Gangs Of Wasseypur 2

So does lightning strike twice? Anurag Kashyap would have you believe that. The second part of the desi gangster saga is here. I was immensely curious to find out if the steamrolling drama would maintain the pace it had set. It takes a huge skill to do that and I came away with mixed feelings once again. The concept of GOW 1 was new for the audience brought up on a steady & redressed diet of Godfather clones; hence the visuals and appeal of the drama set in the small towns of Bihar had a tremendous impact. Happily the sequel effortlessly picks up the narrative but creates a direction of its own. The third generation gangster has evolved from being a fist fighter and an ice pick stabber to a Ganja smoking (a la Scarface) wielder of automatic weapons. The geographical boundaries of operation are redrawn but the principal protagonists in this story of vengeance and the struggle for dominance & power remain the same. The changed scenario understandably has new generation characters with quirky traits, hunger for money and power per se but lack the depth and conviction of the older set. Rather than a single minded pursuit of revenge as claimed in the promos and its logical culmination it seems more like a journey on the gravy train with the declared objective of eliminating opposition popping up only at periodical intervals. The game plan is missing and perhaps it’s the perennially stoned psyche of the hero which could be the reason.

Having said that, the roll out of the events is taut & gripping. Unlike its predecessor there is hardly any dull moment. One is also partially spared from the barrage of expletives and whatever is said sounds good. The love play between the main leads is superb and Huma Qureshi brings the house down with her rustic sexuality. I loved the mischievous and subtly erotic onscreen banter between the two. In fact the screenplay is the greatest strength of the movie. Not once does it lose pace or direction and constantly maintains fidelity with the background of the characters. The performances of almost everyone are exemplary. Richa Chadha effortlessly transforms from the hot blooded wife to a sedate widow. Piyush Mishra seems wasted in the what’s-he-doing-in-the-movie role. The new comers with crazy names like Definite, Perpendicular and Tangent look the part. And Nawazuddin Siddiqui as the lotus eater turned gang lord was amazing.

The single biggest difference is that it lacks the understated menace of latent violence. It’s much grosser here. Jean clad youngsters brandishing Kalashnikovs look a little out of place. I’ll prefer the ice pick Bajpayee any day. There seems less method to the wham bam action which gets gorier with the developing story. I hate to say this but the climax is overly bloody and reminiscent of the Kill Bill sequences of Tarantino. And since I am at it, the music was hugely disappointing. Piyush Mishra & Varun Grover slipped up here. Each song of the earlier version is potentially a cult classic but here with the exception of the old world sound of “Taar Bijli Se” and the incredibly loony and foot tapping “Chhi Chha Ledar” all others are forgettable. Of course these are isolated observations but as a package Kashyap has pulled it off again. It’s a great watch and effectively stitched but will remain in the shadow of the first born.

Tiger Unleashed

This has been a first for me. Here was me sitting through an entire Salman Khan movie without consecutively experiencing irritation, boredom, disgust and bewilderment and not necessarily in that order. Much as he is a favorite of Chammak Challo and a rage amongst his millions of wide eyed fans, his acting skills or rather his choice of roles always left me unimpressed. Combine that with his reported off screen persona which itself is a contradiction. A painter, a known charity promoter, darling of numerous beneficiaries of his generosity, he is also reputed to be a man walking on the fringes of the law. His supposed indiscretions may or may not be true but the image that I saw on the screen always came across to be shallow and unimpressive. The body of a Greek god and gyrations to silly tunes never helped me form a favorable opinion about his capacity to emote or hold my interest in his cinematic presence. Ek Tha Tiger changed all of that.

The plot of the story is nothing new. Bits and pieces have been picked from here and there from a number of Hollywood spy stories, woven together in a fabric of India-Pakistan’s never ending conflict of interests and played out across different exotic international locations. So after the cross nation tour courtesy Agent Vinod, we are taken from the savage streets of Iraq to the traditional Britain to beautiful Turkey to hold your breath, the never before Cuba. The photographer in me would have seen the movie just for the spectacular landscape of these places. The opening sequence of twenty odd Paki agents who couldn’t shoot straight at thirty feet and systematically got steam rolled by our home grown James Bond badly aping the free style running made fashionable by the original had me groaning. Not again, I said to myself and started getting ready to raid the snack shop. But hark, normalcy returned quickly. The tiger returns to his lair and is reassigned to another mission, of observation only as he is reminded, in the hallowed precincts of some intimidating academic institution in the Queen’s country. Then boy meets girl, sparks invariably fly, Pakis re enter to spoil the party which I am not going to do by revealing anything more.

