REVIEW 757: DABANGG 3

Release date:	December 20, 2019
Director:	Prabhudeva
Cast:	Salman Khan, Saiee Manjrekar, Sudeep, Sonakshi Sinha, Arbaaz Khan, Dimple Kapadia, Pramod Khanna, Mahesh Manjrekar, Rajesh Sharma, Sharat Saxena
Language:	Hindi

Early in Dabangg 3, Salman Khan’s character is chatting with his subordinates when he makes what may seem like a throwaway remark, “...hum class aur mass, dono ke liye kaam karte hai” (I work for the classes and the masses). Since “class” and “mass” are words used by the Hindi film industry to informally categorise sections of the audience, this is obviously more than just a casual comment – it is an allusion to Khan’s success across social strata since he turned out the blockbuster Wanted in 2009. 

The effort to retain his cross-sectional appeal is evident throughout this dated, dull and clichéd film, which is what makes it such a mish-mash of conservatism and liberalism, almost amusing in its confusion. 

Dabangg 3 marks Khan’s third screen outing as Chulbul Pandey, the comic-serious policeman who has no qualms about circumventing the law to serve the common people. In keeping I suppose with Hollywood’s trend of serving us origin stories of superheroes, this Bollywood venture is about how a useless, purposeless fellow called Chulbul became the chap we now know him to be: a destroyer of evil who is ever ready with a self-deprecating joke or gesture. By Film 3, he is the ASP of Tundla, still married to Rajjo (Sonakshi Sinha), a father, and up against a human trafficking don called Bali Singh played by Kannada star Kichcha Sudeep (his name is spelt as Sudeepa here).

The writers’ please-all aim in Dabangg 3 leads to many scenes of unwitting irony. Such as when Chulbul speaks of respect for women and gets furious at men who refer to women as “maal” just moments after he is shown dancing to the song Jumme ki raat from the 2014 hit Kick in which Khan’s own character had picked up Jacqueline Fernandez’s skirt with his teeth without her knowledge and followed her while dancing. Then there is Chulbul taking a purportedly feminist stand on dowry and women’s education even as he describes himself as the “rakhwaala” (keeper) of a woman he intends to marry. The self-consciousness and duality of his liberalism become exhausting to watch after a while.

Equally exhausting are the rusty dialogues filled with rhymes, many failed shots at clever wordplay, some scenes of double entendre and others of downright crudeness. 

Sample: Chulbul saying, “Hum unhi ko tthokte hai jo zaroorat se zyaada bhokte hai” (I only bump off those who bark too much). 

Sample: Rajjo telling her husband, “hamare petticoat mein chhed mat karna” (please do not pierce a hole in my petticoat) when he snatches it away from someone who was fitting a drawstring in it, at which point hubby eyes her suggestively.

Sample: a random character who randomly enters a toilet where Chulbul’s brother is doing potty, at which point we are subjected to gurgling potty sounds.   

Sample: Chulbul impaling his butt on a nail.

Sample: a bad guy’s crotch falling on a dagger.

Sample: Chulbul dropping his pants by mistake when he takes off his belt to whip someone. 

Sample: Chulbul shooting a junior who asks how he can get a promotion. I am not kidding – Chulbul actually fires a gun at his colleague in this scene.  

All these scenes are designed to elicit laughs.  

And then there are lines like this that are no doubt meant to sound smart but do not: Chulbul saying, “Ek hota hai policewala aur ek hota hai goonda, hum kehlate hai policewala goonda” (there are policemen and there are hooligans, and then there are those like me who are police and hooligan combined).  

The story is not even worth recounting. It feels like a bunch of disparate ingredients hurriedly thrown together in a cooking pot. So does the music by Sajid-Wajid who have in the past created so many memorable tunes for Salman Khan starrers. Here they first recycle the Dabangg title track, then deliver two numbers that sound like first cousins of Tere mast mast do nain from Dabangg, one terribly boring song in which Chulbul romances Rajjo and – c’mooon, they’re not even trying – Munna badnaam hua.  

The SFX are bad. Even the choreography has nothing new to offer, which is odd since the ace choreographer-cum-dancer Prabhudeva has directed this film.  

As far as acting goes, Khan’s charm wears thin as he tries hard to resurrect that unusual blend of gravitas and humour that worked so well in Dabangg in 2010. Here he comes across as almost embarrassingly juvenile.  

Sinha has little to do but pout and look pretty. Her Rajjo is even thrown up in the air by a massive explosion that somehow leaves her makeup completely unscathed. Why is this talented women wasting herself so?  

An unimpressive newcomer called Saiee Manjrekar gets a large supporting role to which she lends nothing but her smooth complexion and lovely figure. The rest of the cast hams shamelessly.  

Anyone who has seen Sudeep in his Kannada films knows that he has the charisma to match Salman, but he does not stand a chance here in Dabangg 3 in the face of a sketchily written character which does little but showcase his towering physique.  

There is so much tomfoolery and immaturity in this film  that the climactic fight sequence comes as a shock. It is so grossly violent and in-your-face that I could barely bring myself to look at the screen. (And of course because it is a masala film by a commercially focused director with a major male star as the lead, it has been given a UA rating instead of the strict A it deserves.)  

And no guys, it is no longer entertaining when two male actors with fabulous bodies take off their shirts for no reason to engage in fisticuffs. This was a fun device when it was first introduced, especially because for decades before that, male stars had been completely careless about their bodies and it was assumed by both the industry and audiences that only women can and should be objectified. Now though, it is a boring formula. Gentlemen, we love the fact that you work out, so get your scriptwriters to find a more imaginative way now to let you display your sexy torsos, please?  

