REVIEW 399: DO LAFZON KI KAHANI

Release date:	June 10, 2016
Director:	Deepak Tijori
Cast: Language:	Randeep Hooda, Kajal Aggarwal, Dhiraj Shetty, Mamik, Anil George, Yuri Suri Hindi

And once again, Hottie Hooda shines in a film that proves he deserves better.

Do Lafzon Ki Kahani (A Story In Two Words, a title derived from the old Hindi film song) can be summarised in one lafz: dated.

This Randeep Hooda-Kajal Aggarwal-starrer strings together many trite situations from many romantic dramas of the past. Even the two leads are clichés. He the strong, silent type. She whose chirpiness is designed to charm him, because wide-eyed, bholi-bhaali women who chatter endlessly are cho chweet and cute, na? Except that humans who chirrup and tweet sound like twits, and it is really not that cute when a seemingly intelligent adult derives life lessons from a formulaic saas-bahu Hindi soap that the film seems to be mocking in the first place.

After an ominous-looking, intriguing opening scene involving a shootout and a disfigured Hooda in a Kuala Lumpur dockyard (later repeated with a shocking revelation), the film descends into syrupy, saccharine territory, giving us a hero with a dark secret and a bubbly blind woman who he falls for at first sight, enough to sacrifice his life, limbs and future to restore her vision.

Suraj (no surname) was once a boxer, but now earns his living doing multiple odd jobs. Jenny Mathias appears to be a full-time art teacher and part-time physiotherapist – I am not entirely sure how that is possible, but the poorly-thought-out physio angle is thrown in for a reason.

They meet when he takes the job of a parking attendant and she lands up to watch a soppy soap on the TV in his booth. Considering the generous size of her home, it is clear she can afford a TV. Since she was in the habit of watching that show with Suraj’s elderly predecessor, one assumes the old man was her friend, except that her supposed buddy did not bother to inform her when he retired. Why then? Perhaps because the writer could not think of a convincing way to introduce his reclusive hero to his bright, sociable – yet inexplicably friendless – heroine while simultaneously introducing us to her love for intellectually challenged teleserials?

Whatever.

There is a bit of a twist in the tale involving how their paths first crossed, but the potential of that plot point is frittered away when it too is used to further raise the film’s schmaltzy quotient.

(Spoiler alert for this paragraph) If you are a boxer and a sad-looking stranger asks you to throw a fight because your opponent, who is her husband, desperately needs the winnings for their daughter’s cancer treatment, here’s a suggestion: don’t throw the fight, offer to pay the kid’s hospital bills instead. There’s too much of this stuff and nonsense in the film. Seriously! Are we not past the era of silly, easily solvable confusions, misunderstandings and qurbani?

Little time and zero imagination appear to have been expended on the film’s writing (the kahani of Do Lafzon Ki Kahani is credited to Girish Dhamija though it is inspired by the 2011 South Korean film Always). However, money has clearly been spent on the technical departments, especially the design, choreography and shooting of the impressively done, bone-crunching boxing scenes. But even this element and the catchy song Mujhe jeena sikha diya are not striking enough to make DLKK a film worth recommending.

In this ocean of unimaginativeness swim Randeep Hooda and Kajal Aggarwal, playing the lead couple. Aggarwal has worked across Indian film industries for several years. Her calling card in Hindi cinema (if at all it can be considered one) is a project that treated its heroine as the hero’s mandatory arm candy: Singham in 2011. Given a meatier role here, formulaic – and potentially irritating – though it is, she shows us that she is capable of much more than that. It does not hurt, of course, that she looks really pretty in minimal makeup and simple, attractive frocks. A hat tip here to Ashley Rebello and Terrence Lobo who are credited with the costume design & styling.

