REVIEW 657: 2.0

Release date:	November 29, 2018
Director:	Shankar
Cast: Language:	Rajinikanth, Akshay Kumar, Amy Jackson, Adil Hussain, Kalabhavan Shajohn, Sudhanshu Pandey, Kaizad Kotwal Tamil

Note: This is a review of the Hindi dubbed version of the Tamil film 2.0

There was a time when the cheep-cheep of sparrows and other birds would wake us up every morning even in the urban concrete jungles of India. Over time, as humans have persisted in playing havoc with the environment, those soothing sounds have gradually died out of our lives. This travesty of natural justice is, justifiably, a cause of frustration and rage among environmentalists and even laypersons with basic common sense and self-preservation instincts. Now imagine a film writer who understands the logic behind their anger, yet takes the bizarre decision to turn one such green activist into a murderous supervillain determined to destroy humankind for its callous carelessness.

Writer-director Shankar does precisely that in his new film 2.0, sequel to the 2010 blockbuster Enthiran (Robot) which starred Kollywood giant Rajinikanth as the well-meaning and brilliant Dr Vasigaran who built the robot Chitti (Rajini again) for the benefit of humankind. Aishwarya Rai Bachchan played his girlfriend Sana, and Danny Denzongpa was cast as Dr Bohra, who saw technology merely as a means to fulfill his dreams of great wealth. Despite the abundance of Tamil commercial cinema clichés, Enthiran had a fun comicbook quality, a substantial story and absolute clarity about its politics: it was a film on the transmutability of good and evil, and the risks posed by technology in the hands of immoral individuals.

2.0 is mixed up to the point of being downright stupid. As an unexplained force in the film snatches cellphones away from millions of residents of Chennai, the government turns to the scientist community for help. Allow me to revive Chitti, says Dr Vasigaran. But the Home Minister reminds him of the court ruling to dismantle the robot after it had caused death and untold destruction once Dr Bohra tampered with it for his own selfish ends.

When people start dying at the hands of a mysterious being though, there is no choice but to get Chitti back. So far, what we have is a reminder that it is not technology we must fear but humans who misuse it. Point taken.

The ridiculousness of 2.0’s politics surfaces only in the second half. A line uttered early on by Dr Vasigaran, “When people cannot understand something they either dismiss it as a terrorist attack or the work of God,” has potential but goes nowhere. Instead, the film becomes not about machines going out of control (which was a focal theme of Enthiran) but about the need to keep righteous human anger in check.

Bollywood star Akshay Kumar – making his Kollywood debut here – plays the respected ornithologist, Dr Pakshirajan, who gets tired of trying to convince the government, corporates and ordinary citizens to save our birds by cutting down on cellphone use. (Spoiler Alert) Following a series of events, he metamorphoses into a gorgeously ugly, giant supervillain whose aura combines with the aura of scores of dead birds and takes on a physical form constructed by using stolen cellphones as his building blocks. (Spoiler alert ends)

By this stage, Shankar comes across as being increasingly confused about what he wants to say through this film. Sadly, his confusion at the scripting stage plays into the hands of political establishments that, in the real world, are indeed demonising activists, including environmentalists. This is inexcusable.

Though he struggles with his storyline, Shankar does show imagination in the conceptualisation of 2.0’s visual effects and action sequences. Clearly, no expense has been spared in creating them. That said, the glitz and grandeur become boring after a while in the pre-interval portion as the story takes forever to take off and the SFX are beset by repetitiveness, as though a teenaged boy is trying to impress his school buddies with his brilliance. Cellphones being snatched out of the hands of crowds, a magnificent river of glittering cellphones flooding the ground – the sight is awe-inspiring the first time, even the second time, but when the same trick is used again and again, and then again... Oh c’mon, why didn’t someone snatch the toy out of the boy’s hands?

The special effects and stunts pick up only in the final confrontation between Chitti and Dr Pakshirajan, but it is too late by then. Besides, there is no single person in the storyline in whom one can be emotionally invested. Dr Vasigaran operates in the background throughout, Chitti takes centre stage but has more swagger than soul, and it is impossible to dislike Dr Pakshirajan because his cause is actually one worth defending.

Besides, Rajinikanth’s performance is a mixed bag. Even the spotlight on Chitti in 2.0 is driven more by SFX than acting, and the manner in which the star is tapped is decidedly unsatisfying. 2.0 gives him neither the unrelenting bombast of the standard big-bucks Rajini-starrer, nor the understatement he is still capable of as we saw so recently in Pa. Ranjith’s well-conceived, thought-provoking Kaala.

There are only two worthwhile, albeit small, roles among the supporting cast. Adil Hussain lends some dignity to the Minister he plays, and Kalabhavan Shajohn provides brief comic respite from the otherwise slow-moving proceedings as the corrupt, cold-hearted Minister Vairamoorthy.

