REVIEW 339: GUDDU RANGEELA

Release date:	July 3, 2015
Director:	Subhash Kapoor
Cast: Language:	Arshad Warsi, Amit Sadh, Aditi Rao Hydari, Ronit Roy, Rajeev Gupta, Dibyendu Bhattacharya, Amit Sial, Brijendra Kala, Sree Swara Dubey, Achint Kaur    Hindi

Last week’s release Miss Tanakpur Haazir Ho struggled to tell a serious story through the medium of comedy. The director of that film would be well advised to watch Guddu Rangeela. This week’s big release is a satirical thriller and consequently a roller-coaster of sorts, swinging from laughter to tears to hope to laughter to heartbreak to seething rage and then back to laughter again, unobjectionable for the most part, and largely staying focused on its central theme: the stranglehold that khap panchayats have on rural societies and state-level politics in Haryana.

For that feat alone it is worth watching.

That’s not all. Among the other reasons that make Guddu Rangeela supremely watchable, there is Arshad Warsi, an actor so charming, so likeable and so natural before the camera that his mere presence on screen is worth the price of a ticket even for a bad film (which this one is not).

Arshad here plays a small-time singer whose stage shows are a front for his work as a small-time crook. Rangeela’s partner in crime is his much younger brother Guddu (Amit Sadh). Their bête noir is the local politician Billu Pehelwan (Ronit Roy). The three get embroiled in a kidnapping that involves a teacher called Baby (Aditi Rao Hydari), a goon called Gora Bangali (Dibyendu Bhattacharya) and the caretaker of a bungalow in Shimla (Brijendra Kala).

Director Subhash Kapoor is credited with Guddu Rangeela’s story, screenplay and dialogues. He has a smooth storytelling style. Satire is his MO as we already know from Phas Gaye Re Obama and Jolly LLB. And he has a feel for the real India, which was most evident in Jolly LLB’s small-town courtroom shorn of all the glamour, bombast and cliched posturing that mainstream Bollywood has lent to the Indian judiciary. There was no “dhaai kilo ka haath” in sight there; only fumbling lawyers, a judge who would not stop eating and Arshad’s warm smile.

If only Subhash had stuck to his strengths – humour and realism – Guddu Rangeela would have been a flawlessly smooth ride. Sadly, he occasionally dilutes the film’s impact with elements that don’t fit the overall tone. For instance, the two romantic songs thrust into the proceedings, one per woman in the lead cast as if that’s a mandatory requirement. I’m not campaigning here for a songless Bollywood, but for songs suited to the narrative, like the hilarious “mowdern” bhajan Maata ka email that Rangeela sings at the start and the delightfully kitschy title track.

The humour in Guddu Rangeela is harmless, with one exception. It is unlikely that if a woman in the film had been raped, we would have been given a scene featuring her friends laughing at her wounded vagina. Why then is it okay to make a joke about a man who has been similarly violated? I understand what the director was trying to do there – he was showing us friends trying to lighten the mood around a man in agony. It might have been a good idea to devote more thought to that situation though, considering that the real world too tends to react with amusement when confronted with the reality of sexual assault on men. That scene is a marked contrast to the inoffensive nature of the rest of the film about which the worst thing that can be said is that it ends with a sexist joke about ghosts and wives already publicised in a trailer.

It’s also hard to understand the compulsion to serve up a love story whenever a woman is  around. It’s as if a female presence must be justified with a romantic angle. The liaison between Guddu and Baby here is incongruous and contrived, since there’s little chemistry between them, they barely speak, they have nothing in common and nothing can explain the ‘relationship’ that blossoms apart from an assumption some people seem to make that when a physically attractive human male and female are in the same frame, lowwwe is inevitable. Fact: it is not.

Far more interesting is the chemistry between Arshad and Amit. Rangeela and Guddu are sweetly in sync and well-suited to the older man-younger man bonding at the heart of the story.

The two of them and other motifs scattered through the film are deliberately designed to be reminiscent of Jai and Veeru in Sholay. The motorbike with the sidecar, the background score and the long-drawn-out climactic aerial shot of the dustbowl that is the Haryana countryside – it’s both amusing and endearing to see the film maker’s ode to one of the greatest Indian gangster films ever made, considering the contrasting tenor of the two films.

A word here about Amit... No actually he merits a paragraph. In a journey that has included TV, the small part a journalist in Maximum (2011) and one of the leads in Kai Po Che (2013), this young actor has displayed potential worth watching out for. In the mildly crude, buffoonish Guddu, it is impossible to spot the sedate Omi from Kai Po Che. Here’s looking at you, kid!

The scene-stealer among the supporting cast is Rajeev Gupta who was so impactful in tiny roles in the Saheb Biwi aur Gangster films that it’s hard to understand why we don’t see more of him in Bollywood. Ditto for Sree Swara Dubey whose charisma was memorable in a brief appearance in D-Day (2013). She is noticeable here even in a fleeting role. He is a hoot as the corrupt cop Gulab Singh, delivering the world’s funniest Antakshari scene in partnership with Amit.