As for Hooda, 2016 has been a good showcase for his underrated talent, with Laal Rang, Sarbjit and Do Lafzon Ki Kahani releasing in quick succession. There is a moment in this film when a sightless girl asks Suraj what he looks like and he, the shyness and quiet pride flitting across his face, tells her that people consider him “rough and tough”. Contrast this turn as the reticent Suraj with his performance as a feisty villager who is reduced to a skeletal mess in a Pakistani prison in Sarbjit or the plucky, sexy criminal he plays in Laal Rang and you might weep with despair at mainstream Bollywood’s failure to give him substantial roles more often in better films. PS: Hooda takes off his shirt to train in Do Lafzon and, err, let’s just say that makes me very happy.

Interesting actors pop up in supporting roles in this film: Mamik, who played Aamir Khan’s brother in Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar (1992), plays Suraj’s coach Omi; and theatre actor Anil George, earlier seen in Miss Lovely, plays the owner of the club that Suraj once represented.

But even talented actors cannot save this treacle-drenched, outmoded, unoriginal affair. The lafz “love never hurts...love heals” flash on screen right in the end. It takes a really well-made film to pull off that kind of mush. Do Lafzon Ki Kahani ain’t that film.

Rating (out of five): *

CBFC Rating (India):	UA
Running time:	127 minutes 49 seconds

Poster courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Do_Lafzon_Ki_Kahani_(film)

171: SPECIAL 26

Release date:	February 8, 2013
Director:	Neeraj Pandey
Cast: Language:	Akshay Kumar, Anupam Kher, Manoj Bajpayee, Jimmy Sheirgill, Rajesh Sharma, Kajal Aggarwal, Divya Dutta, Deepraj Rana Hindi

When the word “interval” flashed on screen halfway through Special 26, I remember being taken aback. Hadn’t the Censor certificate indicated a much longer film? How come the interval had arrived so fast? A glance at my watch indicated that approximately 1 hour 15 minutes of the film had already rolled by! Whaaaaaaaaat?!

When a nearly two-and-a-half-hour film feels like it’s short, you know it’s special. Special 26 is about a quartet of con men in 1987 who pose as CBI officials and conduct fake raids on black-money-laden politicians and businesspersons. The story is as basic as that. But with the treatment of the cons, the audacity of the players in this game and the cool-headedness that helps them get away with their crimes, writer-director Neeraj Pandey ends up giving us a thoroughly enjoyable suspense drama – based partly on real-life events – that also serves as a stinging indictment of our loophole-ridden criminal investigation system without tomtomming the message, all while examining the psychology of the corrupt. It is, as a certain lady from another film might have said: entertainment, entertainment, entertainment.

A neatly understated Akshay Kumar as the leader of the gang and Anupam Kher as his loyal cohort play off each other very well to deliver engaging performances. With OMG Oh My God and now this film, it’s clear that Akshay is trying to take his career in a whole new direction, which is a relief because this is an actor who has grown tremendously since we first saw him on screen and he really does owe it to himself to do more than gaudy comedies like Rowdy Rathore and Khiladi 786 that are indistinguishable from each other. In a role that unfairly gives him far less scope to display his acting skills, Rajesh Sharma as Joginder proves that great actors often rise above lack of screen time and dialogues. That one look of desperation he throws at Ajay when a particular raid seems to be flopping is a lovely reminder of the actor who played the corrupt-yet-good-hearted cop in No One Killed Jessica and that scintillating scene where he casually mentions to Sabrina Lal that he took a bribe to not beat up her sister’s killer in custody. The entire cast (Jimmy Sheirgill, Divya Dutta in a small role and Deepraj Rana) acquit themselves well. But the stellar performance in Special 26 comes from Manoj Bajpayee whose turn as the straight-talking CBI official Wasim Khan is his best in years (yes, I say that despite the accolades that have come his way for Gangs of Wasseypur 1). And when did this man become so thin? Did he lose weight for this role? Must say the extra lean look suits Mr Bajpayee!

It’s also nice that Akshay does not hog screen space in Special 26 although he’s the superstar of the bunch. But then the question arises: why does the film feel the need to assign a mandatory “love interest” to Ajay although he is not a stereotypical Bollywood hero? That romantic track unnecessarily slows down the film especially since every appearance by the girlfriend (played by Kaajal Aggarwal who looks too young for Akshay) is accompanied by a loud, tuneless, superfluous song. That brings me to the music by M.M. Kreem whose Tu miley dil khiley from Criminal still haunts me. In Special 26, his work is a huge disappointment.