Somewhere in the middle of Dabangg 3, Rajjo tells Chulbul that she will never again force him to take a ’70s-’80s style kasam (oath). Never mind the context. I do wish Bollywood would take a kasam here and now to lay Chulbul Pandey a.k.a. Robinhood Pandey to rest.  

Rating (out of 5 stars): 1.5

CBFC Rating (India):	UA
Running time:	163 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost:

https://www.firstpost.com/entertainment/dabangg-3-movie-review-salman-khans-chulbul-pandey-is-no-longer-charming-or-funny-r-i-p-please-robinhood-7807661.html

Posters courtesy:

https://www.facebook.com/pg/Dabangg3ThisChristmas/

VIDEO REVIEWS: SYERAA NARASIMHA REDDY (TELUGU) & ASURAN (TAMIL)

(These are transcripts of Anna M.M. Vetticad’s video reviews aired on Rajya Sabha TV on October 13, 2019.)

Hello everyone, today I’m reviewing two films that are complete contrasts in terms of content and storytelling style. Both are big star vehicles though.

First, Syeraa Narasimha Reddy in which Telugu superstar Chiranjeevi plays Uyyalawada Narasimha Reddy who led an uprising against the British East India Company in the mid 1800s. This was before the 1857 revolt. To emphasise this point, his story is recounted here by Rani Laxmibai of Jhansi in a speech with which she hopes to inspire HER men to fight the British. 

In flashback form, Laxmibai takes us through the life of Syeraa Narasimha Reddy, one among several once-powerful rulers in the Telugu heartland who are being stripped of their power by the British. 

The common people are reeling under the back-breaking taxation policies of the British, when the hero sets out to unite his fellow rulers and the farmers against these foreigners.

Woven into the narrative is also his romance with the classical dancer Lakshmi, his relationship with his wife, song and dance routines shot on a gigantic scale, and endless action scenes. 

What is nice about Syeraa Narasimha Reddy is that it tells the story of an anti-British rebellion from southern India. The popular discourse in large parts of India tends to focus on the contributions and achievements of North Indians, not just in India’s freedom struggle but in all matters. In this context, Syeraa Narasimha Reddy is significant. But it squanders away that plus point with the WAY it tells its story.

As it turns out, the primary goal of this film is to underline Chiranjeevi’s star stature. More effort has been invested in creating a spectacle rather than in writing in-depth characters. Reddy is built up as a saintly He Man with superhuman strength and yogic powers. He is projected as SO INVINCIBLE, that his ultimate defeat seems unconvincing even though it is spelt out as a historical fact. 

To give the film scale, Chiranjeevi is surrounded by multiple major stars from Tamannaah to Nayanthara, Sudeep, Vijay Sethupathi, Amitabh Bachchan, Anushka Shetty and ... well, the list is long. Except for Tamannaah and Bachchan to some extent, the others are given short shrift by the screenplay.

This story has huge potential for social insights, but director Surender Reddy is too busy lionising Syeraa Narasimha Reddy and Chiranjeevi. Therefore the film offers us little understanding of the class and caste struggles involved. Realism and facts are not a priority in this revisionist historical drama.

As far as technical aspects go, the lavish production design and costumes are eye-catching, but the special effects are of confusing quality. Some night-time scenes are wonderfully impressive, but some scenes are surprisingly mediocre. The SFX in that long passage involving bulls, for instance, is embarrassingly tacky. 

The overall tone of the narrative is loud, rubbing every point, every message in our faces. 

For hard-core Chiranjeevi fans, perhaps there is some pay off here since their favourite star dominates the film in a role designed to overshadow all else on screen. That apart, Syeraa Narasimha Reddy is a generic, uninspiring film that lacks soul.

**** ****

Now on to writer-director Vetrimaaran’s Asuran.

From the moment he grabbed the spotlight with Aadukalam early this decade, Vetrimaaran has made his own road. With Asuran he offers a stellar redefinition of Big Cinema in the Indian context. 

There is a tendency in our country to assume that if a film revolves around caste or exploitation of any form, then it cannot take on the trappings that give mainstream Indian cinema its larger-than-life feel. With Asuran, Vetrimaaran walks a fine line to ensure that his hero is projected as a giant among men without trivialising the struggles of a marginalised community or making him appear so unconquerable that his defeats become hard to swallow. 

Dhanush plays Sivasamy whose impoverished family is engaged in a feud with a powerful land-owning family in the area. Initially, Sivasamy comes across as a pacifist. His sons are frustrated with his keenness to avoid violence. Later though, he introduces us to his defiant past and the havoc his defiance wreaked on those around him. 

Dhanush’s remarkable physical transformation is not the only indicator of the passage of time in Asuran. His is a richly detailed character that evolves too as the story runs along. Even when he metamorphoses into a roaring lion on screen, his brilliant acting, the direction and the writing ensure that he remains believable. 

Although Sivasamy is the central figure, the screenplay works hard to develop the characters of his wife Pachiammal, two sons, brother-in-law and antagonists. The excellent supporting cast does full justice to the writing. But none of the stars overshadows the film’s story or messaging. 

Malayalam superstar Manju Warrier in particular deserves to be singled out for her deeply felt, relatable performance as Pachiammal in a film that marks her Tamil debut. She is so good, that you have to wonder why even progressive filmmakers like Vetrimaaran tend to think in terms of male-centric stories. 

That said, Asuran uses a conventional genre – the male-centric action drama – to tell an unconventional story. 

It is violent, but it does not endorse violence. 

It uses episodes of loudness to take us to a point of stillness and calm. 

In short, Asuran is lovely.

**** ****

Link to the video of these reviews aired on Rajya Sabha TV:

https://youtu.be/pSOv1xEiXcw

Photographs courtesy:

(1)    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sye_Raa_Narasimha_Reddy

(2)    https://www.facebook.com/DhanushKRaja/