REVIEW 156: OMG OH MY GOD!

Release date:	September 28, 2012
Director:	Umesh Shukla
Cast:   Language:	Paresh Rawal, Akshay Kumar, Mithun Chakraborty, Govind Namdeo, Mahesh Manjrekar Hindi

 

This is the sort of film I wish I did not have to critique. Its intent and impact are so amazing, that I wish I could pretend it has only pluses and that I didn’t notice any minuses.

Ah well, there’s a job to be done here, but first may I say I had a rollicking time watching OMG Oh My God! It’s insightful, brave, funny and emotional all rolled in one. Just as important, the Central Board of Film Certification’s decision to release it is also a victory for freedom of expression in our country. When Paresh Rawal’s Kanjibhai Mehta asks a religious priest in court, “You call yourself a man of god yet it took just a few provocative statements from me to inflame your passions?” (or words roughly to that effect), he is delivering a slap in the face of every religious fundamentalist in India who has ever threatened or inflicted violence on an artist or an ordinary citizen. The ban on Salman Rushdie’s Satanic Verses and threats to his life, the threats to M.F. Husain’s life and the violence against his property in reaction to his goddess paintings … in Kanjibhai’s question you could read allusions to these and other disgraceful episodes, but OMG makes no direct reference to any of them. It’s a simple story of a businessman whose shop is destroyed in an earthquake. When his insurance claim is rejected because earthquakes fall within the category of “act of god” as listed in his policy’s terms and conditions, a desperate Kanji decides to take god to court. Legal notices are promptly despatched to god’s agents on earth, namely, priests of all religions.

Last year’s Marathi film Deool was a stinging comment on the commercialisation of religion, but OMG goes several steps further by questioning the very existence of god and the need for religion at all. The significance of these films lies in the fact that such questions are rarely asked so pointedly on public platforms in India. Kanjibhai voices views that more social and political commentators should be airing. And he speaks so fearlessly – impertinently, some may say – that you have to admire the entire team of this film for daring to be associated with it, despite the increasing tendency in our country to take to the streets, threaten murder and destroy public property at the mere hint of religious “sentiments” being “hurt”.

OMG is based on the Hindi play Kishen vs Kanhaiya and the Australian film The Man Who Sued God, both of which have been credited (the rights to the film have been duly purchased; the play is written by Bhavesh Mandalia and directed by Umesh Shukla who share the writing credits for OMG; Shukla directed the play and now helms the film). It’s to the credit of the original material and the writers who have adapted it for the Hindi screen that it treads on tricky ground throughout yet manages to do so with finesse; that it is sensible and hilarious by turns without any let-up in its pace, leading to a completely unexpected climax; that while its focus remains the Hindu priesthood, it does not spare the Muslim leadership either and even reserves a couple of potshots for a Christian priest, striking this balance without ever seeming like it’s trying too hard, doing so instead with a flair and polish rarely seen in Bollywood.

I suppose nitpickers may ask why no Sikh priest was shown in the film’s court scenes. I didn’t think of that until I received this silly tweet from a typical troublemaker on Twitter who made this observation about our Censor Board with the sort of ignorance that is the hallmark of bigots, “I don’t think so, they still got balls to clear movie making fun of Mohammad :D”

Listen smart ass  (excuse me for not being polite), watch and understand before commenting; and if you can’t, here’s some spoon-feeding ... In one court scene, Kanjibhai exhorts Hindu priests to use the milk poured on deities to feed starving beggars instead; then tells a Muslim priest that it would be better if the chadars offered by devotees were garments used to clothe the poor; and to the Christian priest he says, wouldn’t those candles lit in church serve a greater purpose if they lit up homes without electricity? He quotes the Gita, Quran and Bible to bolster his case. Of his many blasphemous statements, one is directed at a Muslim neighbour off on a Haj. And the only man of the cloth who speaks up for him is a Hindu. Are you happy, dear troublemaker?

I do have some issues with this film, but they seem so minor when you look at the bigger picture that I’ll dispense with them quickly. First, the production values are not up to the mark, there are too many too-obvious sets in the film, the special effects in God’s introduction scene should have been better and the effort to give his face a halo-like glow are somewhat tacky. Second, the songs are disappointing even though Prabhu Deva and Sonakshi Sinha give us some neat dance moves in the amusingly titled Go go go Govinda. Third, there’s the occasional corny dialogue.

