Showing posts with label Alyy Khan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alyy Khan. Show all posts

Friday, December 15, 2023

REVIEW 788: THE ARCHIES

 

Release date:

December 7, 2023

Director:

Zoya Akhtar

Cast:

Agastya Nanda, Khushi Kapoor, Suhana Khan, Vedang Raina, Mihir Ahuja, Aditi “Dot” Saigal, Yuvraj Menda, Suhaas Ahuja, Tara Sharma, Satyajit Sharma, Alyy Khan, Kamal Sidhu, Luke Kenny, Vinay Pathak  

Language:

Hindi and English

 


“I get a huge kick out of life. But I just don’t think about politics. What’s it got to do with my life?” Archibald/Archie Andrews asks his teacher Miss Grundy in reaction to his classmates’ concerns that the changes being wrought in their hill station, Riverdale, are driven by corporate interest, not public welfare. The year: 1964. But Archie echoes a standpoint adopted by so many people today too whose excuse for their silence on even fascism and genocide is, “I’m apolitical.”

 

The other students – all of them 17 – break into a song and dance to address Archie’s apathy, kicked off by Dilton Doiley singing: “In every fold of life, there’s politics.” It is with this lively passage that The Archies perks up, after a disappointingly bland 1 hour and 6 minutes. 

 

The Archies is the producer-writer-director Zoya Akhtar’s Hindi-English adaptation of the iconic US comic books. As you can imagine from the preceding paragraphs, Archie Comics – a frothy series about American high schoolers – provides just a sliver of a framework for Akhtar, Ayesha Devitre Dhillon and Reema Kagti’s script. The film’s updated politics, the decision to set it among Anglo Indians in north India and the non-stereotypical portrayal of the community are among The Archies’ exciting elements. Sadly, they are not effectively sewn together. The whimsicality Akhtar seems to have aimed at translates into low energy in the opening hour, and while the film picks up in the second half, it never fully recovers from the limpness of the first. 

 

Archie Comics began publication in the 1940s, revolving around an eponymous American teenager infatuated by the glamourous, wealthy and snobbish Veronica/Ronnie Lodge, and oblivious to the devotion of the pretty, golden-hearted and middle-class Betty Cooper. The vain and good-looking Reginald/Reggie Mantle was a flirt and Archie’s rival for Ronnie’s attentions. The other significant players included the gluttonous Jughead Jones, the muscular dimbulb Moose, the studious Dilton, and Ethel Muggs, a gawky girl smitten by Jughead who was repelled by her. 

 

In the early decades, “Archie and the gang” rarely rose above these basic characteristics. Their popularity was precisely because of this superficiality: the one-dimensional characters that did not strain the brain, a mild sense of humour, pretty outfits, pretty people, a clueless but non-malicious lead, and for Indian teens up to the 1980s, a glimpse into an alluring foreign land of tiny skirts and ice cream sundaes that were a rare sight here back then. Thankfully, Akhtar and her co-writers’ love of Archie Comics does not extend to the politics of the series that pitted two women against each other for a dull man’s affections, or the reductive gaze on the others. 

 

The manner in which the Ronnie-Archie-Betty triangle is turned on its head in The Archies is what intelligent adaptations are made of. (Spoilers: In the film, Archie dates multiple women without being honest with them. This quality is not pedestalised here unlike in conventional pop culture. Akhtar & Co’s Ethel calls Archie out for being a philanderer, and when Ronnie and Betty realise he is two-timing them, they tell him he’s not worth more than their friendship with each other.) It was also a smart move to situate the film among Anglo Indians, a community that traces its ancestry to the children of Indian and British parents in the colonial era. This allows The Archies to retain the names of the characters from the American comics – “Dilton Doiley” is a stretch, “Jughead Jones” required a backgrounder, but the rest could well be actual Anglo Indian names. Meanwhile, the north Indian location justifies the English-Hindi amalgam in the dialogues.