What impressed me the most was the treatment of the razor thin plot. It’s a judicious mixture of high voltage action, romance and drama, the classic ingredients of most Bollywood pot boilers but Kabir Khan got the proportion right. Salman Khan is for once bereft of his meaningless comical avatar and has acted with remarkable restraint. His action prowess remains unchanged but he looks the part of the rock solid, caring, protective and oh so vulnerable romantic lover when the occasion demands. The girls are going to get ever so moony eyed just over this. Katrina, of course, looks like a million bucks. The background score is outstanding even though the main theme sounds suspiciously like King Khan’s Don. Sohali Sen’s choice of western classical strains of melody tremendously enhanced the depiction of romantic emotions of the lead pair and mine too. And after a long time it was a pleasure to see Roshan Seth as the eccentric professor.

The movie is a pleasant departure from the normal Bollywood action genre which is a great relief from the likes of head splitting Rowdy Rathore and Bodyguard. The action sequences, although sometime over the top, are still a visual delight but what really took my breath away was the cinematography which has lovingly captured the street life of UK as well as the romantic backdrops of Turkey and Cuba incorporating everything that the places are famous for. And apart from the initial buffoonery of the Indo-Paki protagonists it was a great relief to see them portrayed as competent professionals rather than crazed individuals shooting jingoistic barbs as each other. Well done Mr Khan, you have redeemed Sallu boy and I hope he doesn’t remain a one trick pony.

Movie Review: Gangs of Wasseypur

If one has led an eventful life then by the time one reaches my age there is enough accumulation of experiences to which one can associate with when encountered with new and different ones. Circa 1982-83, we had gone to the Union Territory’s Guest House to meet Chandrashekhar, one of the most enigmatic characters of the then Indian political scenario. The meeting with him was short and sweet but we got to meet and interact with some other polticos too. One was Rani Jethmalani. Man, her pictures do not do her any justice whatsoever. A very attractive woman! Another was Subodh Kant Sahay, an ex Patna University student leader, who has managed to survive in the political jungle till today. Since student politics was a common bond between us he was sweet enough to mingle for a while and treat our group of cocky youngsters to cold drinks. We were sipping on our Cokes when he called out to a gentleman who was quietly chatting with a couple of guys and introduced him to us. It was my first and the only meeting with Surya Deo Singh. I was a bit surprised to meet the unassuming man who was the unquestioned Don of Dhandbad. Soft spoken, humble and polite to a fault he did not in any way indicate the deadly background he came from. As I realized later on, men like him are difficult to judge on absolute moral values. Reactions to his kind of personalities often border on extreme on both ends. He was a Robin Hood to a large section of people who still continue to bestow their patronage to his surviving family. However the police record, journalist’s reports and some legends tell stories of his brutal and blood spotted political career. Irrespective of the loud disclaimers, Gangs of Wasseypur draws parallels from the lives of the Mafiosi of the coal belt. Suryo Deo Singh succeeded B P Sinha as the unchallenged boss of the Dhanbad criminal circuit after having him shot in his own drawing room. After the bullets were fired, if I recall correctly, in the rendition of the killing in the Illustrated weekly the exact words were “Sinha was dead before the first drops of the expensive whiskey he was sipping fell on the carpet”. Guns and goons always fascinate youngsters and we were no exception. Anurag Kashyap has suddenly revived those old memories.