Now forget you read that paragraph, because there’s so much more to OMG than its drawbacks. Paresh Rawal and Mithun Chakraborty deliver brilliant performances, ably supported by excellent co-stars including Akshay Kumar whose arms (well worked out yet not over-muscled) would be enough to turn an atheist into a believer. There’s great on-screen warmth between Paresh and Akshay. Paresh is the focal point of the film while Akshay arrives rather late in the story which in itself makes this such an unconventional Bollywood film. At first I was irritated by Mithun’s effeminate demeanour before I fell off my seat laughing when I realised which real-life guru he’s aping. OMG is a wonderfully irreverent, courageous and life-affirming film that encourages us to be doubting Thomases with the humility to accept answers when we find them. Gorgeously gutsy!

Rating (out of five): **** (includes one full star for sheer courage)

CBFC Rating (India):

U (This disclaimer was carried before the film: “OMG Oh My God! is the journey of the protagonist who discovers his faith through the happenings and occurrences in his life and goes from being a non-believer to a believer. The film is meant for entertainment purposes only and we do not intend to hurt the sentiments of any individual, community, sect or religion. This film is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.”)

Running time:

132 minutes

REVIEW 155: FIRE IN BABYLON

Release date:	September 21, 2012
Director:	Stevan Riley
Talking Heads:   Genre: Language:	Clive Lloyd, Vivian Richards, Andy Roberts, Michael Holding, Colin Croft, Joel Garner and more Documentary English

 

 

You don’t have to be a cricket maniac to love this documentary. Look at me, founder of the #ihatecricket club on Twitter, irritated beyond words in recent years by the overdose of the game in our country and the national worship of cricketers to the exclusion of all other sportspersons ... yet so in love with this film! Back in the 1980s, long before we were flooded with too much of a good thing, I do remember enjoying matches when the family would gather round the TV and watch the likes of Clive Lloyd, Vivian Richards, Andy Roberts, Michael Holding, Joel Garner, Malcolm Marshall, Gordon Greenidge and Desmond Haynes demolish pretty much every opposition. I remember that when India won the 1983 World Cup, I actually felt sad for Lloyd because to me he seemed like such a gentle giant. I remember too having arguments with people who referred to the Windies as “ugly … black devils” (an early lesson for a child growing up in New Delhi that racism and colour prejudice are such an Indian trademark). But childhood memories are not the primary reason why this film worked so well for me. Beyond my own personal nostalgia, there’s the fact that director Stevan Riley’s excellent documentary recognises that sport is never just sport: that combined with the recreational and fitness benefits is the fact that the story of any sport is also political, social and cultural, perhaps never more so than with this particular cricket team.

 

Fire In Babylon takes us back to the era when the West Indies dominated world cricket. We watch as the team metamorphosed from fun, happy-go-lucky players to Lloyd’s near-unbeatable men, from easygoing “Calypso Cricketers” to life-threatening menaces on the field. As that happens, the film also takes us through the games people played on the West Indian cricket board, racial tensions surfacing every time the team played abroad, and the impact on the psyche of the people in a group of islands in the Atlantic when their team began to dominate a sport introduced to them by a colonising power. As a talking head in the documentary points out, when white Australian bowlers were aggressive on the field, it was considered part of the game, but when a quartet of black West Indians took the danger levels several notches higher, the international cricketing establishment cried foul. Through wonderfully relaxed interviews with West Indian cricketing legends of the time and significant commentators from the Caribbean, we are guided through 15 years when these men destroyed almost everything and everyone in their path on a cricket field.

 

It’s as much a film about cricket as it is about black pride, the festering wounds of slavery and the worldwide struggle against white oppression. Lloyd’s brilliant strategising, Kerry Packer’s World Series Cricket and Croft’s decision to play in South Africa despite its apartheid policies … you will find it all here, blended joyously with music from the islands, archival footage of matches, even some delightful songs about individual West Indian players.

