REVIEW 403: SHORGUL

Release date:	July 1, 2016
Director:	Jitendra Tiwari and P. Singh
Cast: Language:	Jimmy Sheirgill, Ashutosh Rana, Sanjay Suri, Narendra Jha, Anirudh Dave, Suha Gezen, Hiten Tejwani, Eijaz Khan, Deepraj Rana Hindi

First, let us get this out of the way: Muzaffarnagar is not mentioned anywhere in Shorgul. The allusions are unmistakable though, which explains media reports that BJP MLA Sangeet Som has been raising a ruckus about this little-known film.

Som is a prime accused in the Muzaffarnagar riots of 2013. Actor Jimmy Sheirgill in Shorgul plays a fictional Ranjeet Om, an MLA from a right-wing Hindu party who engineers communal riots in the town of Malihabad – in a state ruled by a Chief Minister Mithilesh Yadav (Sanjay Suri) – to further his goal of becoming a Member of Parliament in the next election.

Som clearly does not know when to shut up though, because the fact is, Shorgul makes allusions to other contemporary political leaders and situations that could very well place the story elsewhere too. Such as the film’s slim Muslim leader Alam Khan (played by Narendra Jha) who delivers an inflammatory speech about the likely consequences of India’s Muslims rising up against the country’s Hindus, which sounds almost like a replica of the real-life speech allegedly delivered by All India Majlis-e-Ittehad-ul Muslimeen MLA Akbaruddin Owaisi in Adilabad in 2012 for which he was arrested in 2013.

All right then, that point has been addressed. Onward to the review. If you have been brought up in a secular, liberal environment, it is easy to dismiss some of the situations and conversations in this film as a figment of the writers’ minds. That scene, for instance, in which a Muslim student asks a fellow Muslim collegemate to hang out with her own people instead of Hindu friends. Improbable? Actually, not. If you have kept your eyes and ears open and looked beyond your own immediate family, you would know that such words have been – and are – routinely spoken in homes and public places across India, earlier in whispers and now increasingly openly.

The point is, the film’s story is believable. A Muslim girl called Zainab and a Hindu boy called Raghu grow up as friends. He falls in love with her but she is unaware of his feelings. When her fiancé Saleem discovers the truth, it leads to tension between all parties involved and ultimately, an unplanned act of violence that is used by Ranjeet Om to incite riots in the town.

Caught in the crossfire along with the youngsters is Raghu’s father, Chaudhary (Ashutosh Rana), a respected local leader who is constantly at loggerheads with Om.

Plausible plotline, as you can see. The execution is a different matter altogether.

Shorgul’s screenplay by Jitendra Tiwari is effective in not taking sides with either community involved. Unfortunately, it takes its title very seriously and ultimately loses itself in its own din.

The film – co-directed by Tiwari with P. Singh – is noisy, lacks finesse and depth, and the political machinations are diluted to irritating effect by too many loud songs and problematic production quality.

At the centre of it all is an actress so uncharismatic playing Zainab, that it is hard to understand why two men – not one, but two – are so smitten by her as to be willing to give up their lives for her. Newcomer Suha Gezen lacks a screen presence. Making things worse is the director duo’s evident fixation with what they consider her immense beauty. As a result, she is given a lingering introductory shot and the camera gazes lovingly at her throughout.

It does not help Gezen’s case that Zainab’s suitors are played by TV stars Anirudh Dave and Hiten Tejwani who are both easy on the eye and better actors. Dave does twice resort to screaming to convey a burst of temper but there is reason to forgive him that folly in the scene in which Raghu acknowledges his feelings for his lady friend. Tejwani, who is his senior, lends a quiet likeability to Saleem.

There is also some pleasure to be derived from the performances of Messrs Sheirgill, Rana and Jha. All three manage to avoid sounding bombastic for a considerable part of the film, despite the decibel levels that surround them (not counting a verbal explosion by Rana in his final scene).

There is a not-entirely-uninteresting twist in the tale. The real mystery though is why, through Sanjay Suri’s cameo, the filmmakers have tried to place a halo around the head of real-life UP Chief Minister Akhilesh Yadav.

Be that as it may, Shorgul is a perfect example of the Central Board of Film Certification’s persistent inconsistency. Despite its communal language and intense violence, the film has got away with a UA rating and, according to co-director P. Singh, a directive to remove just three words – gau, Ganga and Godhra. This seems like an act of extreme indulgence from a Board that just last month fought hard to prevent the release of Udta Punjab and had to be forced by the judiciary to let that film come to theatres with an A certificate.

