167: MATRU KI BIJLEE KA MANDOLA

Release date:	January 11, 2013
Director:	Vishal Bhardwaj
Cast: Language:	Pankaj Kapoor, Imran Khan, Anushka Sharma, Shabana Azmi, Arya Babbar  Hindi

In a remote village in Haryana lie acres of fields that the local lord-of-all-he-surveys eyes greedily for industrial use. The problem is, those fields are fertile, which means the farmers don’t want to sign away their land. That lord is Mandola (Pankaj Kapoor), who is by turns a boorish, manipulative, abusive schemer or a gentle soul, kind employer and adoring father, all depending on whether he’s sobre or drunk. The possibilities here are endless. Add to the scenario Mandola’s feisty, phoren-returned daughter Bijlee (Anushka Sharma); his New Delhi-returned right-hand man Matru (Imran Khan) who is in love with Bijlee; the cold-hearted politician (Shabana Azmi) who plays footsie with Mandola; her often witless, always wicked son Baadal (Arya Babbar); and what you get is an array of eccentric characters played by an array of interesting actors, and a fertile playing field for Vishal Bhardwaj. 

Oddly though, Bhardwaj – one of Hindi cinema’s best directors today – takes the abundance of riches at his disposal and delivers an unfortunately inconsistent film. His screenplay co-written by Abhishek Chaubey maintains a deliberately bizarre tone that is hilarious in places and persistently over-the-top. But OTT, like coolth, is effective only if you don’t seem like you’re trying too hard, and too often it feels like MKBKM is trying way too hard. So yes, that pink buffalo is a killer, those gobar bombs are a hoot, there’s a delicious swipe at pretentious Communists stuck in a time warp … and Pankaj Kapoor sinks his teeth into the most well-fleshed-out character in the film, tears into it with his canines, chews it and chomps at it with obvious delight to deliver a darling performance. Nice touch too with the introduction of a group of fabulous Zulu dancers from South Africa and the casual mention that they were “purchased” without their knowledge. This is a film that not only cares about the rights of poor Indian farmers; it cares about the outside world too, which is rare for Bollywood. The choreography is a big plus. And while the music is not the best we’ve heard from Bhardwaj the composer, it’s enjoyable, especially the title track and the exuberant Oye boy oye boy Charlie.  

Yet it does not all come together into a cohesive whole. The problem primarily lies with the people around Mandola. Azmi is chilling in moments of undisguised malevolence, but strikes a discordant note with her farcical scenes. Khan is more convincing here than he’s been in the past, but is given more screen time than depth of character.

The most implausible of the players in this story though is Bijlee. No doubt there are women in rural India breaking norms, defying social convention and surviving against all odds. Yet anyone who knows Haryana would wonder at this fictional village where a female human – even if she’s the pardes-educated daughter of a millionaire – could casually wander around in public at all times of day in perennially shoulder-revealing attire, or emerge from a pond with her water-soaked blouse clinging to a tantalisingly red bra, without at least raising eyebrows if not being lynched. If it was Bhardwaj’s aim to be cheeky and ironical here, he does not pull it off. Sharma’s natural talent comes to the fore in the relationship with her father and in an outlandish drunken scene, but it’s clearly tough for her to rise above the uneven writing and direction at hand.

So there you have it … MKBKM’s effort to be joyously absurd is too obvious and the usually assured Bhardwaj seems to be playing fast and loose with the reins in his hands. That other Imran-starrer, 2011’s Delhi Belly, achieved the entertaining weirdness and delightful idiosyncrasy that this film seems to be aiming at, but Delhi Belly worked because it was uniform in its tone and not working so hard to impress. Sure it featured lots and lots of abuses and farts, but there was more to the film than just gas and gaalis. Yeah yeah it’s amusing that MKBKM’s Mandola says Pancho pancho as often as you and I might use the definite article, but there’s too much else that falls flat. From a usually non-sexist film maker, it’s also disappointing to catch a joke about an overweight woman and a bhains.

It’s mixed feelings then towards Vishal Bhardwaj’s Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola. On the one hand: Can this erratic film be from the genius who gave us Maqbool and Omkara?! On the other hand: thank you Mr Bhardwaj for giving Pankaj Kapoor such a vast canvas and the space to simply let go. To that I say, oye boy oye boy indeed!