 

If there is a grouse against Fire In Babylon, it is that it chooses to gloss over anything that might dilute the arguments it proposes. Yes, the global cricketing set-up did react differently to Lillee-Thomson and Roberts-Garner-Holding-Croft, but it’s not like the Australians never faced criticism. And while it’s amusing to see the film diplomatically suggest that the Indian team touring West Indies in 1976 were wimps, Babylon would have been more balanced if there was at least a passing discussion about the ethics of deliberately trying to cause injury in a non-contact sport and the moral issues involved in bouncers-designed-to-injure-batsmen. All criticism of the West Indian bowlers of the time can’t be conveniently dismissed as racist. That Fire In Babylon does not encourage a debate on the matter is a flaw.

The film also appears to ignore developments that could diminish the positivity of its story. “No other sporting team in any discipline anywhere in the world dominated their sport for 15 years,” Michael Holding (now a deliciously dignified elderly gentleman) points out in one of his interviews. And so we are shown all the team’s series victories but the failure to win the World Cup for a third time in a row – when those one-time wimps romped home in 1983 – is ignored. Would West Indian supremacy have looked any less admirable if we had been shown how they recovered from setbacks even as they ruled? I think not.   

However, I guess the other way of looking at it could be that Fire In Babylon is being told completely from a West Indian point of view, and this is perhaps how West Indies wants to look back. Either way, in the ultimate analysis, this is a fabulous film. It’s a war cry against slavery and an ode to the underdog. It’s a wistful ride for those who can’t help but get a lump in the throat at the sight of those now-graying cricketing greats looking back at the glory days. It’s goosebump-inducing to once again watch footage of Viv Richards sauntering on to a field, casually chewing gum as if he had not a care in the world, and then fast forward to him now, explaining the logic behind that gum. Yes people, there was a logic. This is a dead serious documentary but it’s as entertaining as any fiction feature could be with the adrenaline rush that a thriller might provide. Stevan Riley, you have made a beautiful film!

Rating (out of five): ****

CBFC Rating (India):	U
Running time:	85 minutes

 

REVIEW 154: HEROINE

Release date:	September 21, 2012
Director:	Madhur Bhandarkar
Cast:     Language:	Kareena Kapoor, Arjun Rampal, Randeep Hooda, Sanjay Suri, Lillette Dubey, Ranvir Shorey, Helen, Shahana Goswami, Divya Dutta, Mughda Godse Hindi

 

I have one very basic problem with Heroine: I don’t know what it’s trying to say. Is this meant to be a representative story of what life is for an actress in the Hindi film industry or is this the very unique story of Mahi Arora? If it’s meant to be a representative story, why pick a woman with bipolar disorder as your protagonist since that angle must surely make her a unique case study? Is Mahi naturally manipulative or is she a reluctant Machiavelli driven to machinations by a cruel film world? Is Mahi a user or is she being used? Who or what is Mahi Arora? I don’t know.

 

Heroine revolves around Kareena Kapoor’s Mahi, a beautiful Bollywood actress struggling to cope with an almost-divorced boyfriend who refuses to openly acknowledge their relationship, a career that’s going downhill, new actresses encroaching on her territory, alcohol and drug dependency and severe psychiatric problems. In the past, Madhur Bhandarkar has given us some neat films: Chandni Bar was gritty and real; Page 3 tended to look at high society in black-and-white terms but it was still entertaining and in many ways, insightful too; and both Corporate and Fashion were paced well and fun to watch. The strength of those films lay in their no-frills storytelling style. Heroine’s failing is the completely disjointed characterisation of its fulcrum – the heroine of the film – and the effort to throw too many ingredients into one cooking pot, as a result of which Mahi Arora ends up feeling like a mish-mash of many women merged together instead of a single person, and no particular aspect of her life is fully fleshed out.

 

For instance, was Mahi genuinely innocent or just downright stupid? We all know that the casting couch is a reality in film industries just as sexual harassment – in varying degrees – is a reality at most workplaces. Women who fight battles against male predators in the professional arena are walking on eggshells because most men in power tend to collude with each other to protect each other in such situations, aided by the fact that the top echelons of professional spaces are usually dominated by men. In such a scenario, I can well imagine Mahi being victimised by a hero whose overtures she resisted, but how come she was so naïve as to not realise that his bruised ego would not permit him to take the rejection lying down? Her plan to duck his passes seemed credible but I’d assume that an intelligent woman with her level of experience in the industry would have executed the plan more subtly, not allowing him to know that she was aware of his intentions, thus giving him a face-saver. Instead, that look she exchanges with the hero in question in a scene in his hotel room is one of open triumph, like a challenge thrown to him. How could she be so foolish? Ohhhh, the questions go on and on.