2.0 is a prime example of the dispensability of women in Indian commercial film sequels. Sana is reduced to a voice on the phone here, Shankar does not even use Rai Bachchan’s voice for her, and the woman is still nagging her boyfriend every single time she calls him while he goes about the important business of saving the world. Since leading women in Rajinikanth films these days are anyway rarely anything but glamorous distractions, she has been replaced here by the lesser known Amy Jackson who plays a dull, impossibly curvy, Barbie-like robot assistant to Dr Vasigaran called Nila. As if she is not clichéd enough, she – the sole woman of any significance here – represents emotion and heart in the plot, while the men represent reason and scientific thought.

Though it is nice to see that a Bollywood hit machine like Akshay Kumar wants to expand his horizons and work in another Indian film industry, it is hard to understand why he chose this lukewarm role in a tepid film that gives him such limited screen time – we get to see him properly only after the interval. Kumar tackles Dr Pakshirajan with conviction, but in the end, the tons of heavy prosthetic make-up and costumes (if they can be called that) overshadow his personality, star persona and acting. 

There is only one department in which Shankar’s thoughts seem to be crystal clear: the bow to Rajinikanth’s primacy in the constellation of male Indian commercial movie stars. As if as an inside joke, a song playing in the background during the closing battle between Chitti and Pakshirajan uses the words “anaadi khiladi” which, while it literally translates into “foolish player” with reference to the bad guy, is also a reminder of the buzzword long associated with Akshay Kumar’s stardom since it has appeared in so many of his film titles. It recurs in the closing song that contains this line: “Anaadi, khiladi, narak mein teri jagah hai khaali (Hey you fool, you player, there is a place waiting for you in hell).” Umm, is this just a coincidence, or was the lyric writer being intentionally subversive?

Be that as it may, after this song comes an epilogue featuring Dr Vasigaran and Chhota Chitti a.k.a. 3.0, which amounts to an announcement of yet another sequel. Considering how steel cold and yawn-worthy 2.0 is despite its top-notch special effects, the thought of more Chittis is hardly worth celebrating.

Rating (out of five stars): *1/2

CBFC Rating (India):	UA
Running time:	146 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/2-0-movie-review-3d-rajinikanth-and-akshay-kumar-barely-face-off-in-a-lukewarm-politically-bizarre-sequel-to-enthiran-5640841.html

Poster courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/2Point0movie/

REVIEW 429: FREAKY ALI

Release date:	September 9, 2016
Director:	Sohail Khan
Cast: Language:	Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Arbaaz Khan, Asif Basra, Seema Biswas, Amy Jackson, Nikitin Dheer, Jas Arora, Paresh Ganatra, Jackie Shroff Hindi

Freaky Ali is as slim as Nawazuddin Siddiqui’s waistline, and carries none of the weight associated with his films so far. No doubt it is a pleasure to see this remarkable artiste not being grim or eccentric, as he has been in most of his high-profile roles, but the joy of watching him let his hair down as the lead in a comedy is vastly diluted by this film’s lack of substance.

The potential of the actor in this particular genre smacks us in the face in the hilarious opening minute when Siddiqui, as small-time underwear salesman Ali, rattles off a string of selling points of the chaddis he is peddling without seeming to take a moment to breathe. It reminded me of vada vendors at southern Indian railway stations crying out “vadai vadai, uzhunna vadai, parippu vadai, thaiyr vadai, vadai vadai” without a pause. Within moments though, Ali makes an ageist wisecrack that is crude but stops short of being offensive. Next he spews insults at an obese child wanting to buy an undie for his Superman suit. And the warning bells ring.

These are not warning bells of fanatical over-sensitivity or political correctness for the heck of it, but a reminder that intelligent humour is hard to do. Either the writer is specifically targeting less demanding audiences, or he lacks the imagination to pull off a two-hour movie without resorting to lazy quips drawing on prejudice. Such limitations are highly likely to show up in the plot too. Fingers crossed that they don’t.

Now that I have watched the entire film, I can confirm that in fact they do. Freaky Ali’s storyline is thinner than a potato wafer and that laptop that pegs its marketing spiel on Kareena Kapoor’s figure. To be fair to writer-director-producer Sohail Khan (whose star elder brother Salman Khan presents this film), Ali is punished by the storyline for his ageist utterances and fat jokes. Those cracks give way though to ‘jokes’ so steeped in misogyny – for which characters are rewarded not punished – that “sexist” is too mild an adjective for them. The film also fails to add anything to the early points it makes.

