REVIEW 181: EK THI DAAYAN

Release date:	April 19, 2013
Director:	Kannan Iyer
Cast: Language:	Emraan Hashmi, Vishesh Tiwari, Huma Qureshi, Konkona Sen Sharma, Kalki Koechlin, Pavan Malhotra, Rajatava Dutta, Bhavesh Balchandani Hindi

A supernatural thriller that spells out a completely logical explanation in black and white in its climax could be a bore. There are two other ways a film in the genre could work: either it could go all out and stubbornly refuse to offer or even suggest a rational clarification for the goings-on on screen; or it could leave enough room for us to read a logical explanation into the proceedings ourselves if we so choose. Full marks to debutant director Kannan Iyer for managing an uncommon blend of both in the pre-interval portion of Ek Thi Daayan. That he completely shuts out the possibility of a rationale in the last 15 minutes or so prevents this film from being as good as it could have been… but in the overall analysis, Ek Thi Daayan still has more scares and atmospherics than we’ve been getting in recent years from the cliché-ridden exponents of the horror/paranormal genre in Bollywood.

Daayan starts off with magician Bobo The Baffler on stage dazzling his audience. You’d think any kid christened Bobo by his parents is bound to be haunted by the name all his life. This Bobo is haunted instead by other things. He is tortured by childhood memories of a little sister and father he believes were killed by a witch.  Now as an adult, he is planning to adopt a child with his fiancé Tamara when those memories become more pronounced. Is he suffering from mental illness or do witches really exist? Was he simply a child with a fertile imagination or did he really see what we saw him see?  Questions… Questions… Questions…

The loveliest part of Ek Thi Daayan is the relationship between Bobo, his sister and widowed father. There is a particularly moving yet simple early scene in which the little girl matter-of-factly explains to her incredulous dad that she and Bobo took an elevator to hell which lies right beneath their building – the warmth and ease in their interaction is endearing beyond words. Of course, you tell yourself, when romance enters the father’s life it’s bound to cause some insecurity and jealousy in the children. It is these possibilities that keep the film intriguing and enjoyable for the most part despite an inconsistent screenplay. 

There are some niggling issues at the start though the first half of the film is written much better than the second half. For instance, I’d imagine a father who is so considerate towards his children would be a little more careful about the manner in which they discover his blossoming relationship with a new woman – this dad is not, nor does he make an iota of an effort to soften the blow when Bobo realises that he’s sleeping with the lady. Second, it grates the senses when details are treated lightly. Bobo’s opening act on stage has been shot at Kingdom of Dreams (KoD), a  glitzy world-class entertainment destination in Delhi’s suburbs; the venue is even identified as KoD; but for some inexplicable reason a dialogue that follows seconds later suggests that the place is in Mumbai. No idea why.

The stars of the film are its cinematography, art direction and low-key background score that conjure up an eerie sense of foreboding from Scene 1 minus any of the usual Bollywood horror film clichés of flying banshees, gore, white flowy garments, tantriks, padres, pandits or screeching sounds. Emraan Hashmi and child actor Vishesh Tiwari are amazingly consistent as the deeply disturbed Bobo of the present and the past.  Tiwari was part of the Chillar Party cast that won 2012’s National Award for Best Child Artiste. This film is proof that Chillar was no flash in the pan for him. Equally remarkable is the little girl who plays Bobo’s sister. Huma Qureshi as Bobo’s fiancé Tamara does not get a role as well-fleshed-out as she did in Gangs of Wasseypur 1&2 but she’s interesting all the same.

I have always loved Pavan Malhotra and Konkona Sen Sharma’s performances, but in that scene in which Bobo’s father (Malhotra) first begins to eye Diana (Sharma), he appears more lecherous than charmed. Sharma herself rolls her eyes in too exaggerated a fashion in at least a few places. On the other hand, there is Kalki Koechlin – the third female lead – displaying that natural ease before the camera that made her such a striking presence in Dev D. Her recent performances have tended to be one-toned but here, as she plays fast and loose with the audience (is she too a witch? is she not?) she reminds us of why she held out so much promise in her first film. I also love the way the director exploits her innocent smile and eyes to further the psychological games he is playing with us.