 

Despite the inconsistent characterisation Kareena is splendid in the scenes where she’s playing the vulnerable, broken woman, desperate for love and for longevity in her career. She also looks gorgeous in every frame and it’s particularly nice to see how lovely she appears even with minimal makeup. But in scenes where she’s got to pull off Mahi’s public persona, Kareena seems slightly mannered which is odd since those scenes require her to do nothing more than what Kareena Kapoor would do in real life – exit limousines, wave to crowds, pose for photographers and so on. Arjun Rampal, Randeep Hooda and Sanjay Suri acquit themselves well as the men in Mahi’s life. Fortunately for them, their characters are better written than the hapless Mahi.

 

Even the usually guaranteed Bhandarkar ingredient – good music – is missing in Heroine. The film offers us nothing in the league of Kitne ajeeb rishtey hai yahaan pe from Page 3, Mar jaava from Fashion or Abhi kuchh dino se from Dil Toh Baccha Hai Ji.  What we get instead are a bunch of lukewarm though well-filmed songs.

 

Heroine is actually fun in places where the focus is completely on politics in the film industry. The little trick Mahi pulls on a rival heroine (Mughda Godse) is worth a chuckle. And even the press conference at which Mahi lectures abrasive journalists is more realistic than you might imagine. A few years back, I remember a reporter colleague telling me about Kareena Kapoor walking out of a press meet when a journalist told her that she changes her boyfriends more often than her clothes … I kid you not! Bhandarkar knows this scenario well. In fact, the sequence of events that leads to that one final, horrible act of betrayal by Mahi – a misunderstanding, a phone call she did not take when she should have, words that were left unspoken – is believable. But too much is exaggerated elsewhere for convenience or to summon up a cliché ... a scandal unleashed the day before a film’s release automatically makes that film a hit, an endearing bond developing between two actresses ends up as a lesbian interlude, etc etc. At one point Mahi’s psychiatrist tells her that she needs to stop seeking her joys in other people and that she must rely more on herself. Ah, I thought, this sounds interesting … will this be a film about how a woman can be self-sufficient instead of forever depending on men for her identity and peace of mind? But no, like most female professionals in Hindi films these days, Mahi proceeds to crumble under the weight of her desperate need for her man.

 

No doubt the film industry lends itself to insecurities and actors lead a difficult life. I wish, however, that Mahi Arora and her life were not a potpourri of every heroine we’ve ever heard of. Was Mahi a simple girl forced into devious ways by this heartless industry or was she unscrupulous from the start? I still don’t know the answer. Heroine is too much of everything but not enough of anything.

 

Rating (out of five): **

CBFC Rating (India):	A
Running time:	148 minutes

 

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heroine_(2012_film)   

 

REVIEW 153: RAAZ 3 (3D)

Release date:	September 7, 2012
Director:	Vikram Bhatt
Cast:   Language:	Bipasha Basu, Emraan Hashmi, Esha Gupta, Manish Chaudhary, Mohan Kapur Hindi

 

There’s reasonable fun to be had watching Raaz 3 if you don’t think too much. Sure, there’s a lot about this film that bothers me – stereotypes, clichés, the works. But first I must confess that the early encounters with the spirit in the film were genuinely frightening, Bipasha Basu turns in a neat performance as a devotee of ‘black magic’, the 3D quality is world class* and director Vikram Bhatt does manage to maintain an eerie atmosphere throughout. Combine that with pretty sets and Bipasha’s stunning looks, and I suppose it can be safely stated that Raaz 3 delivers pretty much what its promos promise – nothing more, nothing less.