After trying his hand and failing at underwear sales, Ali shifts to hafta vasooli – collecting protection money from local businessmen on behalf of a notorious gangster. His partner in crime is his friend Maqsood (Sohail’s other brother Arbaaz Khan). Meanwhile, his adoptive mother (Seema Biswas) thinks her son is in “the garments business”.

All Ali wants is to make her happy and proud of him. One day Kishan (Asif Basra), who is a caddie at a posh golf course, spots Ali casually striking some balls while on a hafta vasooli visit to the club. Kishan sees sporting potential in Ali and offers to train him. Golf means money and respectability so Ali grabs the chance, and soon becomes a national-level force to reckon with in less time than it took Sultan to become a world-beating wrestler.

Okay, forget that swipe at Sultan’s believability. Films such as these demand a suspension of cynicism from the viewer, and as a masala movie addict I gladly submit to their demands if they offer solid material on other fronts. The problem with Freaky Ali is that once you are over the novelty of seeing Siddiqui in a light-hearted role and nailing the body language of a golfer at play, you realise there is little going for the film apart from him. Once a point is made about class snobbery directed at a poor man who enters a sport of rich people, you realise the film has nothing more to say. Besides, too many distractions in the form of songs, silliness, repetitive and intermittently distasteful humour take away from the goal of conveying the point that immense character and grit – not financial wealth alone – are what go into making a great sportsperson.

Early on we learn that Ali’s Hindu adoptive mother brought him up as a Muslim because she found him outside an Islamic holy place and assumed his biological parents were Muslim. Why has this gradually come to be seen as a secular imperative? Would it have been intolerant on her part to bring him up as a Hindu? If she had been Muslim and found him outside a temple or church, would it have been intolerant to bring him up as a Muslim? Unthinking liberalism, I say. Religion is not a genetic trait, it is a belief system that parents pass on to their offspring like all values, and expecting someone to bring up their adoptive child in the religion of its biological parents makes as little sense as expecting a hardcore capitalist to bring up an adoptive child as a Communist because its birth parents were Communist.

This is just an aside. Freaky Ali’s undoing is its superficial writing with clichés piling up in the run-up to a dated climax. Of the cast, Basra and Arbaaz are sweet, Dheer as a hapless giant is likeable, Biswas is miscast since she looks too close to Siddiqui’s age and Amy Jackson has little to do but be svelte. Siddiqui is spot-on. It is sad though that he agreed to a running ‘joke’ that involves his character and Maqsood assuming that the women officials at a tournament venue are all on duty to sleep with the men – because what else can smart women in Western outfits do?

The film’s attitude to women is further revealed by the graph of Megha (Jackson) who gives up being the arrogant golfing champion Vikram Rathore’s manager to become not Ali’s manager but his aimless arm-candy-cum-girlfriend. Was it inconceivable to Khan that a woman could be his hero’s manager?

Frankly, expecting this film to get this is expecting too much. After an initial promise of unrelenting humour, Freaky Ali’s only strength is Siddiqui’s talent. It is worth remembering that the cute, huggable, goofy golfer at the centre of this film is played by the same guy who played that creepy, sadistic serial killer in Anurag Kashyap’s excellent Raman Raghav 2.0 just months back. That said, even the gifted Siddiqui cannot save Freaky Ali from its own flimsiness.

Rating (out of five): *

CBFC Rating (India):	UA
Running time:	120 minutes

Postscript: Another aside. Liverpool native Amy Jackson who plays Megha in Freaky Ali is a virtual unknown in Bollywood, but she has somehow convinced the UK press that she is “one of Bollywood’s biggest stars”. A 2014 article headlined with those exact words appeared not on a marginal media platform but on a website run by the well-regarded British online newspaper The Independent. Here it is, have a good laugh: http://tinyurl.com/j5fjo2n The Independent’s write-up quotes Jackson speaking to The Mail on Sunday tabloid. No sane person expects quality journalism from MoS, but it is disappointing to see such poor research from The Independent.

Posters courtesy: imdb.com

REVIEW 349: SINGH IS BLIING

Release date:	October 2, 2015
Director:	Prabhudheva
Cast: Language:	Akshay Kumar, Amy Jackson, Lara Dutta, Kay Kay Menon, Pradeep Rawat, Anil Mange, Arfi Lamba, Rati Agnihotri, Kunal Kapoor Hindi

The wisest thing to do when you make a film this silly is to flaunt your silliness with pride and not pretend to be anything else. Singh Is Bliing does precisely that.

And so, though it has the IQ of a boiled potato and a plot thinner than the slim heroine, the film gets by on the combined strength of its unabashedness, Akshay Kumar’s charisma and complete surrender to the madness of the plot, a supporting cast featuring excellent comedians – in particular Ms Lara Dutta – and situations that are funny, even if often cliched.

