THE "COMEDY" OF ERRORS

                     

PHATA POSTER NIKHLA HERO

DIRECTOR : Rajkumar Santoshi

CAST : Shahid Kapoor, Ileana D'Cruz, Padmini Kolhapure, Saurabh Shukla

DURATION : 150 minutes

"PHATA POSTER NIKHLA HERO" is a movie of Bollywood, by Bollywood and for Bollywood. It contains all the formulaic notions of '70's film-making that endlessly repeat itself in one film after another. The typical hero/villain binary opposition, the 'angry young man' (or a punctured attempt to be one), ensuring that family values and the importance of the 'Maa' (mother) are all in place no matter what the script may/may not demand, endless songs popping out of thin air, a heroine in a decorative role (read, eye candy), and weepy melodrama and sentimentality in an attempt to garner appreciation from the viewers through emotionalism, if all else fails, and so on. Just in case this gives you the notion of it being a case of old wine in a new bottle, let me warn you thoroughly about the deceptiveness of that impression  In fact, the film draws so much from that particular era, that, I distinctly got the impression of a stale, shelved '70's film I was watching, where each moment gives you that 'been there, done that' sense of deja vu, - ideas which seem so chewed already that it renders them tasteless from start to finish.

Perhaps the most problematic element of the film itself, is it being billed as a comic caper. The most disappointing and upsetting thing about the film is, indeed, its comedy. Containing not even the slightest semblance of sense, the comedy is so silly, so slapstick and so lame that the last thing you would be compelled to do would be to laugh. Scene after scene passes by with apparent comic intentions, and not a muscle twitches. Rather, what it evokes, often, is a facial contortion of those muscles in disgust and dismay at the extent to which the intellect of the audience is underestimated at each step.

The strangest bit about the film (and this is the first of its kind that I have come across)  is how the absence of the comedy, comic scenes could have done wonders to the script, saving it from being a complete washout at the box office and in the eyes of the audience. I would like to qualify 'wonders' here, with my use of it being not to say that the film is devoid of any falterings in logical terms of the plot. Each comic scene is so contrived, badly constructed and poorly conceived that it inevitably leads the film to degenerate in the views of the audience. So bad that even tickling you would not even bring as much as a smile to your face (nothing apart from a groan actually). But if you just drain the script of the 'comic' material, the film can actually stand as relatively more sensible and on a firmer ground. Comedy, in this film, becomes not only an appendage, but a large setback to the film itself, which instead of helping it, proves a detriment to its progress and success, both in terms of likeability and entertainment value.

The other aspects of the film are also not particularly encouraging, either. The script has numerous loopholes, ranging from the exceedingly obvious and coincidental, where the slapstick comedy reaches a peak with a thief slipping and falling due to a banana peel, which makes a hero out of another; bombs that can be defused at the press of a button, and a man who is not a cop, but can single-handedly tackle a huge bunch of men, succeeding perfectly in defeating all. Many more follow throughout. The performances are hardly much, either. Vishwas Rao (Shahid) is actually quite good in the emotional and sentimental, dramatic scenes, but hopelessly bad in the comic ones. Thus, blame the script, yes, but not the script alone for that. Kajal (Ileana), too, is horrible in the comic scenes, but somewhat bearable in the others. She only functions as an object to be gazed at, with no impact or importance whatsoever. Its time people accept the fact that comedy is an art, and not everybody's forte. Saurabh Shukla as the gang leader, puts in one of his most average performances. The only performance worth noting is put in by none other than Maa (Padmini Kolhapure) who puts in a serious and moderated, well balanced and appropriate performance, perfectly playing her role in the best manner possible. Pritam's music is very very dull, and the songs leave no impact whatsoever after popping up from nowhere. "Mai rang sharbaton ka" is the only noteworthy track, and the Nargis Fakhri item number, "Dhating naach" is catchy, but these are the only two which leave any mark, during and after the film is over.

This movie is of the kind where you realize that the lack is in the amount of thought put in behind the film itself. It is almost as if the movie has been made simply for the sake of it. I do not know as to what may have been his stake in it, but director Rajkumar Santoshi, who has made commercially viable, yet sensible cinema earlier, like "Damini", "Lajja", and "Halla Bol", now seems to have lost his touch. There are too many resonances of the film's possible prequel, "Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahaani", but this sequel isn't even a patch on that in terms of music, comedy or performances, and hence, entertainment as a whole.