 

The storyline is thinner than Bips’ waistline so here it is in a sentence: leading film star Shanaya (Bipasha) ropes in an evil spirit to destroy her rival heroine Sanjana (Esha Gupta), with the assistance of her director boyfriend Aditya (Emraan Hashmi). Like all films about the netherworld, it’s a story that requires a suspension of disbelief from the audience. If you can set your rationalism aside for a couple of hours in a darkened theatre and/or if, like me, you grew up worrying that there was a ghost in every commode, then you may buy into the proceedings on screen. There’s a point in the film – in a cemetery – when Aditya says to Sanjana: “This is ridiculous, I think we should leave.” If I had not been spooked by then, I might have quoted that line to make a clever crack here. I won’t though, because the truth is that I was slightly on edge. The problem with Raaz 3, however, is that it fails to recognise that it has a good thing going, and so after a nicely scarey first half, it stretches itself far too much in the latter part of the second half, thus diluting the overall impact.

 

Esha – who barely moved a facial muscle in Jannat 2 – is wisely given the less demanding role of the two women in Raaz 3, and in that she acquits herself reasonably okay. Of course it defies believability that she could possibly eclipse an actress with the screen presence of Bipasha in filmdom, but never mind that. It comes as a relief that though blood flows and a spirit appears before us with his rotting, maggot-ridden flesh, Raaz 3 has no scenes that seem designed to induce vomit. Fortunately too, unlike most Bollywood films of the horror genre in recent years, the background score is not screechy.

 

I wish, however, that Vikram Bhatt had not resorted to so many clichés and stereotypes in his film. Since our film makers come from the society we live in, I guess it’s asking for too much to expect Bollywood to give us a career-minded, highly ambitious female character who is also level-headed, happy and not evil ... So I’ll fight that battle another day. But here’s one I won’t leave for the future … Shanaya is a bad girl, Sanjana is a good girl, Shanaya is shown smoking, Sanjana is not. Oh c’mon!! After the opening scene in a gorgeous red gown, evil Shanaya wears black almost throughout while sweet innocent Sanjana wears white and other light or bright colours. Oh c’mon, twice over!! In one encounter at a party that epitomises Shanaya’s destructive nature, Sanjana is completely unaware of Shanaya’s malevolent designs – perhaps precisely because of that, gentle Sanjana is in a soft, flowy white outfit while Shanaya is in a fitted, figure-hugging, rather more severe black gown. Don’t get me wrong … the women’s bodies and clothes in the film are b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l. I’m simply protesting against the triteness.

 

It’s also irritating how the script glosses over so much when just a little effort could have lent it some depth. Shanaya and Sanjana’s back stories, for instance, are given extremely superficial treatment. This laziness in the scripting and the so-so songs are what hold back Raaz 3 from being more than just a one-time watch. There’s also the fact that spook films have to be unrelenting right up to the end to be completely effective. In the second half, this one gave me too much time to recover from the earlier scares and ponder several questions: Why was that ghost so darned stupid that he didn’t realise how he was giving himself away? How come Aditya could see the shattered glass on the floor of that house but those guests couldn’t see the cockroaches that Sanjana saw? And most of all: Why the hell didn’t she just cut that dashed thread with scissors?!

 

Yes yes, I’m being a tease. Don’t ask for details or you’ll be complaining about spoilers. If you watch the film and come up with answers, let me know.

 

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

CBFC Rating (India):	A
Running time:	140 minutes

 

Footnote: (1) I had mentioned on Twitter that I watched Raaz 3 twice for this review. The second viewing was not because I “fell off to sleep the first time round”, as one of you cheekily surmised. No, I watched it another time because I was very late for the press preview and thought it only fair that I should see the film in its entirety before writing about it. Though I’ve called Raaz 3 a “one-time watch” in my review, I should point out that I did not mind it much the second time. What I mean though is that I would not have watched it again if duty had not demanded that I do so. (2) * In case you are one of those people who always wants to know if the 3D “makes a difference”, my answer is that I can no longer relate to that question. Why do we resist new technology? There was probably a time when audiences would ask “does the sound make a difference?” or “does colour make a difference?” My only objection is to films that are converted to 3D as an afterthought. Those are the ones that seem to me to look exactly the same in most scenes whether you have your glasses on or off. Otherwise, if the glasses are paper-thin (therefore convenient) and disposable (therefore hygienic) like the ones at Big Cinemas Odeon in Delhi where I first saw Raaz 3, I don’t understand why there should be an objection to seeing a film the way we see the world around us: with a third dimension.

 

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raaz_3D