Now if only the screenplay hadn’t lost its way in the denouement, if only it hadn’t turned so ordinarily literal and hence silly right at the end, this could have been a very nice film.As things stands, it’s not  bad at all.  Hope to see you again soon, Kannan Iyer.

Rating (out of five): **9/10

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A
Running time:	134 minutes

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

REVIEW 180: NAUTANKI SAALA

Release date:	April 12, 2013
Director:	Rohan Sippy
Cast: Language:	Ayushmann Khurrana, Kunaal Roy Kapoor, Pooja Salvi, Evelyn Sharma, Gaelyn Mendonca, Sulbha Arya, Sanjeev Bhatt, Cameo: Abhishek Bachchan Hindi

This is an unusual Bollywood film. It’s quirky, funny, charming, unexpectedly experimental coming as it does from two mainstream production houses (T-Series Super Cassettes Industries and Ramesh Sippy Entertainment), brave in its interpretation of the Ramayan considering the penchant for violence of our Indian religious conservatives and – let me say it again – funny… Not in a Sajid Khan-Rohit Shetty kind of way. No no, this one’s a low-key, understated, soft and gentle version of humour.

Nautanki Saala is based on the French film Apres vous, neatly adapted to the Indian scenario by writers Nipun Dharmadhikari, Rohan Sippy and Charudutt Acharya. Ram Parmar a.k.a. RP (Ayushmann Khurrana) is the director of a play called Raavanleela running successfully in Mumbai. Ram plays Raavan in the play. We discover early on that the man has a habit of melodramatising everything in his life (hence the film’s title) while also making other people’s problems his own, which is how it comes about that he prevents the suicide of one Mandar Lele (Kunaal Roy Kapur) and casts him as Ram in his on-stage drama while developing a twisted sense of obligation towards the pathetic fellow off stage. Also in the picture are RP’s girlfriend Chitra (Gaelyn Mendonca), Mandar’s lady love Nandini (Pooja Salvi), the play’s Seeta (Evelyn Sharma), the play’s harassed producer Chandra Sir (Sanjeev Bhatt) and Nandini’s beefy boyfriend Lokesh Limaye (Rufy Khan). 

The film’s production values are excellent and there’s particular pleasure to be derived from visuals of Raavanleela’s lavish stage, glitzy green rooms and costumes. The casting is a big plus point. That Ayushmann Khurrana is talented was evident in his first film Vicky Donor; how talented becomes clear in Nautanki Saala as he switches from Raavan on stage to a much-in-love Ram off it, struggling to hide his feelings from everyone. Kunaal Roy Kapoor (the fartbag from Delhi Belly) is equally wonderful as miserable Mandar. The two play off each other really well. The pick of the supporting cast is the delightful Sanjeev Bhatt as Chandra Sir. His perennially theatrical demeanour and heavily accented south Indian Hindi are a hoot. Full marks to Bhatt and director Rohan Sippy for making the character so hilarious without once turning him into the nauseously caricaturish “Madrasi” of an earlier Bollywood era. In fact, despite the deliberately stage-like feel of the film, there are many points at which a lesser director may have gone overboard but Sippy does not, stopping in his tracks at precisely the right point, thus giving us real human beings instead of cartoons. Like the Malayali receptionist at a Mumbai hospital who speaks such heavily accented Hindi at such high speed that she needs a translator, and Mandar’s Maharashtrian Ajji (Sulbha Arya) who could have been an OTT representation of the community or old ladies, yet is not. It’s clear that trouble has been taken even in the casting of Raavanleela’s audience. That’s what you call finesse.