It is not this review’s case that Shorgul should be banned – of course it should not be. Question is, by what yardstick does its content not merit an A (restricted to adults) rating? And why the double standards?

The lasting memory from Shorgul though is of its overall air of tackiness. The song and dance routine accompanying the opening credits should have been a sign of things to come: it features a poorly shot Hrishitaa Bhatt stuck with some of the most awkward choreography seen in a film in recent memory. Closing the brackets on the mediocrity is a ridiculous video of a wailing, weeping Zainab/Gezen filmed underwater and running alongside the closing credits, possibly to convey some deep philosophical point. It is unwittingly funny.

Between the two ends, we get an array of junior artistes with limited talent, a scar on Eijaz Khan’s neck that proves the prosthetic make-up department lacked funds and oh yes, a couple of songs with lyrics by Congress politician Kapil Sibal that are unmemorable enough to merit this cliché: his writing is nothing to write home about.

The Muzaffarnagar riots are a blot on contemporary history and the wounds from that blaze are yet to heal. It is almost criminal to use references to this human tragedy to draw audiences into a deafening, unimaginative, ordinary film.

Rating (out of five): *

CBFC Rating (India):	UA
Running time:	132 minutes 47 seconds

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/shorgul-review-loud-tacky-film-on-the-not-muzaffarnagar-riots-2866476.html

Poster courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/ShorGulFilm/

RISHI KAPOOR ON TWITTER / FILM FATALE: COLUMN PUBLISHED IN THE HINDU BUSINESSLINE

FEISTY, FEARLESS CHINTUJI

Rishi Kapoor is taking the social media by storm, commenting on contentious issues and refusing to be silenced by trolls, in a manner uncharacteristic of mainstream Bollywood

By Anna MM Vetticad

“I am angry. Why do you equate food with religion?? I am a beef eating Hindu. Does that mean I am less God fearing then a non eater? Think!!” (sic)

Such comments on Twitter are likely to raise a storm, irrespective of who the writer is. This one, however, drew anger and surprise in equal measure — anger from religious chauvinists and surprise from regular followers of Bollywood. Why surprise? Because the tweet came from @chintskap, the Twitter handle of senior Hindi film actor Rishi Kapoor aka Chintu to family and friends.

Bollywood-gazers are used to stars of mass-targeted cinema playing it safe on political and social issues. Not so the feisty @chintskap, who unleashed a string of furious tweets on the beef ban in Maharashtra, eliciting a storm of abuse from the Hindutva brigade.

Typically, venom was directed at his female relatives, his looks, age and other aspects of his personal life. The less vituperative tweets questioned his commitment to Hinduism and asked him to feed pork to Muslim guests, with one lamenting the alleged “Christianisation” of Bollywood.

Kapoor is admittedly hurt but undeterred, a pleasant change from the tradition of stars retreating — online and offline — even before bigots attack. And while he may not be the first or only mainstream Bollywood heavyweight to embrace contentious questions, he certainly remains a rarity.

In earlier times, political and social discussions were mostly seen as the preserve of documentary-makers and parallel film practitioners, not their more mainstream, commercial counterparts. The legendary Dev Anand’s reported opposition to Indira Gandhi’s Emergency of 1975-77 remained an uncommon episode for a long time. Over the decades, it has usually been assumed — by the media and public — that those who take positions on crucial issues have secret ambitions of joining political parties and/or standing for elections. Some journalists and creative people have suggested that artists sully themselves by expressing their adherence to a party.

Unlike in Hollywood, where it is routine to openly identify yourself as Democrat or Republican, mainstream Bollywood avoids revealing its party affiliations. Of India’s three biggest film industries — Hindi, Telugu and Tamil — Hindi film personalities alone have persistently achieved the feat of even entering electoral politics or repeatedly campaigning during elections, and yet steering clear of prickly subjects and/or a commitment to one party or ideology.