 

For the most part, however, the link between the film and the books is tenuous to the point of being superfluous. Reggie, for one, is nothing like the Reggie of the comics, barring a token allusion to an interest in Ronnie, and an introduction in which he makes out with a woman in a car. Akhtar’s Reggie is socially conscious, an aspiring journalist and a student activist. Sometimes the film introduces a connection to the books and promptly forgets it (the Archie-Ronnie-Reggie triangle, the Ethel-Jughead equation). Some characters are given short shrift (Mr Weatherbee, Pop Tate). Some are present but redundant (Moose). Akhtar and her team also seem not to have aimed for one of the hallmarks of Archie Comics, a sense of humour, unless you count Reggie’s Dad pooh-poohing his son’s prescient remark that comedy can be a career. Ha. Come visit us in 2023, Dad. 

 

Ultimately, there’s no satisfactory answer to why The Archies is an adaptation of Archie Comics rather than a brand new desi teen drama. This film is also no match for Akhtar’s track record as a director. It has neither the observational power of Luck By Chance, nor the ruminative depth and pizzazz of Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara and Dil Dhadakne Do, nor the grit, gumption and visceral energy of Gully Boy. It does, however, come across as a personal work in its own way. 

 

Zoya Akhtar is 51, which means she was a teenager when Archie Comics were all the rage among Indian teens. She turned 18 in a decade when the country transitioned to satellite television. MTV and the desi youth platform Channel V epitomised adolescent and young-adult coolth in the rapidly transforming India of the 1990s. If The Archies per se is her tribute to the comics, then the casting in part is a bow to the ’90s, with some of MTV and V’s earliest Indian VJs being roped in to play senior characters – Kamal Sidhu is Ronnie’s mother, Luke Kenny is Reggie’s Dad, Vinay Pathak is a villainous neta. When you think of it that way, it’s sweeta sort of love letter to a generation. 

 

The casting of the young leads seems just as personal to Akhtar. It comes across as a big fat middle finger to the online mobs hurling charges of nepotism at her industry. Unless you have been living under a rock, you know that Archie in The Archies is played by Agastya Nanda, grandson of Amitabh and Jaya Bachchan, and great grandson of Raj Kapoor; Ronnie is Shah Rukh Khan’s daughter Suhana Khan; in Betty’s role is Sridevi and Boney Kapoor’s daughter, Khushi Kapoor. 

 

The kids are neither great, nor awful. Khushi and Agastya are cute. She could be special. He lacks verve here, but comes alive while dancing. Suhana reveals a spark during Ronnie and Betty’s face-off over Mr Lodge. She could work on that. Would the trio have snagged such plum roles if it weren’t for their lineage? Unlikely. But it does not make sense to blame them entirely for the narrative’s limited vitality, which is a fault of the direction, although they do contribute to it. 

 

The rest of the cast are vastly better. The stand-out debutant is Vedang Raina playing Reggie. He can act, he can dance, he is handsome, but most important, he has screen presence and is born to be a star. Yuvraj Menda who plays Dilton and Dot i.e. Ethel are comfortable before the camera. 

 

The Archies is not a typical Bollywood musical. In terms of structure and sound, it is Bollywood’s nod to Hollywood/Broadway, although the background score (by Shankar Ehsaan Loy and Satya) and songs (by SEL, Ankur Tewari, The Islanders and Dot) are more distinctive and tuneful than what the average Hollywood/Broadway musical delivers. 

 

The most heart-warming aspect of The Archies is its depiction of Anglo Indians. Up to the 1990s, Hindi cinema inexorably stereotyped Christians, and confined the community to a clichéd notion of Goans and Anglo Indians. Christians almost disappeared from Hindi films thereon. The Archies’ characters are people, not cartoons. By not referencing their religion at all and focusing on their ethnic identity, Akhtar does something Hindi cinema has rarely done before: she points to diversity within a small religious minority. Anglo Indians, after all, are a minority within a minority. 

 

The diversity in this sub-group is also on display. While most women in The Archies wear dresses, as would have been the reality among 1960s Anglo Indians, note the women in saris and churidar kurtas especially in the opening montage and at the club. Farhan Akhtar’s dialogues are a smooth English-Hindi blend, with the kids mixing both, like city-bred youth across communities, while the adults are shown to have a spectrum of adeptness with Hindi – one parent struggles with “hoyenga” vs “hoga”, the others tease him about it. Sari/kurta-clad Anglo Indians who speak Hindi well are very much a reality, though you would not know that from Hindi cinema of a bygone era.  