The pointless love angle notwithstanding, the screenplay is taut and crisp for the most part, peppered with cheeky dialogues epitomised by the honest official who asks his boss straight to his face: will you give me a promotion or should I start taking bribes? For a change, the cops actually look and behave like real cops instead of actors-playing-cops-and-robbers. The art direction, costumes and styling are impeccably 1987, right down to the ancient Maruti 800s and a relatively empty Connaught Place in Delhi (empty! imagine that!) through which we witness one of the most exciting chases seen in a Hindi film in recent times. Though we are told next to nothing of the four crooks’ backgrounds and barely anything about Wasim Khan either, the brief shots of their home spaces – the elderly man with lots of children and the pregnant wife in Chandigarh, the doting middle-class dad who orders a woman to cover up her cleavage when in public, an overhead shot of an Old Delhi home – are deliciously telling. We didn’t really need to know anything more, which is why we could have done without the passing reference to Ajay’s motivations for forming his gang … half-baked, unconvincing, quite like the attempt to explain the title by one of the characters. And it’s rather inexplicable that despite the stashes of cash they’ve looted, the gang don’t seem to have much money. Still, the execution of the heists is so entertaining that these flaws somewhat fade into the background by the end of the film.

Neeraj Pandey’s earlier film A Wednesday was an equally well-produced, entertaining film though its populist political stance was disturbing: in its indirect call to the general public to take the law into their own hands, the film unabashedly and irresponsibly played to the gallery in an angry, terror-ridden India. Special 26 taps into the prevailing frustration with corruption and the “system” but stops short of glorifying the con men, simply telling it like it is.

Bollywood rarely does thrillers, and the few it takes up are rarely well done. That’s why Special 26 is such a very pleasant surprise.

 

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	143 minutes

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special_26    

 

REVIEW 64: SINGHAM

Release date:	July 22, 2011
Director:	Rohit Shetty
Cast:	Ajay Devgn, Prakash Raj, Kajal Aggarwal, Sonali Kulkarni, Sachin Khedekar

Early on in Singham, there is a point at which Bajirao Singham’s fists send a villain flying. As the hapless man’s body rotates in mid-air, Singham takes a leap, lunges towards that body spinning in slow motion, and steps over him on his way to the next bad guy. It’s at this point that you must decide whether you are in the mood for a no-holds-barred fantasy action thriller or you wish to leave the hall. Singham is not everyone’s cup of tea – there’s too much in it that defies logic, gravity and many other laws of physics. But if you enjoy at least the occasional hero whose superpowers are not derived from the wizarding world or the bite of a spider but simply from the fact that he’s the leading man in an Indian film, do stay on – you’re in for a zany ride.

Singham is the story of an honest policeman in a small village bordering Goa and Maharashtra. Bajirao Singham is loved by his people for the justice he metes out, relying more on the heart and human ties than legal procedures. This is a film about what happens when he crosses swords with the powerful criminal-politician Jaykanth Shikre.

Singham is a remake of the 2010 Tamil superhit of the same name. The Hindi version does not have the incredibly handsome Surya in the lead, but what it does have is the incredibly intense Ajay Devgn whose searing eyes have always been an interesting contrast to his unexpectedly shy smile. In this film, he comes to us more muscular than ever before – those arms are a tad too bulked up for my tastes, but boy oh boy, do I envy him his abs! Devgn is pitch perfect as the straight-talking, kind-hearted Singham who single-handedly beats up entire gangs of goons, yet is shy in love. Providing a fabulous villainous foil to Singham’s goodness is National Award-winning Tamil/Telugu/Malayalam actor Prakash Raj as Jaykanth Shikre, reprising his role from the original Tamil film. Prakash Raj ups the ante here, his arrogance and ruthlessness several notches higher than in his Tamil avatar. Of the supporting cast, I particularly enjoyed the actors playing Singham’s colleagues. Kaajal Aggarwal playing Singham’s girlfriend may not be the most charismatic star you will find, but she’s pretty and bubbly and sadly, the role demands nothing much of her beyond being the woman behind her man.