Amitabh Bachchan’s changing (perceived or real) proximity to various political parties and individuals over the decades prompted Open magazine to put him on its cover in 2010 with the caustic headline: ‘A Man With No Convictions’. Salman Khan’s public appearance with Narendra Modi in Ahmedabad in the run-up to the 2014 elections would have done a trapeze artiste proud. Khan praised the development he had seen in Gujarat, asked the crowd if they wished to see Modi as PM, said that “the best man” should become PM, that “God” would decide who “the best man” is and that Modi should get what destiny had planned for him.

That being said, there has been a gradual change in Bollywood in the past five years. One major turning point came in 2010 when Shah Rukh Khan refused to bow down to Shiv Sena pressure to apologise for his remark about Pakistani cricketers in the IPL. Another watershed was the 2014 Parliamentary poll when Bollywood musician Vishal Dadlani, actors Jaaved Jaaferi, Gul Panag and others wore their support for Aam Aadmi Party on their sleeve. In the same year, a group of prominent citizens — including purveyors of hardcore commercial Bollywood successes — published a statement asking the electorate to vote for secular parties. Interpreting that letter as a snub to the BJP, director Madhur Bhandarkar, actors Anupam Kher, Tusshar Kapoor, Vivek Oberoi and others openly declared their support for Modi and his party.

The emotionally charged 2014 elections notwithstanding, mainstream Bollywood by and large still keeps politics at arm’s length. Do keep in mind that ‘politics’ does not mean parties and polls alone, it covers everything from cultural suppression and gender repression to communalism and the economy.

Optimists would point out that more mainstream Bollywood figures are speaking out now than ever before on potentially controversial themes, and not everyone is easily cowed down. Twinkle Khanna, for instance, has not budged despite the name-calling in response to her Twitter feed and newspaper column, which have covered a range of topics from Modi to menstruation.

It’s impossible not to note, though, that most of her colleagues prefer to remain silent or, at best, ambivalent and inconsistent. For instance, within days of bravely confronting an influential news publication for its sexism on Twitter last year, Deepika Padukone issued a statement on her position and simultaneously announced that she would say nothing further on the subject, even attending the same media group’s film awards function months later.

Meanwhile in Mumbai, Rishi Kapoor remains cheery and determined despite the invective being hurled at him. “I speak from the heart. I will not bend,” he assures me when I call. His colleagues who use the social media only to tell us about their fawning fans and films will hopefully be inspired by this spirited veteran, who has opinions on matters that matter and is not scared to air them. After all, the purpose of freedom of expression is lost if we only speak when there is nothing to be afraid of.

(Anna MM Vetticad is the author of The Adventures of an Intrepid Film Critic. Twitter: @annavetticad)

(This column by Anna MM Vetticad was first published in The Hindu Businessline newspaper on March 28, 2015)

Original link: http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/features/blink/watch/living-out-loud/article7036019.ece

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

Note: This photograph was not published in The Hindu Businessline

Related link: Anna MM Vetticad’s May 2014 column in The Hindu Businessline on the pro-Modi-versus-anti-Modi debate in Bollywood during the 2014 general election: http://annavetticadgoes2themovies.blogspot.in/2014/05/film-fatale-bollywoods-pro-modi-vs-no.html

REVIEW 257: DEKH TAMASHA DEKH

Release date:	April 18, 2014
Director:	Feroz Abbas Khan
Cast: Language:	Apoorva Arora, Satish Kaushik, Tanvi Azmi, Vinay Jain, Satish Alekar, Sharad Ponkshe, Alok Rajwade, Jayant Wadkar, Ganesh Yadav, Dhiresh Joshi Hindi

In a seaside town somewhere on the deceptively tranquil Indian coast, the giant cut-out of a neta falls on a poor man, crushing him to death. Under normal circumstances Hamid Tangewala would have got a funeral and been promptly forgotten by all but his closest family. As it happens, however, this is no ordinary poor man. He was once Kishan, an impoverished Hindu who fell in love with a Muslim woman called Fatima (Tanvi Azmi), converted to Islam and married her a long long time ago. In a nation perennially searching for political hot potatoes, a local Hindu leader (Sharad Ponkshe) shifts his attention from an offensive book to demand that “Kishan’s body” be handed over to “them”. What follows is a battle involving police, courts and media, in a film that underlines the utter ridiculousness of riots and religious bigotry, like few Hindi films have done in the past.