At the centre of it all is Raftaar Singh, an ironic choice of name since he is intellectually slow. Raftaar (Akshay) is a well-meaning buffoon in Punjab’s Bassi Pathanan village. He is spoilt by his mother (Rati Agnihotri) and constantly chided by his father for his inability to ever complete a given task. Desperate to reform him, Dad packs him off to Goa to work with an old friend.

A continent away in Romania, the villain Mark (a nicely evil Kay Kay Menon) misbehaves with Sara (Amy Jackson), daughter of a fellow arms dealer (Kunal Kapoor, yes Shashi Kapoor’s son – brief role, neat performance). Sara snubs Mark. She goes into hiding to save herself from the vengeful fellow, taking off for Goa where she hopes to also locate her estranged mother.

All this has been engineered to get Akshay and Amy into the same frame so they can sing, dance and fall in love. Along the way they encounter more villains, maa ka pyaar and endless khana-peena. The story – credited to Grazing Goat Pictures and not to an individual – is flimsy, but the film works because the narrative strings together one wacky comical episode after another.

Akshay is great with physical comedy, acting here not just with his face and voice, but with his entire body. Even in the supremely boring song Cinema dekhe mamma, his dance moves and gestures are a hoot. His willingness to make a fool of himself works well for Singh Is Bliing.

The 48-year-old oozes charm, which is a good thing because it would otherwise be impossible to accept a 54-year-old Rati playing his mother (biology is clearly not Prabhudheva’s strength). It’s also worth asking if the tremendously fit Akshay does not realise that he unwittingly emphasises his advancing years by playing the sweetheart of an actress 24 years his junior. It is a pity that his confidence in his stardom does not translate into acting with women his age.

Nevertheless, Akshay is one of this film’s biggest strengths. The other is Lara, who has been poorly served by Bollywood since she first entered films. Her penchant for comedy was evident in Housefull and even in the unsuccessful Jhoom Barabar Jhoom. Why doesn’t Hindi cinema have more to offer her? She is a riot in Singh Is Bliing, killing every scene in which she appears as Emily, an interpreter between Sara who can’t speak Hindi and Raftaar who doesn’t know English. Wish there was more of her in this film and in films in general.

Sara has very few dialogues, but the director makes up for that by letting her flying fists and agile limbs do the talking in scene after scene in which she bashes up bad guys. Good job, Amy! Quite unusually for Hindi cinema, far from seeking the hero’s protection, she protects him in one scene. The film also delivers a message – one that Akshay has been championing off screen too – that women must learn self-defence techniques. While it would be naïve to see this as an all-in-one solution, it is certainly one of many that could work together to end gender-related violence.

The positive messaging is a tiny step forward, since Akshay and Prabhu’s previous collaboration was the all-pervasively sexist, disturbingly misogynistic Rowdy Rathore. Not that Singh Is Bliing shrugs off sexism altogether. Disappointingly, the film features a stock joke about an overweight woman’s unsuitability for marriage and another about a woman with a blackened face.  

Singh Is Bliing’s songs are so-so, except for the hilarious Dil kare chu che in which the tune, lyrics, Akshay and wonderful Lara had me laughing so much that I got a stomach ache. Equally enjoyable is the later use of the song in the background score in a couple of juvenile scenes. Chu che is a fine example of intelligent stupidity – and no, that’s not a contradiction in terms.

All that being said, your ability to enjoy the film depends on your tolerance for Bollywood’s male-centricity and the industry’s Sikh cliche. Despite Amy’s fisticuffs and Lara’s talent, there is no question that Akshay is the centre of this universe. And though the jovial Sikh is a positive stereotype, it is exasperating that mainstream Hindi cinema refuses to portray members of the community as anything but jolly to the point of being OTT, breaking into Bhangra at the drop of a hat and/or deeply patriotic individuals waxing eloquent about nationalism and Sikh honour.

The world will perhaps end the day Bollywood delivers a grim, non-Bhangra-dancing, cowardly, unpatriotic, unfunny Sikh character. I wonder if the Sikh community will even want that. 

While we consider that question, there’s Singh Is Bliing. The name probably has some deep meaning in the minds of the film’s team, but to me all it is is an effort to remind us of Anees Bazmee’s Singh Is Kinng (2008) which remains one of Akshay’s biggest box-office successes till date. SIK was a more substantial, more memorable film. SIB’s lack of substance makes it forgettable, but while it lasts it is a pleasant, mostly harmless, rib-tickling, side-splitting affair.

Rating (out of five): **1/4

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	142 minutes

Photographs courtesy: 

(1) Poster & Chu che still: https://www.facebook.com/SIBTheFilm/

(2) Picture of Akshay & Prabhudheva: Sterling Communications