I enjoyed the movie which takes off a bit like the Doordarshan documentary of the yore which is made tolerable only by the rasping narration of that genius Piyush Mishra. The historical narrative was really unnecessary and could have been dramatically played out in a shorter frame. It not only prolonged the movie but also delayed the development of the main plot, speaking of which I was a tad disappointed. A movie is an audio visual narration of a story. It needs to be different from a television serial. GOW’s progress is more of a series of interesting episodes rather than a firm plot. It’s another matter that Kashyap has managed to pull it off but at the end of it all one does start wondering about what one has just watched. There is a heavy emphasis on blood and gore and even heavier on profanities under the garb of realism. Oh yes, it had the audience freaking out especially when it’s the female character mouthing them. Of late there have been a spate of movies, all relating to the Indo Gangetic Plain, which have freely used the vernacular color to the language more as a shock value rather than depiction of common conversation. I am certainly not a prude but I do shudder to think of what would be the end product if the Punjabi movie makers were to follow suit. Poor Santa and Banta are like soap water to this strong refresher course in abuses. But picture abhi baaki hai dost! The second part, of which a long trailer is shown after the end credits, promises to raise the bar further. And that also brings me to the concept of two part movies. It would be great fun if a saga is played out in different time periods but then each part has to be complete in itself. GOW fails here. Just when you thought things were getting interesting you are left dangling with a promise for more. The extended climax was needless and not in sync with story line that you were following. Maybe redemption follows in the next part.

So what makes the movie work? For one it remains faithful to the milieu it is woven around. The spoken language, never mind the ear scorching expletives, does immense credit to the script writer. There is complete irreverence to the gross violence which is offset by the quirky and earthy humour. Extensively shot on location, the background of small towns, ordinary faces caught in extraordinary circumstances and racy dialogues combine to form an interesting potpourri. Mercifully the politicians and the gangsters have not been caricatured. The protagonists are the ordinary daal bhaat variety (okay, meat bhaat too), loving husbands and carnal adventurers who seek to justify every action as a fait accompli or divinely decreed. And that sets Anurag Kashyap apart as leading the pack of parallel cinema makers. He manages to combine high drama and recognizable realism. The other makers of gangster sagas in Bollywood (read Ram Gopal Verma) have never been able to get over their obsession with the Godfather series so I am particularly delighted at the prospect of developing our own cult series and I do hope it goes beyond the revenge theme.

The performances are power packed without exception. Manoj Bajpayee sizzles as the revenge seeking ordinary driver turned ganglord and his understated approach to the role is near perfect. Tigmanshu Dhulia dons the actor’s mantle to portray the character based on Surya Deo Singh and acquits himself as the calculating Mafiosi pretty effectively. The honors however must go to Richa Chadda for her feisty portrayal of Manoj Bajpayee’s strong headed wife who reluctantly accepts his philandering ways. She brought the house down when she exhorts him to eat well lest he “under performs” on his nocturnal trysts. Classic one liners like this keep the viewers interest alive just when the play begins to drag a little. I have to spare a few lines for Piyush Mishra. Maybe it’s a little premature to say so but for once I am going to stick my neck out and dare to compare him with the all round mad genius of Kishore Kumar. This man is extraordinary. A writer, singer and an actor to boot !! I first saw, nay experienced his genius in Gulaal and was completely taken in by the force of his talent. GOW only further strengthens my belief that we are witnessing the unfolding of a legend. Like the great Kishore, he too does not respect any boundaries to his creative abilities. Just take time out to read his lyrics (for Gulaal as well as GOW) and you will see what I mean. There have been attempts to compare Kashyap with Tarantino which I would think is an insult to our boy. The only movie that makes Tarantino worthy is “Inglorious Bastards”. But I have to admire him for the music selection for his films. And that is where he is comparable to our laddie. The music of GOW, so rustic in the Bhojpuri flavor, is a delight. I wonder if you have ever heard names like Sneha Khanwalkar, the Musahar of Sundarpur, Ranjeet Baal Party & Manish Tiwari. They are the guys who bring the tradition of minstrels of Bihar & UP alive. While Piyush Mishra transports you right back to the 50s with his soulful “Ik bagal” the catchy beats of “Hunter” and “O Womaniya” will have your feet tapping. And then there is the highly unusual “Bhaiyya” and “Tain tain tu tu” which are just rhythmic beats, at best a Bhojpuri trance fusion. Awesome stuff but everyone is going to talk about the risqué “Keh ke loonga”. If you can ignore the double entendre it is going to ring in your ears for a long time to come. I already have the entire album and am a repeat listener.