Of the three women in RP’s life, Gaelyn Mendonca playing Chitra stands out for her screen presence and acting. Do look out for a restaurant scene in which she’s feeling particularly affectionate towards her boyfriend. Evelyn Sharma has the smallest role of the three but makes it work, especially in that moment when she decides to woo her very own real-life Ram. Where the film falters is in the writing and casting of Nandini. Model-turned-debutant-actress Pooja Salvi is great looking, but does not have the charisma to convince us that not one, not two, but three men (I won’t tell you who) would be madly in love with her. Her acting can’t be faulted but there’s a missing X factor … perhaps she’ll acquire it by the by. Despite this, there’s nice chemistry on display in that first lingering kiss involving her and one of those three men.

The film’s music is a lovely blend of old Bollywood tracks and original numbers. Ayushmann seems to have particular good luck with Punjabi songs. After Paani da rang in Vicky Donor, here he composes (again with Rochak Kohli) and sings the lilting Saadi galli aaja. All the songs are woven well into the plot, though none more so than So gaya yeh jahaan reprised from Tezaab. Do stay back till the end of the closing credits or you’ll miss the three girls doing a Dil dhak dhak karne laga.

The first half of Nautanki Saala is the lighter half, filled with laughter drawn primarily from RP and Mandar’s interactions. The scene in which Mandar auditions for the role of Lord Ram is a killer. In the second half, just when it seems that the film is slowing down and may not have anything new to offer, the Ram-Sita-Hanuman-Raavan quartet on stage is juxtaposed with the real-life goings-on in RP’s life and there’s no looking back from there.

I’m no expert on other people’s opinions, but I suspect Nautanki Saala is a film that many people might consider “too slow” and others might deem “too arty”. A friend I met outside the preview theatre told me he couldn’t bring himself to sit through it. In the interests of full disclosure, you should know that I watched it twice before writing this review. The first time I was stuck at a meeting and ended up missing 19 minutes of the press preview, so of course I had to watch it a second time for a fair critique. That I sat through it till the very end even while re-watching the film (until the theatre abruptly cut off the end credits) should tell you just how much it worked for me. If “arty” can be this funny and this thought-provoking, bring it on!

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

CBFC Rating (India):	U/A (can’t figure out why this is not a U film)
Running time:	130 minutes

REVIEW 179: CHASHME BADDOOR

Release date:	April 5, 2013
Director:	David Dhawan
Cast: Language:	Ali Zafar, Siddharth, Divyendu Sharma, Taapsee Pannu, Anupam Kher, Bharati Achrekar, Rishi Kapoor, Lillette Dubey Hindi

There are two ways you can watch this film. You could either hark back to Sai Paranjpye’s Chashme Buddoor starring Farooque Shaikh and Deepti Naval, and feel traumatised that this remake is not a patch on the comparatively mellow drama of the original. Or you could forget that this is a remake, and take it for what it is: a flawed yet fun film and a vast improvement on the shrill, crude comedies we’re more used to getting from contemporary Bollywood.

Chashme Baddoor 2013 pretty much sticks to the plot of the original film. Jai and Omi are skirt-chasers who share a flat with their level-headed friend Sid. While pursuing a pretty girl called Seema, the two no-gooders are humiliated by her family. So when Sid and Seema fall in love, Jai and Omi plot to keep them apart. Hence the song: Har ek friend kamina hota hai.

Director David Dhawan won half his battle with this film when his casting director got Pakistani actor Ali Zafar, south Indian star Siddharth and the one-Bollywood-film-old Divyendu Sharma to play Sid, Jai and Omi respectively. The three have such a likeable screen presence that it becomes easier to forgive the film its many flaws. Besides, Zafar’s Hindi diction is so sexy that it makes you want to curse the asses who partitioned India in 1947. It helps that he’s cute as a button, as are his co-stars in a very relaxed, non-in-your-face, not-flashing-bulging-biceps-or-tiny-waistlines-at-us kind of way. Divyendu carries forward the smooth dialogue delivery that made him so noticeable in Pyaar ka Punchnama despite the misogyny that ruled that film. And Telugu-Tamil actress Taapsee Pannu is a pleasant presence as Seema who never once raises the decibel level of the film despite instances where a lesser actress might have done so.

