Showing posts with label Kaabil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kaabil. Show all posts

Sunday, March 5, 2017

CAMPAIGN TO COMMUNALISE DISCUSSIONS ON HINDI CINEMA / FILM FATALE: COLUMN PUBLISHED IN THE HINDU BUSINESSLINE

THERE ARE NO “HINDU ACTORS” & “MUSLIM ACTORS”, PLEASE!

The past three years have witnessed a blatant effort by communal forces to infiltrate viewer and reviewer responses to Hindi films

By Anna MM Vetticad

“Is not this same white missionary beach that gave 4 stars to raees, a movie on an anti-national Moslem terr0rist? Any Hindu actor’s movie, this hater tries to pull it down!” (sic)

This comment was one of many that appeared below my review of the Hindi film Jolly LLB 2, starring Akshay Kumar, published on Firstpost this month. If it weren’t so venomous, it would be funny. A friend with a vivid imagination says “missionary beach” conjures up visions of hanky panky in the sand — an experience I cannot claim to have had. Just as I did not give Raees a four-star review, I rated it 2.5 stars. Whatever. The truth, as you know, is irrelevant to propagandists. They prefer what Donald Trump’s aide Kellyanne Conway describes as “alternative facts”.


So what’s new? After all, falsehoods and personal attacks against critics in the virtual world are as old as the day websites first opened their comments sections to the public. The preceding paragraphs signal a relatively recent trend in online animosity though, evidenced by the pigeon-holing of Kumar.

 “Hindu actor” — what does that even mean? A man may simultaneously be Hindu and an actor, but to place the two words side by side is as reductive and demeaning to his craft as tags like “woman journalist”, “gay filmmaker”, “Dalit writer” and “black singer” when used outside discussions on discrimination.

If you have been around long enough, this labelling may remind you of Hrithik Roshan’s smashing debut in 2000, which led to some distasteful right-wing cheer at the arrival of a “Hindu superstar”. The dominance of the three Khans in the Hindi film industry had been a sore point with the Hindu Right for a while, but the political atmosphere was different back then, and the attempt to celebrate an actor’s religious identity remained on the margins of our collective existence.

That began to change with the BJP and Narendra Modi’s general election victory in 2014. The subsequent flow of the ruling party’s Internet battalions into the film criticism space turned into a flood in 2015, when Aamir Khan and Shah Rukh Khan both publicly condemned religious intolerance. Since then, these trolls have unrelentingly exhorted viewers to boycott — and critics to slam — films starring “Muslim actors” Aamir and Shah Rukh, and to back “Hindu actors” Ajay Devgn, Hrithik Roshan and Kumar.

How can we know that these are BJP supporters, you ask? Because their vocabulary and behaviour patterns have consistently mirrored BJP trolls, and mimicked the party and government’s reaction to these stars. For instance, online workers goaded “nationalists” to boycott Snapdeal, since Aamir was its brand ambassador, and Dilwale, since it starred Shah Rukh, even as the sarkar engineered the termination of Aamir’s association with the Incredible India campaign and bullied Snapdeal into leaving him.

Meanwhile, these trolls have largely spared the other Khan, Salman. BJP insiders admit that this is one of Salman’s many rewards for his proximity to the PM and silence on the government’s shenanigans.

The repulsive communal profiling of Hindi film stars peaked this January
 when the SRK-starrer Raeesclashed in theatres with Kaabil featuring Roshan. Online troops demanded that “nationalists” should skip Raees and make Kaabil a hit, while BJP national general secretary Kailash Vijayvargiya batted for Kaabil with
 this obtuse tweet he claimed
 was about demonetisation: “The #Raees who are not for the coun
try are of no use. We should all 
stand with a #Kaabil (worthy) patriot.”

As I write this column, I call up fellow critics to ask what they make of this ugly scenario. Raja Sen, whose reviews began appearing on Rediff in 2004, tells me, “The Hindu-Muslim divide among fan responses existed earlier too, but it was only one of many polarities including regionalism which one encountered as a journalist online. Now though, religion dominates responses to reviews. It is often clear that these people are not even paying attention to what you have written and that they are not necessarily film fans or mobs hired by some star’s PR, but may well be members of Chairman Modi’s orange army.”

Suparna Sharma, film critic for The Asian Age, offers this analysis: “Today’s online trolls attacking critics based entirely on the religion of certain stars are simply an extension of the ongoing campaign to communalise everything — the food we eat, the clothes we wear, how we vote, whether we stand for the national anthem or not... Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for us, box-office is secular. So while politicians and their Sanghi trolls can hound out, say, Pakistani actors from a film, they can’t really keep people out of theatres. I’d like to believe that critics, but more than them, audiences who queue up to buy tickets with their hard-earned money and commit two-three hours to a film, are above this sort of bunkum.”

Still, it is important to vocally condemn this well-strategised endeavour to infiltrate our reactions to cinema, because we cannot risk having well-meaning viewers and reviewers go the way of many political journalists, and subconsciously self-censor their public statements to avoid abuse. We live in a world where even shamshaan ghats (cremation grounds) and kabristaans (cemeteries) are being politicised. In this world, more than ever, it is important too to remind bigots that for a true cinephile, there are no “Hindu actors” and “Muslim actors”; there are only actors, characters, stories and films.

(This article was published in The Hindu Businessline’s BLink on February 25, 2017.)