My write up is threatening to become as long as the movie itself but then that is the kind of effect Kashyap has on you. There is so much to like and/or criticize and so less to ignore. Kashyap is going to be liked by some and hated by others but he is never going to be ignored. Way to go !

Grab this Widget	Agent Vinod

By now most of you must have watched Travel Agent Vinod..err… I mean (and no, I am not mean) Agent Vinod. It was slated to be Saif Ali Khan’s magnum opus and I have to say that perhaps only the Nawab could have carried off the role with chutzpah it deserved. It is also a lesson to makers of spy movies with due apologies to John Le Carre, Ian Fleming & Robert Ludlum. While Le Carre’s Smiley is a wee bit outdated in the post cold war scenario, Bond is alive and well and the enigmatic Jason Bourne is currently everyone’s favorite spy. So take a little bit off the three classic gentlemen and combine ‘em into one bloke, add a sexy damsel, shoot and scoot across different continents but make sure the Pakis are the villains and viola, you have your desi spy thriller. I usually do not read about the movies that I plan to see and this was no exception. However for some weird reason I connected the title of the movie with the famous character having the same name in the Hindi Jasoosi novels of the sixties. Therefore in my imagination the action revolved in desi locales with desi babes. However with the opening staccato of the AK47 in the badlands of Afghanistan commenced a breathless journey across the world in three hours and twenty minutes. I can conceive of a million reasons for blowing up the world with an atomic device but why does it have to be only Mujahideen after the poor us Indian kafirs. Next time around how about a Guju Marwari blowing up a KFC joint or a group of carnivorous Punjabis storming an Udipi Tiffin. I am sure Saif will look cool swirling a drumstick before poking it in the eyes of the hapless turbaned waiter and simultaneously delivering a roundhouse kick to the pot bellied Tiffin manager. No amount of gloss can make up for lack of a strong story and I have been yelling about this since the day Adam & Eve ate the forbidden fruit. But very few have listened and certainly not Mr. Saifu. Since the story has been given a thumb down it was left to the special effects and action guys to retrieve the movie. The action excites as well as irritates. Experimentation with the upside down camera was confusing and eminently avoidable. We even gave a long and a hard look at the projector room wondering if the guy in charge had suddenly remembered Baba Ramdev and turned some switch doing his Vipreet Garud Asana. And when will I see the day when the hottie in the negative role will not justify her being so with some sob story? When will she be unabashedly villainous? When will she narrow her eyes, pout and say “I am bad but baby I AM good”. Until that happens you can admire Kareena who is now way past her zero size and aiming for No 10. But hey, let me tell you that I am a great though ancient fan of the dhishum dhishum movies and from that angle alone the experience wasn’t half so bad. What queers the pitch a tad little is if, like me, you too watch a lot of Hollywood movies because then the comparisons become inevitable and even accounting for the lower investment in the production the end result isn’t that great. But a good try Mr. Saifu. We haven’t had a decent spy movie in decades and I hope this launches a thousand Berettas.