Director Feroz Abbas Khan’s Dekh Tamasha Dekh (DTD) is an unusual cocktail of humour and poignance, unusual because of the grimness of the subject and because he has chosen satire as an instrument to convey the bizarre lengths to which violence-prone communalists will go to score a point. Khan – a veteran of theatre, but relatively new to the film world – had earlier helmed Gandhi My Father, a film on the Mahatma’s strained relations with his son Harilal. The assured directorial hand he displayed on debut comes to his aid here again, ensuring that despite the bloodshed in the background, we are not offended when DTD induces tears and laughter in equal measure.

How can a film about riots be funny, you may well ask? Well it can be, just like a film set in a concentration camp could be a comedy? Khan displays the same directorial sleight of hand that made Roberto Benigni’s La vita é bella (Life Is Beautiful) such a hard-hitting commentary on Hitler’s Holocaust. Dekh Tamasha Dekh takes a swipe at hollow religious leaders on both sides who don’t give a damn about the people, but are happy to use them to further a dubious cause. It subtly slams the media through the character of a traitorous, chameleon-like journalist. As a hapless judge is asked to decide whether a body is Hindu or Muslim, whether that body must be cremated or buried, it gives us one of the most preposterous, most hilarious courtroom scenes ever seen in a Hindi film.

“Did you care about Kishan all those years ago when he was struggling for a living and desperately needed help?” the Hindu leader is asked. He has no credible answer and doesn’t care to search for one either. That the majority community’s bigots are hateful not just towards the minorities but also towards its own moderates is evidenced by the harassment of the gentlemanly, scholarly Professor Shastri (Satish Alekar) early in the film. Elsewhere, a moderate Muslim leader is summarily brushed aside by the more rabid elements of his biraadari, once the situation heats up. We are never shown exactly who started the riots, who lit that first fire, the point being that it doesn’t and shouldn’t matter.

Somewhere in between is an inter-community love story destroyed by the bloodshed. Most of all though, the film renders a resounding slap in the face of self-appointed guardians of “Indian culture” who assume that this country comprises one homogeneous mass of people, ignoring the vast differences in rituals and social practices across India, within states, and even within the same caste or religious community.

Some scenes are deliberately stage-like, in particular the ones involving the late Hamid’s daughter Shabbo and her boyfriend Prashant, further underlining the absurdity of the goings-on around them. This boy, who refuses to believe in a world of “them” and “us”, seems to live forever in a trance-like state, inhabiting a parallel universe far removed from his fellow citizens’ ludicrous antics that lead to tragic results.

The camera never rests for too long on any one character. Make no mistake about this though: this is a solid cast drawing on Shafaat Khan’s disturbingly incisive writing and the director’s clarity of vision. The performances are all uniformly fitting in a film with no heroes or heroines, only real people. It’s particularly heartening to see little Apoorva Arora from that 2011 gem Bubble Gum, all grown-up and playing Shabbo.

DTD is particularly resonant because of its timing, coming as it does in the middle of one of India’s most significant and polarising elections so far. It compels us to ask ourselves how political leaders can claim that a riot was not their fault if it lasted for more than a few hours under their watch. It holds up a mirror to every section of society that causes or permits communal violence to happen, either due to apathy or by actively sparking a flame. The silent secularist, the opportunist and the bigot are all to blame. The old man who takes off his hearing aid to find his peace, the editor who headlines a rumour to increase his newspaper’s circulation and save his job, the policeman who stays equidistant for a while for fear of being accused of bias, the sword-wielding rioter…in one way or the other, each one is to blame. Take one of these elements away from the mix, and the madness can end.

I laughed and cried through Dekh Tamasha Dekh because I was embarrassed and ashamed of the fact that every bit of stupidity and cruelty and insensitivity portrayed in it is true of today’s India. This is a film that should be compulsory viewing in social science classes across the country.

Rating (out of five stars): ****

CBFC Rating (India):	A
Running time:	109 minutes

Poster and trailer courtesy: Everymedia PR

Trailer 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPlgyRzE3Ug

Trailer 2 (“Is every Indian a Hindu?”:

 http://erosnow.com/#!/movie/watch/1005515/dekh-tamasha-dekh

Trailer 3:

http://erosnow.com/#!/movie/watch/1005515/dekh-tamasha-dekh/6129188/see-your-fat-neta-being-abused?ap=1

Trailer 4:

http://erosnow.com/#!/movie/watch/1005515/dekh-tamasha-dekh/6129190/newspaper-prints-rumour-as-news?ap=1