Aditi Rao Hydari is the only one who looks lost. Brijendra Kala delivers a pleasant change from the comical bit part player he has been in too many films. And Ronit Roy is suitably menacing.

For the most part then, Guddu Rangeela remains engaging because of the balancing act it achieves between its grim subject and its light touch. It also repeatedly throws up twists when you are not looking for any. This continues until the plot becomes a stretch towards the end, right from the point when a woman delivers a feminist sermon to a murderous panchayat – so believable, na? Then it turns out that Guddu and Rangeela’s seemingly  grand scheme to corner Billu Pehelwan had feet of clay. And oh yes, their accomplices turn up to support them in a shootout in the end, but we get no inkling of how they figured out where the two would be.

All complaints about Guddu Rangeela though are overshadowed by what’s worth recommending in it. Even when the film flounders, Arshad and Amit remain immensely watchable. Rangeela and Guddu never fail to elicit laughs or tug at the heart strings although, as the title track tells us, “Dono pakke ddheet hain / Aansu peete neat hain…” Such likeable rascals, those two!

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	124 minutes

Photograph courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guddu_Rangeela

176: JOLLY LLB

Release date:	March 15, 2013
Director:	Subhash Kapoor
Cast: Language:	Arshad Warsi, Boman Irani, Amrita Rao, Saurabh Shukla, Mohan Agashe, Mohan Kapoor, Vibha Chhibber, Sanjai Mishra, Manoj Pahwa, Harsh Chhaya, Ramesh Deo Hindi

Jolly LLB is no Munnabhai MBBS.

No seriously, it’s not! It’s surprising how many people have assumed that Jolly LLB is a Munnabhai wannabe, possibly because it contains a degree in the title, stars Munnabhai cast members Arshad Warsi and Boman Irani, and is directed by Subhash Kapoor who has bagged the next Munna project. Well, the commonalities end there. Jolly LLB is neither an out-and-out comedy like the two hugely successful Munnabhai films, nor does it have any pretensions to their scale and gloss. It’s the small, sweet, funny-yet-sad-and-moving, very believable story of struggling lawyer Jagdish Tyagi a.k.a. Jolly (Arshad Warsi) who shifts from Meerut to Delhi in search of greener pastures and greatness. In the Capital, Jolly meets hot-shot lawyer Rajpal (Boman Irani). When Jolly gets involved in the case of a millionaire drunk driver and some dead pavement dwellers, he is pitted against this Goliath of the legal community in one of the country’s most high-profile cases.

Courtroom dramas are rare in Bollywood and when legal proceedings do feature in Hindi films, they tend to be melodramatic and cliched, albeit in a wolf-whistle-worthy way. Jolly LLB is unusual for Bollywood because most of the action takes place in a court complex. And if you’ve ever been to Indian courts, you will agree that the District & Sessions Court in Jolly is far more credible than what we’re used to seeing in Hindi films. There is no speech-making here, except when the lawyers make their closing arguments. The formal language is missing, as is much of the infrastructure. Jolly can barely spell and is clearly not fully acquainted with all aspects of the law. Nor does he get to spout dialogues of the “tareekh pe tareekh” variety from Damini, designed to draw applause and cat calls. Yet when he does make his final address to the judge, it’s hard not to get teary-eyed because it all feels so darned real.

Much of this has to do with the writing and direction by Subhash Kapoor. Unlike his earlier film Phas Gaye Re Obama which petered out in the second half, Kapoor maintains a momentum throughout Jolly LLB. His characters, right down to the ones who barely get to speak, are interesting and memorable. The bigger point being made is about corruption in the Indian judiciary and police, but we’re also given a close look at the desolate conditions in which most lawyers function (in Jolly’s part of the world, even a chamber is a distant dream, and those who aspire to get there must secure their pathetic open-air ‘offices’ – table, chair, metal box – with lock and chain). The many asides in the court scenario in Jolly LLB are utterly, completely delightful (my favourite is the judge who sends off a love SMS just before a hearing begins). The humour is understated and effective (except in one scene where a constable auctions an SHO’s post, which starts out as rather amusing but then feels like it’s trying too hard, unlike the rest of the film). Kapoor is also not afraid to deliver to us a flawed hero whose initial motivation to take up the cause of the pavement dwellers is the potential media attention. What’s equally interesting is that it’s possible, just possible, that Jolly’s motivations remain unchanged even in the end though his methods change.