Bringing up the rear are veteran Anupam Kher clearly having a lark in a double role as Seema’s Armyman dad and Army-hating uncle, with the ever-dependable Bharti Achrekar as their mother who’s prone to slapping annoying people. Rishi Kapoor plays local café owner Joseph, and Lillette Dubey is the boys’ landlady Miss Josephine. The two do their best despite the lackadaisical writing and direction of scenes in which they interact.

Which brings us to my big issue with Chashme Baddoor... Why do so many Bollywood comedy writers these days fill their pages with rhyming dialogues, puns and self-referential jokes? And by that I’m not referring to Omi’s shayari (which is enjoyably kitschy and tacky for the most part), but the manner in which Jai and Omi constantly rhyme their sentences even when Omi is not spouting poetry. They are not alone. Josephine, when told that Joseph is an alcoholic, says: Life mein hamara support mila toh woh alcohol ko deport kar dega. Noooooo!!!!! Talk about genre clichés … whether it’s Salman Khan in Ready or for that matter all the characters in most Dhawan, Anees Bazmee and Indra Kumar films these days, THEY’RE ALL RHYMING WORDS! Why?! Fortunately, these tedious patches are balanced out by many genuinely funny scenes, which makes Chashme Baddoor work overall for a tolerant person like me.

What’s not tolerable though are the ageist bits that can’t be excused simply because we’ve seen far worse from Bollywood. It’s not okay for a young man to refer to an old lady as a “khandahar”. It’s not okay either that Jai tells Seema’s grandmom: Marne ki umar chalee gayee lekin aap abhi bhi Queenfisher ki model lagti ho. There are also just too many songs unthinkingly inserted into the plot as though a pre-determined template demanded a song after every x minutes. Andha ghoda race mein dauda is decidedly dull, but compensation comes in the form of the light-hearted lyrics and melody of Dhichkyaoon dhum dhum, the peppy Har ek friend kamina hota hai and the retro mood of Uski aankhon mein toh saji hai madhusala.

The editor seems to have gone missing in certain scenes where awkward silences of a few seconds needed to be shaved off but weren’t, almost as though it wasn’t worth the effort. Arrey! Those not familiar with scenic Goa (where this film is set) may not be irked by this, but it annoyed me that characters seemingly living in Panaji were shown attending church services in Old Goa… a bit like showing residents of Mumbai’s Andheri buying daily groceries in Worli or CP residents in Delhi driving to Ghaziabad for a manicure. Were churches in Panaji unavailable for shooting? This spot of laziness and the lack of locational specificity in the film are exacerbated by memories of the charming referencing of Delhi in the 1981 Chashme Buddoor.

I guess since Dhawan wants us to ignore logic while watching his films, there’s no point asking why the boys in this Chashme Baddoor intermittently dish out imitations of legendary actors in passing or the reasoning behind the switch to a retro look in places. What the heck, since I enjoyed those parts (particularly Siddharth’s take on Amrish Puri’s voice) I won’t complain too much. So here’s the final word: Chashme Baddoor is not of an unequivocally hilarious standard like David Dhawan’s Govinda-starrer Hero No. 1 or the madcap Biwi No. 1 with Salman and Karisma; yet the director is in way better form here than in his more recent Govinda-starrer Do Knot Disturb which was so flat that it was tragic. True, Dhawan’s Chashme Baddoor is a far cry from Sai Paranjpye’s film, but when viewed in the context of contemporary Bollywood comedy, it must be said that it’s also a far cry from the offensiveness of Sajid Khan’s Housefull 2, the crassness of Sachin Yardi’s Kyaa Superkool Hain Hum, the loudness of Dhawan’s own Rascals and the unfunny-ness of Khan’s Himmatwala. Chashme Baddoor is a spot of mindless fun and for all its flaws, I had a good time watching it.

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

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

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chashme_Buddoor_(2012_film)