Movie Review: Saheb Biwi Aur Gangster

Don’t confuse it with the classic original. Guru Dutt’s magnum opus only partially lends the title for this riveting drama. From the feudal Bengal landlords of British India, Tigmanshu Dhulia transports the action to the Hindi heartland amongst it’s relics of decaying royalty. There is this Saheb whose financial clout is tied to the strings controlled by his step mother. And he has a Vodka swigging bombshell of a Biwi suffering from an attention deficit and a roving eye, both of which periodically propel her into hysteria. In steps our laddie from the Jatland and slides his way into the heart and the bed of the Biwi. Wait a minute, he is the lover boy. So who is the Gangster? No prizes for correctly guessing that but actually there was a surfeit of gangsters in the movie, Saheb & Biwi included. The script of the movie is taut and each turn of the story unfolds with effortless ease. The story develops like it should and surprises you with nuances even when you are with the knowledge of what is about to happen. I loved the way the characters have been conceptualized. Jimmy Shergill as the blue blooded aristocratic strongman fits the role to perfection. He sums up the understated violence surrounding his troubled life. A neglecting husband, he kills and debauches with panache. His wife longs for fulfillment and sublimates her desires in alcohol. Mahi Gill looks the part. The political rivals of the Saheb introduce a mole in his household with an intention to eliminate competition but a heady brew of lust & ambition sees the Gangster pursue his own agenda. Randeep Hooda, as the wannabe banker turned jealous lover turned killer only seems to be improving with each movie but he had better come up with some star performances before age catches up with him. Deepal “Kanta lagaa” Shaw surprised me with her natural portrayal of a machinegun mouth village girl. The movie has an irresistible old world charm far removed from the familiarity of the multiplex & internet driven urban madhouse where disputes are quickly settled by a bullet and pursuit of pleasure takes precedence over discretion or propriety. The music is simple and superb, specially the Shreya Ghoshal’s rendition of “Raat Mujhe” which has a mystical & haunting quality which I normally associate with some of the Lata songs of the 60s. As a package the movie is a class by its own and a worthy successor to Dhulia’s student politics thriller “Haasil” but for a diehard romantic like me its stuff dreams are made of.

Speedy Singhs: Bhangra On Ice

First mistake? See the original. Never ever go for the dubbed version of a movie. Never mind “Slumdog Millionaire” which was an honorable exception since no western expletive can a match a vernacular one. And the second one? Never take Chammak Challo for a flick with a Punju story line. Only this time she had a bit of inside support. Two hard core Punjus had accompanied us but were only appreciative of the end title song, “Sheran di kuam Punjabi” belted out by RDB & Ludacris since it has this quality of enhancing the aggressive DNA of all Punjus. Well, Chammak Challo gets to her parochial best whenever good ‘ol Punjus are seen to be winning, which thrills me to no end but gets her goat. These conflicting loyalties usually result into a potentially tense & explosive situation inside the cinema hall and the inevitable fall out is that after furiously slurping away on her cappuchhino (low sugar, if you please) she attacks my Diet Coke and goes on to demolish it. At great risk to my life and future liberty I usually hold my ground and continue to make approving sounds on the antics of the never say die Punjus. After all, sheran di kaum Punjabi !!
The kind of presence the immigrants (read Punjus) have created in Canada and other parts of the world would have been enough reason for Akshay Kumar to encash the potential of the NRI audience. “Of course” says Chammak Challo, “They will do anything for money”. It’s a story of an NRI punju who has ice, sorry.. stars, in his eyes dreaming of being an ace ice hockey player but has a-play-it-safe-in-life father bent upon forcing him into the trucking business. A washed out player ( Rob Lowe, no less) spots the budding talent and decides to turn coach. The resident gora players build obstacles in the Punjus quest for glory. The Punjus lose initially but go on to conquer the world. Everybody lives happily ever after. So what’s new huh? It follows the story line of all great sports movies of triumph over tribulations but what I liked about the movie was that it was sans unnecessary melodrama which is the bane of most Bollywood ventures. It’s also a whacky love story without getting too mushy and replete with classic one liners which must have been more fun in the original version. The heart thumping, adrenalin rising action on the skating rink has been captured most professionally. Probably the firang production team had something to do with it. But the USP of the movie is that it effectively captures daily life emotions of ordinary people with small dreams, professional or otherwise. I would probably watch it again, but this time the English version, for the sheer joy of watching the whole Punju brood descending onto the skating rink and turn it into a bhangra fest of a wedding reception. Go Punjus go !!
On our way back from the multiplex I sneaked a glance at the sulking Chammak Challo and saw the hint of a smile. Ahhh, a chance ! So promptly I gathered the courage to ask if I could get a mutton curry packed instead of eating the ghia prepared at home. She said yes. I blinked. Yessss. She does love Punjus after all. I plan to write to Ludacris & Co to sing a song…. Shera di kaum Garhwali. Does it sound right? It had better !!!

Romancing The Tune

The Wind Flute, a traditional musical instrument of the Garhwal hills, played by a renowned exponent in his inimitable style