So Singham is a clever mix of action balanced out by emotion, romance and even a comic track. Bajirao Singham is Amitabh Bachchan of the 1970s but with muscles. He is Salman Khan of the past couple of years but with more acting muscle. He is Sunny Deol of Gadar but with less shouting. If Salman’s recent films have marked the return of the Angry Young Man to Bollywood, with Singham that short-tempered vigilante digs his heels in further. But unlike Wanted and Dabangg which were undisguised tributes to Salman, this film comes across as a gentle ode to the baap of them all, Bachchan. At one point, Singham is even mocked at his police station by a villain who dips his voice in an attempted baritone: “Ab yeh mat kehna ki jab tak kaha na jaaye chup chaap khade raho, yeh police station hai tumhare baap ka ghar nahin.”

The film is filled with such 1970s style dialoguebaazi. My favourites are Shikre’s “sab kuchh karne ka, lekin Jaykanth Shikre ka ego hurt nahin karne ka” and the one I know I’ll be quoting for years to come, Singham’s “Meri zaroorte kam hai, isliye mere zameer mein dum hai.” It’s a line that made me want to chuck up my notions of dignity and whistle during the press preview.

Despite the improbabilities inherent in this genre, make no mistake about this: Singham is masala with meaning. For me its lesson lies in the hero’s punchline: if your material needs are less, you’re less likely to feel the need to supplement your income through dishonest means, don’t you think? This is also an extremely intelligently crafted commercial entertainer designed to appeal to disparate audiences. When the hero seamlessly peppers his Hindi dialogues with Marathi, when he identifies himself as “Maratha Bajirao Singham” with a roar, I can just imagine the ferocity of the cheers in a movie hall in Maharashtra. As if Prakash Raj’s presence and the curiosity around the Hindi remake of a well-loved Tamil film is not enough to attract south Indian cinema buffs, there’s also an entire sequence with Tulu dialogues and a joke comparing a gigantic cut-out at election time to a “south superstar”. Singham also plays shamelessly to the gallery in an India disgusted and disillusioned with corruption. Which is why, I guess, despite my reservations about what seems like a justification of police atrocities in the film, I still couldn’t help but enjoy the leading man’s animal-like powers over his beastly bête noir.

The action choreography is brilliant, a sort of mid-path between Amitabh Bachchan and Rajinikanth. The title track and the background score are a thumping tribute to the film’s larger than life appeal, though the romantic numbers didn’t work for me and it felt odd to see Devgn lip syncing to vastly different playback voices in two songs. It also feels odd to hear the hero’s girlfriend addressing him by his surname – I guess that’s the extent of the film’s keenness to convey Bajirao’s leonine qualities to us.

For a change Singham is a legitimate, above-board remake. But considering that a huge percentage of the film is a carbon copy of the original Tamil (with direct translations of dialogues and exact duplications of fight scenes) I wish the credits had been shared with the original writers and action designer.

In creating a highly melodramatic vehicle for Surya, Tamil director Hari had shorn his film of the poignance that was so appealing in Kaakha Kaakha, an earlier highly memorable high-action cop saga featuring the actor and directed by Gautham Menon. Rohit Shetty’s version raises the drama several levels higher. On the downside then, Singham is formulaic and unrealistic. But its plus point is that it injects the formula with pulsating energy, making it a supremely entertaining watch. Congratulations Rohit Shetty! Prakash Raj has acted in a few Hindi films already, but I suspect that years from now we will look back at July 22, 2011, as the day when he well and truly arrived in Bollywood. Ajay Devgn has for years now been a major star but I suspect too that we will look back at this as the week when he finally became a Khan.

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

CBFC Rating:                       U/A

Running time:                        161 Minutes

Language:                              Hindi, Marathi and even some Tulu

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singham_(2011_film)