The always superb Arshad Warsi as Jolly switches between good, bad and gray, naïve and dogged with the consummate ease that only an actor of his calibre can achieve. Amrita Rao as his quietly firm and morally upright girlfriend Sandhya, and Boman Irani as the pompous, ruthless Rajpal are both equally remarkable in their roles. Other wonderful talents pop up to play cameos (including Marathi & Hindi veteran Ramesh Deo). But the highlight of the entire film is Saurabh Shukla’s Judge Tripathi … For too long has this actor been saddled with the same old gangster or cop roles where his physicality predominated his performances. Here in Jolly LLB he’s a slimy, smarmy chap yet it’s hard not to be drawn to this man of dubious integrity even when he farts and openly asks for a bribe and runs his courtroom like a personal fiefdom. Brilliant, Your Honour! Just brilliant!

There’s so much to praise in Jolly LLB that it feels bad to draw attention to the film’s failings which are, unfortunately, too major to be wished away. Warsi – wonderful actor though he is – seems to be playing a character about 20 years younger than his real-life age: can’t understand why some minor tweaking of the screenplay couldn’t have ironed out this problem. Ah well, this is such a common issue with Bollywood films that old habits could close our eyes to it. How, though, can we possibly pretend that we didn’t hear the film’s music? It’s bad enough that composer Krsna has churned out such mediocre melodies for Jolly LLB; what’s worse is that the songs pop up at the most inopportune moments, none more so than the David-versus-Goliath gung-ho number right at the end that almost kills the poignant mood the final courtroom scene leaves us with. If I’d been warned, I would have walked out the second the end credits started rolling. Still, Subhash Kapoor deserves to get off with a light sentence for those grouses … because in the overall analysis, Jolly LLB is a simple-though-layered, loveable film.

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	131 minutes

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

175: SAARE JAHAAN SE MEHNGA

Release date:	March 8, 2013
Director:	Anshul Sharma
Cast: Language:	Sanjai Mishra, Pragati Pandey, Vishwa Mohan Bhadola, Zakir Hussain, Ranjan Chhabra, Disha Pandey Hindi

Endearing concept, nice cast, lead characters that feel so real, the genuine atmosphere of a small town in a film set in a small town … there’s a lot going for Saare Jahaan Se Mehnga. Where the film falters and fizzles out is in its inability to go beyond an enjoyable first half or rise above a unique premise, to be a well-rounded satire. Still, while the going’s good it’s worth a watch.

Saare Jahaan Se Mehnga is set in Sonepat in Haryana, where Puttanpal and his wife struggle to make ends meet in the face of back-breaking inflation. He is a government-employed cattle breeder, she runs a beauty parlour in the house. Both incomes combined are not sufficient to keep the kitchen running in a household that also includes a forever-crabby old father and an unemployed younger brother. Matters take an interesting turn when Puttanpal arrives at an idea to beat inflation: he takes a 3-year interest-free loan under a new government scheme to start a shop, but uses the money instead to hoard much-needed household supplies for 3 years.

So far so good. It’s a joy to see comedian Sanjai Mishra being given a role that, for a change, does not require him to be an over-the-top laugh monger … this is a genuinely talented actor who has been repeating himself in some of his recent films, saddled as he has been with repetitive roles. Pragati Pandey (playing Puttanpal’s wife Noori) is unbelievably believable, and scenes of her with clients at Noori Beauty Parlour are among the best written in the film – hilarious and yet so poignant. The relationship of complete understanding between Puttanpal and Noori is very moving. Writers Rupesh Thapliyal and Vijay Manral are in fine fettle up to this point. Another evocative angle is added to the story in the form of Puttanpal’s father – played convincingly by Vishwa Mohan Bhadola – as the old man who fails to realise the pressure he’s placing on his son with his perennial cribbing. And actor Zakir Hussain as a loan inspector is his usual reliable self.

So why doesn’t the film work all the way? Well, firstly, Puttanpal and Noori may be simple, but they’re not stupid, yet it doesn’t occur to either of them (or any character in the film) to wonder how perishable food items are expected to last for 3 full years. Slight problem, no? Even if you do grant the writers this oversight, it’s hard to accept the lack of depth in the relationship between Gopal and his girlfriend Suman (Disha Pandey) and sadder still, the writers’ inability to come up with new ideas as the film rolls along. So okay, the pre-interval portion is fun and telling, but with nothing fresh coming up post interval it’s hard to swallow the over-dramatised final scene in which Puttanpal delivers a long long lecture about inflation and the film takes the populist stance of actually endorsing corruption among members of the public in response to corruption among the political class and inflation. Wonder how Victor Hugo would have wrapped up this story.

Producers Revel Films had earlier given us 2010’s Phas Gaye Re Obama, a tragi-comic comment on the global recession. That film suffered from the same weakness that plagues Saare Jahaan Se Mehnga: lovely concept, excellent execution at the start but a second half that feels stretched once the novelty wears off. SJSM is skating on even thinner ice. Whoever said “well begun is half done” forgot to add that half done still means another halfway to go, and Saare Jahaan Se Mehnga doesn’t manage that journey. This is a sweet film, but it should have been so much more.

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

Photograph courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/SaareJahaanSeMehnga?fref=ts