Link to column published in The Hindu Businessline:


Previous instalment of Film Fatale: Ignoring the jana in Jana Gana Mana


Photographs courtesy:





Sunday, January 29, 2017

REVIEW 458: KAABIL


Release date:
January 25, 2017
Director:
Sanjay Gupta
Cast:



Language:
Hrithik Roshan, Yami Gautam, Rohit Roy, Ronit Roy, Narendra Jha, Suresh Menon, Girish Kulkarni. Guest appearance: Urvashi Rautela
Hindi


It is a fascinating idea: the perfect crime committed by a blind man whose other senses are so sharp that he can do things a seeing person could not. To expand that outline into a full-length feature though would require an investment of thought. Sanjay Gupta’s Kaabil lacks thought and much else.

The Internet tells me Kaabil’s budget was Rs 50 crore-plus. I am flummoxed by where that money went since the film’s production quality and special effects are so abysmal that I suspect there may be talented software engineers who have pulled off better student assignments. The sets look unintentionally stagey, Mumbai’s familiar external locations look plastic (as if the stars were super-imposed on existing footage), and scenes that are completely CGI-dependent – such as a fire caused by a blast in a godown – are poorly done.

(Spoilers ahead for those who have not seen the trailer)

All this mediocrity is wrapped around Rohan and Supriya Bhatnagar, he a dubbing artist, she an NGO employee. Both are blind. When Supriya is raped, the police look away because her rapists are well connected. Rohan decides to avenge her, knowing that investigators would find it hard to imagine a blind man being capable (kaabil) of meticulous planning and physically demanding execution. The bulk of the film is devoted to the manner in which Rohan gets back at the men who got after his wife.

(Spoiler alert ends)

First, for a film that is meant to be a thriller, I can think of only one OMG moment – and that one has nothing to do with Rohan’s schemes. It comes when a significant detail of the crime is revealed to Rohan by the rapist’s powerful politician brother. Rohan’s revenge is far less gasp-inducing than way better cinematic works we have already seen about persons with disabilities (PwDs) who possess phenomenal abilities.

(Another spoiler alert) The Mumbai Police should feel deeply insulted by a film in which a criminal does not bother to wear gloves but is not found out because cops do not lift fingerprints off the crime scenes. Nope, it does not occur to anyone to do so, not even that seemingly intelligent senior officer (Narendra Jha) to whom the chap had given advance intimation of his intent to commit those crimes.

Likewise, a woman commits suicide but the police do not do even a cursory check of her room, which would have led them to discover her suicide note. I know, I know, the Indian police are notoriously inefficient (Exhibit No. 1: the Arushi Talwar case), but these celluloid police are worse than anything we know of their real-life counterparts. (Spoiler alert ends)

The absurdly amateurish writing is far less objectionable than the film’s pretence that it cares about women. Kaabil is a perfect illustration of the male gaze. It is purportedly the story of a husband and a wife, the story of a woman who was raped and the man’s vendetta, but what it is in truth is a sympathy fest for the husband while the wife remains an ephemeral figure whose mindset and trauma the film barely explores.

Supriya is not a being unto herself. She exists in Kaabil solely so that the hero can fall in love with her and then display his machismo by punishing those who wronged her.

It is also terribly jarring to see an ‘item’ song in which the camera lasciviously examines a near-naked woman’s body in the middle of a film claiming to object to sexual violence against women. Such insensitivity can only come from a filmmaker feigning concern. For the record, my position on objectification is not as black and white as anti-feminists may lazily assume. For more on that, please read this article which is among the many I have written on the subject: The Naked Truth. Context matters.

Finesse in thriller writing and technical polish may not matter as much to some viewers as Hrithik Roshan does. Kaabil is a letdown on that front too. The thing about Roshan is that when he is good, he can be very very good, when he is bad, he can be Yaadein-level bad. The best that can be said about his performance as Rohan in Kaabil is that he has, in the past, been worse.

If you have not suffered Yaadein, FYI that is one of the films that marked the beginning of the end of Subhash Ghai. Roshan hammed his way through it. This beautiful-looking star needs a meticulous director to control him as an actor. His father Rakesh Roshan, Ashutosh Gowariker with Jodhaa Akbar and a couple of others have managed him well so far. He needs to seek out more like them. It is hard to understand how Roshan Senior, as the producer of Kaabil, tolerated this averageness.

It does not help Roshan Junior that Yami Gautam delivers a far more controlled performance as Supriya. There is a marked contrast between her work and his distractingly laboured effort at playing blind. Gautam needs to be commended for doing a fair job with her role despite the limited writing of her character.

The word “kaabil” is used with two meanings in this film: “worthy” and “capable”. The first is articulated in the title song “Main tere kaabil hoon, ya tere kaabil nahin” which here translates into, “Am I worthy of you or am I not?”

The film’s primary preoccupation is the other meaning though: Is he “capable” of ‘protecting’ his woman? Sanjay Gupta may argue that he is turning stereotypes of PwDs on their head with his portrayal of an extraordinarily able blind man, but his definition of kaabil when placed in the context of disability simply perpetuates patriarchal notions of manhood, masculinity and what it means to be an ‘asli mard. Read: physically strong, physically flawless.

It is disappointing that this film should come from the producer who directed and co-wrote Koi… Mil Gaya, which starred Hrithik Roshan. C’mon Messrs Roshan, you are better than this.

The kindest review I could give Kaabil is to say it is not unbearable. What it is is commonplace, unremarkable, unthinking and shoddy.
  
Rating (out of five stars): *

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