The 80s Are Back(stabbed)

The film opens with the disco number Thank God It's Friday with Sonakshi Sinha doing her best to appear graceful. Sajid Khan's inability as a director to introduce the time period in which his film is set, couldn't be more visibly stated. And five minutes after the shabbily choreographed dance sequence turns into a street fight, the film fails in recreating the 80s, like the promos promised.

Ajay Devgn is Ravi, the Himmatwala, who is the strongest man in the universe, which is established by his fight with Russia's strongest street fighter -- a feat that even Rocky Balboa required 12 hard-fought rounds to achieve. 

Then, Ravi returns to his village where he reunites with his family and revisits the old wounds and the atrocities that his family faced at the hands of the evil sarpanch Sher Singh (Mahesh Manjrekar); quite similar to Vijay Dinanath Chauhan's return to Mandwa, only more pathetic. And then, with one insignificant twist in the tale, the story unfolds just like it did 30 years ago with Jeetendra and Sridevi.

In a superficial effort to recreate the 80s, Sajid uses the hyper-reality which was an involuntary reflex back then; but ends up making a mockery of everything. If all the dialogues in the film were spoken only once, the film would be cut down by two-thirds.

A sequence where Ravi paints a picture of how he will torture Sher Singh is a re-enactment of the famous shower murder scene from Hitchcock's Psycho. But it all comes across as distasteful and foul; which by the way, seems like the theme of the film.

The only thing Himmatwala has managed to positively recreate is the picturisation of the song Naino Mein Sapna; however, Ajay Devgn's tough-guy physique doesn't allow him to move like the Jumping Jack that Jeetendra was.

The other thing in the film that is from the 80s, is the sense of humour. Most of the punches are just too predictable and jokes that you may have read in a time when forwarding text messages first became cool. Some typical Sajid Khan puns and double entendres, which Paresh Rawal sportingly delivers in his caricature role as Narayan Das, are simply not funny. If you find yourself in a theatre where people are actually laughing at them, then consider it as a sad commentary on sense of humour of the times we live in.

Of all the films that were made in the 80s, Himmatwala was probably the last film that deserved resurrection. Defining a dark phase in the world of mainstream Hindi cinema, the 80s are a thing of the past for a reason.

For a devotee of Indian cinema, the 80s are a fond memory for parallel films like Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro and Chashme Buddoor and they would like it if it stayed that way. And with David Dhawan's remake of Chashme Buddoor just a week away from us, we can only pray that it doesn't ruin the image of a timeless classic.

As far as Sajid Khan's deteriorating sense of humour is concerned, Himmatwala hasn't brought back the 80s, but it has, in a way, brought mediocrity and crass back into filmmaking.

Rating - 1/2 out of 5

Published in DNA After Hrs (Pune) on March 30, 2013 

Truth of a Lie

It tries to be a thriller, it tries to build suspense, it tries to pump up the adrenaline, it tries to surprise you, it tries to introduce you to a problem and it fails miserably on all the accounts. Aditya Datt's Table No. 21 is a film that wants to make a point and does eventually make it, but by the time it does, you would have already lost interest.

Critically acclaimed for his performance in Aamir and applauded for his role in Shaitaan; Rajeev Khandelwal stars opposite model-actor Tena Desae as a mediocre couple, Vivaan and Siya, who win a lucky trip to Fiji and find themselves playing a game conducted by one Mr Khan (Paresh Rawal). The game of truth, which has a prize money of Rs21 crores, requires Vivaan and Siya to truthfully answer eight yes-no questions and complete the tasks associated with each of the questions. The only catch being that they cannot quit the game and the only binding rule, "If you lie...you die."

Your mind makes the subconscious association of Rajeev Khandelwal and lie detectors to a similar television show which he used to host; and that, when combined with a few stunts from poorly scripted reality shows, is the resultant plot of the game that is Table No. 21. 

By now, you must have realised that the number 21 has got some significance; precisely the point the film tries to make. It is simply the longest and most uninteresting anti-ragging PSA (public service announcement) which highlights Article 21 of the Indian Constitution, that entails a person's right to protection of life and personal liberty. However, the game, which is used as a metaphor for the atrocities and trauma caused by the violation of the fundamental right is too loose and doesn't blend well throughout.

The inconsistent narrative, coupled with mediocre imagery and unnecessary cuts, leaves you irritated by the time the film goes the ill-timed interval. The dialogues are too suggestive and appear too crafted and unnatural. Rajeev Khandelwal tries his best to deliver a flawless performance but there's only so much an actor can do with a bad script. Tena Desae, who is a household face, thanks to TV commercials, is tolerable on screen only for the duration of a TV commercial. Paresh Rawal's intriguing character is not half as mystical as his Baba Bangali in No Smoking. His unusual hairstyle, for which the film gives a subtle explanation in the end, isn't enough to establish him as a fearsome bad guy and his repetitive catch-phrases and untimely shayari add to the ridicule. 

Table No. 21 is a noble thought, but is poorly crafted and fails as a drama on more levels than one. The least that can be expected from such superficial attempts at spreading awareness is some craft and Aditya Datt's film lacks that. If you are looking to spend some quality time at the cinemas this weekend, go through all your options before you choose this. Remember, once you enter, you can't quit, apparently.

Rating - 1 out of 5

Published in DNA After Hrs (Pune) on January 5, 2013