This is typically that kind of film that draws from the sterotypical figure of the starstruck Indian fan, and hero-worship in our country, where leaving aside possibility and rationality, so many young people aspire to be actors bin the film industry. Here it is about exploring the likes of Salman Khan, Dev Anand and Amitabh Bachchan ("Deewaar"), drawing from them directly. However, even that does not account for its appeal, and hence, success, as the essential premise is so flawed at each point that the comedy that could have arisen had all been well, is undercut and undermined, rendering it a silly and laborious experience for the viewer. Coupled with that is practically the sole success formula for Bollywood : if nothing works in a script of a comedy, confusion and misunderstandings certainly will. Add to that a silly comic plot with all its paraphernalia, and stale notions of heroism, and what you have is this. If truly, the movie is all about jokes, laughs and deflation through comedy, you will soon be asking 'who' the joke is truly on, who is it that has a good laugh on 'whom' and 'who' is it that gets deflated in the process.

The answer is exceedingly evident, if  you haven't guessed already. 

CAREFULLY CRAFTED INSATIABLE MEAL

THE LUNCHBOX

DIRECTOR: Ritesh Batra

CAST: Irrfan Khan, Nimrat Kaur, Nawazuddin Siddiqui

DURATION: 104 minutes

"THE LUNCHBOX"  tells a tale of interesting equations existing between people in the society of a metropolis.  Like many other films commonly dished out by the industry every year, it revolves on the idea of relationships. However, any such film on subjects likewise, makes viewers expect an arty feel with deep and profound thoughts and moments of large pauses and silences, where the viewer is urged to fill in his interpretations in the deliberate gaps in the narration.

Fortunately or unfortunately, this is that rare multiplex movie, which does all this, but in the most deviant way as is possible. Not even at one point does the film get preachy or deep to the extent of leaving matters ambiguous for the viewer. Things take their own time to unfold, and points in the narrative may seem fragmented in terms of the plot, but a little bit of patience will indeed take you a long way. You will certainly need an observer's eye for detail to catch the tying of the incomplete and loose ends on a periodic basis. That notwithstanding, the film serves as a perfectly fulfilling watch as we see the tale unfold sequentially and in linear fashion, making it different from such kinds of films that are intellectually and psychologically so demanding that the task of deciphering takes a toll on the audience's mind, to the extent of making it a laborious and arduous watch from start to finish.

In keeping with my point about the 'pleasure principle' as required essentially in our cinematic experience, director Ritesh Batra scores a point above most such lesser known filmmakers catering to a niche 'film festival' audience, whose films often sink without traces on grounds of intended obscurity and complex incomprehensibility. So clearly and lucidly told, what the film leaves unsaid is through its representations and use of symbolism. The individual interpretative ability is not exploited at the level of plot, but at the level of perception and communication, and here, the director leaves it to the viewer to absorb and comprehend, to each according to his ability. This struck me as unique, very well thought of, and impressed me, besides much much more. 

The primary thrust of the narrative focuses on an epistolary romance nurtured gradually and subtly between a greying widower, Mr. Fernandes (Irrfan) moving towards retirement, not only from his job, but also from life, generally; and a housewife, Ila (Nimrat) trapped in a loveless marriage, without any escape route. The route to the man's heart being through his stomach, as commonly known, Ila does all possible to salvage her hopelessly barren married life; the lunchbox possibly the last resort to make it possible. The displacement of her designs is what drives the plot, and what unfolds is a series of repeated scenes, in the same setting, which though strangely predictable, each time, has something new and unexpected in its intent to offer.

 The film transcends the ordinariness of not only the story, and the main characters contained in it, but also its setting and action through the portrayals of several characters intertwined rather marginally in the plot, and uses it to give us perspectives on love and life, conjugality and companionship, freedom and fulfillment. Parallel stories are woven into the plot, which not only support and extend the main, but also add and extend our takes on the central themes of the film, though the ability to interpret and connect these to the main body of the protagonists' tale is left entirely to the individual viewer.  Irrfan and his counterpart play their roles perfectly, flashing suitably correct expressions at correct times; and Nawazuddin is a delight to watch with his comic timing and simplicity, honesty as a character. Portrayed beautifully, the film is a slice of urban life, with each morsel packing in so much more than just a visual treat into an Epicurean paradise. A tribute to the famous 'dabbawallahs' of Mumbai, each frame is carefully done to leave you yearning for more, seeking a kind of completeness and closure, which is initially seemingly apparent, but never arrives. The logical conclusion is evaded after raising expectations to a crescendo, and that sense of what simply could have been, but never came, prevails even as you leave the theater. This is one large meal, carefully cooked and eaten hungrily, but never completely ingested.  A no-frills treatment and a careful portraiture of expressions, this lunchbox will open out a new flavor scene after scene, but never satisfy your appetite.