PS: You know that Haryanvi ensemble Bijlee wears in the climax? I’m dying to add it to my wardrobe!

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	150 minutes

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

REVIEW 69: CHALA MUSSADDI OFFICE OFFICE

Release date:	August 5, 2011
Director:	Rajiv Mehra
Cast:	Pankaj Kapoor, Gaurav Kapur, Manoj Pahwa, Sanjay Mishra, Deven Bhojani, Hemant Pandey, Asawari Joshi, Mahesh Thakur

I guess Chala Mussaddi Office Office will work best for those who have been regular viewers of Office Office, the popular TV serial from which it is derived. But even if, like me, you’ve watched just a few episodes here and there, or you’ve not seen the show at all, it’s possible that – like me – you’ll have a nice time watching it.

The film is as simple as the serial … Mussaddi Lal Tripathi (Pankaj Kapoor) represents the common man who is constantly trapped in a web of bureaucratic corruption, red tapism, administrative sluggishness and all the other issues that the aam aadmi in India faces every day. The film begins with the death of Mussaddi’s wife. He goes off on a pilgrimage for the repose of her soul and to immerse her ashes in our holy waters. Mussaddi’s long absence from home results in him being declared dead in government files. Result: the stoppage of the pension due to him as a retired government teacher. Most of the film is spent on Mussaddi’s efforts to prove that he is alive.

It’s strange that this film has not been promoted at all by its producers, especially since its protagonist’s struggles are likely to find a resonance with all of us while the nation debates the Lokpal Bill. Mussaddi Lal is you and me. He is Everyman. He is the middle-class family of Dibakar Banerjee’s Khosla ka Ghosla whose land has been fake-sold by a crookish property dealer. He is the little old man who strips at a government office to shame an apathetic babu into action in Lage Raho Munna Bhai. And unlike the Common Man in A Wednesday, he is not playing disturbingly to the gallery by offering an anarchic but populist solution to our problems – he is simply sticking to the Gandhian dictum that stays on screen right through the end credits: “Corruption ought not to be an inevitable product of democracy. Be the change you want to see in the world.” Mussaddi Lal’s refusal to pay a bribe to get what is rightfully his may seem naïve to many, the film’s denouement could be viewed as simplistic, but it’s touching all the same!

Pankaj Kapoor as the central character has had years of practice playing the hapless citizen, but still knows how to pull at our heart strings. He is ably assisted by Gaurav Kapur in the role of his no-good son and the other members of the original serial’s five fixtures – Manoj Pahwa, Sanjay Mishra, Deven Bhojani, Hemant Pandey and Asawari Joshi – who play multiple parts in the film. Makrand Deshpande makes an appearance as a sort of wandering minstrel singing the film’s title song at regular intervals.

The strength of Chala Mussaddi, as in the case of the serial, is that its point is conveyed through humour with scenes and dialogues that are deliberately exaggerated yet not of the slapstick variety. Like the bribe-taking government official who says: “Hum sarkari karamchari hai, koi bimari thodi hai jo theek ho jaaye (We’re government servants, not some sort of disease that can be cured).” Like the student who pays lip service to customs but is too lazy to get up from his chair to touch his old teacher’s feet and so makes do with some long-distance paao chhoona.

Chala Mussaddi is not without its problems. Some of the jokes (especially the decidedly unfunny “do baate ho jaayegi” gag mouthed by Bhojani) get repetitive. Some (like the ones involving the pandits fleecing a man mourning his wife’s death) are not novel. And it’s irritating to see a lack of attention to detail that prompted the editor to splice together shots of Mussaddi and his son headed for the Pension Office on a scooter through a route that takes them past Connaught Place, then Red Fort, then back past Connaught Place and then past Red Fort again. That’s tacky. Still, this is a film with a heart and soul, a good cast and good intentions, a sense of humour and relevance to the times we live in! It’s not sock-you-in-the-stomach, punch-you-in-the-gut brilliant. But it’s nice.

Rating (out of five): **3/4

CBFC Rating:                       U without cuts

Running time:                        98 Minutes

Language:                              Hindi

Photograph courtesy: http://tinyurl.com/3ep5wfn (on Facebook)