the raucous, aggressive patriotism dominating the current national discourse.

Kagti has saved her best for Gold’s last 30 minutes, during which, despite all the film’s follies, I found myself cheering for the Indian team and welling up with emotion for them.

Of the cast, Sunny Kaushal and Amit Sadh play the only hockey players who are well fleshed out in the writing. The excellent Vineet Kumar Singh takes on the role of Imtiaz Ali Shah, captain of the undivided Indian team, giving his character far more heft than the screenplay affords. Unfortunately for the film, these men are sidelined in favour of Akshay Kumar’s Tapanda – of course – who is foregrounded throughout. Kumar gets the most screen time as manager-cum-talent-scout-cum-coach-cum-everything to the team, but delivers an awkward, uninspired performance in which his effort to be Bengali overshadows all else.

The oddest part of Gold is the fictionalisation of the hockey players who in reality won India golds at the 1936 and 1948 Olympics. Dhyan Chand and his colleagues are all part of sporting legend in India, yet for some reason, instead of using the names of these men who did us proud and bringing their characters to life, we get made-up names and characters based on their experiences instead in Gold. Yelling out Vande Mataram on screen can hardly compensate for this disservice to these giants from our past.

Gold has its occasional redeeming moments, but for the most part it just skims the surface of a landscape once examined with such depth by Chak De! India.

Rating (out of five stars): *3/4

CBFC Rating (India):
UA 
Running time:
2 hours 33 minutes 

This review has also been published on Firstpost: