Rajkumar Gupta’s No One Killed Jessica (NOKJ) is yet another in a series of Delhi-centric films being churned out by Bollywood. This time, however, the focus is on the seamier side of the national capital, one that I mentioned in passing in my review of Tees Maar Khan.
Jessica Lall, a model turned celebrity bartender-for-a-night, was shot dead in late 1999 and the final verdict came in 2006 (following an appeal against a lower court’s acquittal of the killer) after a huge public outcry, the likes of which had perhaps not been seen before. Since then, candlelight activism has become integral to protest calendars. This aspect is amply highlighted in the film, to the extent that it grates on your nerves. Ten minutes or more is spent on the whole business, underscoring the strangely arid and hasty second half, full of a media campaign that takes some tips from real-life concealed-camera journalism.
What’s interesting is spotting real-life people like Bina Ramani, Malini Ramani and Shayan Munshi in the screen characters.
The first half, though, manages to touch a chord with its focus on the emotional drama. Vidya Balan, as Sabrina, underplays her role to the correct pitch, stealing the show right from under the nose of the super-aggro Rani Mukherjee as Mallika Jaitley. Why does an ambitious, give-it-back-as-good-as-she gets urban woman have to be always shown having a free sex life, liberally using the F-word, resorting to dramatics to get her way, and living away from her parents. Mallika would perhaps have been more believable if Rani had toned down the aggression. Wonder which real-life journalist she based her performance on! Where’s that wonderful actress from Yuva or Bunty aur Babli?
Vidya changes her body language and expressions to bring alive Sabrina. This is not to overlook her off-key, ever-so-slightly hysterical act at the very beginning. Overall, another creditable performance to add to Vidya’s impressive repertoire.
And the director could have spared us Rani’s preachy speech to Vidya towards the end of the film. All the time wasted on such superficial stuff could have been well-spent on detailing the machinations, the coercion and the threats by political bigwigs that led to the acquittals in the case. The portrayal of the seamier side of Delhi politics ends up being sketchy.
The music, by DevD man Amit Trivedi, doesn’t really capture the manic energy or sheer, stunning innovativeness of the Anurag Kashyap film’s soundtrack. The theme song, ‘Dilli, Dilli’, however, comes close and sticks in your head after the movie is over.
The treatment of the film is strictly pedestrian. There is no innovativeness here expected of a movie with such a hard-hitting theme. The disco scenes (obviously a concession to the masala-loving public though necessary), the interactions between sisters Jessica and Sabrina, even the showdown between Jessica and her killer, the (muted) venting of anger by Sabrina, her ever-sobbing mother, the journalist’s portrayal – it’s a long cache of clichés. This is where some fictional additions could have done wonders.
Rani’s voice-over is another cliché, a narrative device that belonged in 1930s/40s Hollywood and 40s/50s Bollywood. I personally feel the voice-over is best left alone unless the film is an autobiographical account, which NOKJ is not.
Where Gupta has shown real spark is in his court scenes. Veering far away from standard Bollywood courtroom drama, Gupta has focused instead on close-ups and medium shots and sharp dialogues to keep the court procedure gripping. Bravo!
One must also commend Gupta for not forgetting humour in telling a grim tale. The scene where Sabrina’s defence lawyer urges a witness to ‘come down from the chhath (ab to chhath se niche aaja mere bhai)’ and Sabrina’s amused reaction are indeed funny. Equally funny (despite the typecasting of Sikhs) is the group of Sardarjis who repeat “Justice for” instead of following up their leader’s exhortation with “Jessica”. Or the politician’s wife, who keeps appearing every now and then and wants her killer-son ‘Manu back’.
And who is Myra, the debutante actress? She is a spitting image of Jessica Lall as pictured in photographs.
Not to forget Calcutta’s Rajesh Sharma, who plays the investigating police officer. He doesn’t have much to do by way of histrionics but in the little time he is on screen, Sharma shows why he is such a good actor. We need to see more of him in Bollywood.
Despite all the shortcomings, NOKJ is certainly worth a watch, if only because few movies are made on contemporary, controversial events. I won’t be surprised if NOKJ’s real success lies in opening the doors for more films on similar topics. So many are waiting – from the Nitish Katara killing to Ruchika Girhotra’s molestation to Aarushi Talwar’s murder.
NOKJ deserves an 8 on 10, if only for making a brave attempt to bring alive a controversial incident, for a generation that is quick to forget its villains and equally quick to overlook the unforgivable misdeeds of the nation’s gatekeepers.
Do watch NOKJ in tribute to Jessica Lall.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Maar Dala Tees Maar Khan
You leave the theatre with a sense of disappointment after Tees Maar Khan not because it's as bad as the reviews say it is but because it could have been so much better with a little more effort at a proper storyline. Sad because it's a film by Farah Khan, who has spun such rollicking yarns before like Om Shanti Om and Main Hoon Na.
Whatever else they may not have been, those earlier movies were certainly not boring despite being fanciful. TMK is certainly fanciful but borders (I repeat, borders) on the boring. I'm sure many would love to disagree and go the whole hog and junk it.
There are scenes where conman Tees Maar Khan is tearing his hair out to explain to his actors what to enact in his fake movie. I guess that’s scriptwriter Shirish Kunder putting a little bit of himself in the script.
The biggest failure of TMK is its casting, not because they don’t perform but because an Akshay Kumar or a Katrina Kaif was simply not needed. This movie would have perhaps worked much better with non-stars or lesser known stars like Ranvir Shorey or Vinay Pathak or a Rajpal Yadav. What was the point of casting Akshay-Katrina if you were not going to give them a love story to enact. The hottest pair of the last decade was absolutely wasted. And why cast a talented actor like Akshaye Khanna in a role that demands so little? And what a waste of a gifted comic actor like Ali Asgar.
That’s the story of TMK – all-round waste of everything. A potentially good story squandered, good actors misused, an item number that’s like lunch before breakfast (what a waste of Sheila ki jawani) and a complete massacre of that Mahendra Kapoor-Manoj Kumar classic, ‘Mere desh ki dharti’. The use of the song in TMK does raise laughs but it also makes you sad at the inappropriate usage. Would somebody do that to Rafi’s immortal ‘Ab tumhare hawale watan sathiyon’ from Haqeeqat? I doubt it.
And this is the first time that a Farah Khan film has such indifferent music. Vishal-Shekhar disappoints. Even ‘Sheila ki jawani’ is an average song, saved only by Katrina’s belly pyrotechnics. She has worked her abs off for the number but for what. There is none of Sheila’s spunk in the rest of Anya, the character Katrina plays.
TMK relies entirely on Akshay’s broad shoulders to carry it. And Akshay is to blame to a great extent. What’s he doing producing such a movie? His choice of films of late have been seriously suspect but now his choice of productions too are… Hopefully, Khiladi Kumar will pull himself back before it’s too late.
The script sets out to spoof 1970s potboilers, with the birth of the hero in a hospital ward, his delayed and suspenseful introduction, the ma-beta-honewali bahu camaraderie. If only TMK had not outright spoofed but played it straight like a retro movie (like Om Shanti Om or Once Upon A Time in Mumbai), it would have worked.
The cops and robber theme, the police conference (both staples of ’70s cinema), the group song in the ‘khet’ (from the ’60s), the over-the-top ‘chor’ hero, the resurrection of the Muslim milieu (although fake) that is full of green tubelights, a studio set, the gaudy shirt, the skull cap, the kohl-eyed heroine in ghagra-kurti (remember Amar Akbar Anthony) – all this could have added up to something truly entertaining.
The plethora of supposedly gay characters was an absolute put-off. An apparently gay village trio is addressed ‘girls’ by Katrina’s character. And Tees Maar Khan’s three henchmen act queer. Weird! Or is this a reflection of Bollywood reality?
In the final assessment, this is a con job on the movie-loving public and the filmmakers can’t even pull a fast one. But I would still give it 6 on 10, which is worth one viewing, if only for Sheila ki jawani and Akshay’s valiant but misplaced act to pull off a non-starter, and the Oscar-winning-spree spoof as the end-credits roll. That last bit is really telling.
Whatever else they may not have been, those earlier movies were certainly not boring despite being fanciful. TMK is certainly fanciful but borders (I repeat, borders) on the boring. I'm sure many would love to disagree and go the whole hog and junk it.
There are scenes where conman Tees Maar Khan is tearing his hair out to explain to his actors what to enact in his fake movie. I guess that’s scriptwriter Shirish Kunder putting a little bit of himself in the script.
The biggest failure of TMK is its casting, not because they don’t perform but because an Akshay Kumar or a Katrina Kaif was simply not needed. This movie would have perhaps worked much better with non-stars or lesser known stars like Ranvir Shorey or Vinay Pathak or a Rajpal Yadav. What was the point of casting Akshay-Katrina if you were not going to give them a love story to enact. The hottest pair of the last decade was absolutely wasted. And why cast a talented actor like Akshaye Khanna in a role that demands so little? And what a waste of a gifted comic actor like Ali Asgar.
That’s the story of TMK – all-round waste of everything. A potentially good story squandered, good actors misused, an item number that’s like lunch before breakfast (what a waste of Sheila ki jawani) and a complete massacre of that Mahendra Kapoor-Manoj Kumar classic, ‘Mere desh ki dharti’. The use of the song in TMK does raise laughs but it also makes you sad at the inappropriate usage. Would somebody do that to Rafi’s immortal ‘Ab tumhare hawale watan sathiyon’ from Haqeeqat? I doubt it.
And this is the first time that a Farah Khan film has such indifferent music. Vishal-Shekhar disappoints. Even ‘Sheila ki jawani’ is an average song, saved only by Katrina’s belly pyrotechnics. She has worked her abs off for the number but for what. There is none of Sheila’s spunk in the rest of Anya, the character Katrina plays.
TMK relies entirely on Akshay’s broad shoulders to carry it. And Akshay is to blame to a great extent. What’s he doing producing such a movie? His choice of films of late have been seriously suspect but now his choice of productions too are… Hopefully, Khiladi Kumar will pull himself back before it’s too late.
The script sets out to spoof 1970s potboilers, with the birth of the hero in a hospital ward, his delayed and suspenseful introduction, the ma-beta-honewali bahu camaraderie. If only TMK had not outright spoofed but played it straight like a retro movie (like Om Shanti Om or Once Upon A Time in Mumbai), it would have worked.
The cops and robber theme, the police conference (both staples of ’70s cinema), the group song in the ‘khet’ (from the ’60s), the over-the-top ‘chor’ hero, the resurrection of the Muslim milieu (although fake) that is full of green tubelights, a studio set, the gaudy shirt, the skull cap, the kohl-eyed heroine in ghagra-kurti (remember Amar Akbar Anthony) – all this could have added up to something truly entertaining.
The plethora of supposedly gay characters was an absolute put-off. An apparently gay village trio is addressed ‘girls’ by Katrina’s character. And Tees Maar Khan’s three henchmen act queer. Weird! Or is this a reflection of Bollywood reality?
In the final assessment, this is a con job on the movie-loving public and the filmmakers can’t even pull a fast one. But I would still give it 6 on 10, which is worth one viewing, if only for Sheila ki jawani and Akshay’s valiant but misplaced act to pull off a non-starter, and the Oscar-winning-spree spoof as the end-credits roll. That last bit is really telling.
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