 

The film even snubs its nose at the Right-wing that has always conflated Christians with British imperialists. The Archiescharacters are invested in India’s future and have contributed to our past. Reggie’s granddad, like many Christians, was a freedom fighter. The Archies is thus a lesson in showcasing patriotism truthfully, unlike the Akshay Kumar brand of propagandist cinema.

 

So, The Archies’ politics is worth rooting for. Normalised minority representation here extends to a gay boy who is not defined by his sexuality. Even the generic storyline is imbued with layers of meaning as it mimics real-world events in India today: big business buying politicians, corporates muzzling the press, and more. The storytelling is too flat for too long though to be redeemed.  

 

The kids in The Archies were born in 1947, and are 17 in the film. They embody an Independent India, but belong to a community that in today’s India is told they do not belong. The Archies has a lot to say about that and much else, but flubs its tone and tenor. When your source material is almost irrelevant to the point you wish to make, a floundering end product is perhaps inevitable. Akhtar could have heeded Archie’s father’s advice when the boy says he wishes to leave India for England to build a music career. “To make art,” says Dad, “you have to go in, not out.” 

 

Rating (out of 5 stars): 2.5   

 

Running time:

144 minutes 

 

Poster courtesy: IMDB 

Sunday, December 18, 2011

REVIEW 101: JO HUM CHAHEIN

Release date:
December 16, 2011
Director:
Pawan Gill
Cast:
Sunny Gill, Simran Mundi


I can see why Jo Hum Chahein’s director Pawan Gill thought his hero Sunny Gill might make it in Bollywood. After all, he’s got a pretty face, he’s tall and trim, and he possesses that quality that most people in our country crave: he’s gora.
But charisma goes beyond that and unfortunately Master Gill does not have it … at least not right now. He’s also got an inexplicable style of dialogue delivery which at times leads to an apparent mismatch between his lip movements and the words emerging from those lips. At first I thought there was an audio sync-out due to some technical issue in the hall where I watched this film, but when I found no audio-video variance while other characters were speaking, I had to conclude that the problem lay with the actor. To make matters worse for this youngster, his debut film is absolutely lacklustre, filled with heavy-handed trite dialogues and clichéd characters, and is boringly predictable.
The story is simple. Gill plays Rohan Bhatia, an MBA determined to make crores while his Daddy wants him to join the defence services. Saying no to being a sainik?!!! I guess that’s Hindi filmdom’s ultimate way of labelling a person a selfish, self-centred “type”. Rohan chooses the stockbroking profession not based on his passions but based on how much cash he’s likely to earn from it. On Day 1 he’s singled out by the star of his firm, Vikram Khurana (Alyy Khan), who takes him under his wing and introduces him to a huge potential client, millionairess Amrita Singhania (Achint Kaur). The lady is another “type” – rich bored single female, unabashed cougar, essentially lonely despite the bustling social life. She’s obviously determined to bed Rohan from the moment she sees him, but it’s not clear whether he is oblivious to her intentions or is playing along while pretending not to realise what’s on her mind. All I know is that Rohan sleeps with her twice but seems not to know how it happened. The look on his face when he wakes up both times is of such incredulity that I thought the film would later reveal that Amrita had drugged him into submission.
Anyway, on a parallel track, Rohan has fallen in love with aspiring actress Neha (former Miss India Universe Simran Mundi) and had a few rolls in the hay with her too. Now figure out for yourself how the rest of the film will pan out. It’s easy!
On the bright side, Mundi is tall, has a lithe figure and in one song shot among rocks and by a water body, wears some of the loveliest dresses given to a Hindi film actress in recent times. Achint Kaur has a fabulous body … which gym do you work out at, lady?!!! Plus ...
Okay, I can’t think of any other pluses! Mundi needs acting lessons, Alyy Khan always did. With songs like “Aaj bhi party, kal bhi party / Saari duniya hai ek party / Ta na na na na / Ta na na na na,” music director Sachin Gupta seems to be trying to re-create the same youthful mood that Sachin-Jigar ushered in with their songs for Faltu earlier this year. But Faltu – despite all its flaws – had an undeniable sense of humour and a significant point to make. Jo Hum Chahein is just one big cliché! If you don’t believe me, hear these lines that Neha utters to a weepy Rohan towards the end of the film, give or take a word here or there: “Hum dono ek doosre ke andhere aakaash ko … roshan kar sakte hai. Let’s be each other’s fireworks.” I did not make that up!!!
Rating (out of five): 1/4 (this quarter star for Simran’s wardrobe in that song, and the no-fuss manner in which Achint Kaur casually takes off her robe to reveal a toned body in a white bikini!)   
CBFC Rating:                       U/A
Language:                              Hindi

  

Friday, October 14, 2011

REVIEW 83: AZAAN

Release date:
October 14, 2011
Director:
Prashant Chadha
Cast:
Sachiin J. Joshi, Candice Boucher, Aarya Babbar, Dalip Tahil, Alyy Khan, Ravi Kissen, Vijayendra Ghatge, Sarita Choudhury


Azaan is the film I was really looking forward to this week. The trailers have been showing us some world-class action; and the theme is both international and relevant to our times.
But Azaan reminds me of a lesson I learnt years back – that the human body is an apt metaphor for films; even the most beautiful physique is nothing but a well-sculpted mass of flesh if the heart does not beat and the blood does not flow. And I’m afraid the heart just does not beat in this film.
This is the story of two little boys Azaan and Aman who choose different paths when they lose their loved ones to political violence. One grows up to become a terrorist, the other a secret agent trying to bust terror networks. India is the target of a vicious scheme of biological warfare being hatched by a foreign power, and Agent Azaan Khan seems to be the only one who can stop it.
The locations are real (the film’s official website tells me it was shot in eight countries – Germany, Morocco, France, India, Poland, Thailand, China, South Africa). And thankfully, for a change we have competent international actors playing foreigners here, unlike the embarrassingly bad extras we’re more used to seeing in Hindi films. In fact Azaan has most elements in its package in place: top-notch (and I suspect deliberately sparse) cinematography by Axel Fischer, production design by Priten R. Patil that transports us to the various countries Azaan visits not just with street shots but through every room and cave that you see him in, a grey-black colour scheme that I assume signifies the barrenness of Azaan’s emotional life, a sepia-toned flashback to Azaan’s memories of his childhood in a golden desert, a telling background score, at least two nice songs and some classy action.
Now if only as much time, money and energy had been spent on the screenplay and dialogues. And if only hero Sachiin J. Joshi, who plays Azaan, could act. The moment Joshi opens his mouth, you realise that his histrionics are restricted to that perfectly worked out torso. His expressionless face combined with ineffective dialogue writing ring this film’s death knell. Why, for instance, does he translate his Hindi lines into English when he first meets the beautiful Moroccan sand artist Afreen (Candice Boucher). “Yeh kahaani meri hai,” he says after a rather nicely done scene in which he watches her tell a tale of two brothers through the medium of her sandwork; he immediately follows that up with, “That story is mine,” and then adds, “Yeh kaise khatam hogi? How will it end?” No no, for the nth time, we Indians don’t talk like that!!!
This is particularly unfortunate because the film gets a couple of other things right on the dialogue front: many of the foreigners are shown speaking naturally in their own mother tongues, while subtitles in both English and Hindi appear on screen.
Of the rest of the cast, Alyy Khan as an Indian Intelligence official is suitably suave and intimidating, and Boucher is pretty but shares zero chemistry with Joshi. She has a lovely body, no doubt, but I wonder why the director chose to show her lying alone on a beach and gyrating about in the sand to signify that moment when she has sex with Azaan. Might have made more sense to show them getting some plain old-fashioned action between the sheets, don’t you think?
Perhaps that scene typifies what is wrong with Azaan – the production values are slick, everything and everyone looks pretty and/or neat and well-shot and well-made-up and stylised, it’s evident that big money has been invested in the packaging, but it lacks heart and soul and a spark.
In Steven Soderbergh’s recent film Contagion, when US scientists finally find a cure for a mysterious viral infection that is killing millions across the world, I found myself actually heaving a sigh of relief because the director managed to draw us so effectively into the painful and time-consuming battle that was being fought by the film’s various characters. But when India manages to find a cure for the virulent epidemic that strikes in Azaan, I felt nothing.
Rating (out of five): **
CBFC Rating:                       U/A without visual cuts (the Censor Board asked for the word “China” to be muted)
Running time:                        140 Minutes
Language:                              Hindi and various other languages

Photograph courtesy: http://www.aazaan.com/