‘Tanu Weds Manu’ is a romance woven around the time-bound Indian tradition of bride hunting. An interesting premise and an interesting take-off (watch Manu’s first meeting with Tanu), however, don’t materialize into a closer look at the whole tiring exercise of an arranged marriage – the numerous meetings, the endless snacks and tea/coffee/cold drinks, the repetitive ritual of discussions, and the incessant travel.
The film quickly focuses on one girl, Kanpur-based Tanuja Trivedi, and falls into the old track of boy meets girl and thereafter. The simple, straightforward treatment of the subject keeps the proceedings interesting until the first jarring note is struck by the change of scene to Kapurthala.
TWM’s excuse to shift to Punjab, apparently for the wedding of the hero’s best friend, appears tenuous. It seems more like a reason to enforce a shift of gears so that Bhangra-driven song and dance sequences can be introduced and the proceedings made more lively.
There lies the basic problem with TWM, which despite its no-frills, down to earth storytelling, ends up being too sedate for the average film lover’s appetite. For a movie that’s essentially a love story between two young, modern people, there are not enough emotional fireworks or outbursts, especially between the lead pair. It almost ends up reminding us of the 1960s Muslim socials, where the hero and heroine strictly adhere to ‘adaab’.
A good example is the sudden mellowing of the spunky, in-your-face Tanuja (Tanu), played enthusiastically by Kangna Ranaut. Instead of Tanu giving Manu a piece of her mind for concealing his love for her, she makes a passionate plea to him to come clean. How boring!
And I wish Manu had finally done something out of the box when faced with ruffian Raja Awasthi’s (Jimmy Shergill) determination to get married to Tanu. In true Bollywood ishtyle, Manu could have eloped with Tanu (in a bike sequence with Tanu in the driver’s seat) and got married in Delhi, or something. An almost similar sequence is there in the film but in a different context.
What distinguishes TWM is its attempt to retain a semblance of real life and real characters while trying to capture small-town India. In this last aim, the film falters as it keeps changing scene from Kanpur to Delhi to Kapurthala and to and fro, not allowing the milieu of any one place to dominate. I wish the film was based in Kanpur and Delhi/Lucknow.
R Madhavan, as Manoj Sharma/Manu, comes up with a superbly underplayed performance (watch him confessing his love for Tanu) and Kangna plays the perfect foil by going the other way – the young, bored, smoking, rum-swigging, parent-hating and philandering fiancée-to-be. It’s a treat watching Kangna sing and dance to the Asha-Shamshad classic ‘Kajra Mohabbatwala’ (for once, not remixed). You know how good an actress she is when you realize that this was a role that could have easily gone over the top. But Kangna never overacts even while remaining in character throughout the film. Unfortunately, her performance gets diluted by the sudden mellowing towards the end. But it’s not her fault. The director should have taken inspiration from Shruti Kakkar (Anushka Sharma) of ‘Band, Baaja, Baaraat’.
More unfortunate is the waste of a powerhouse of talent in the forms of the splendid K K Raina, the flamboyant Ravi Kissen (he should have played Raja, not Jimmy) and the very talented Rajinder Tiwari. They end up being no more than extras.
The music, despite some impressive numbers, doesn’t seem to register while watching the movie. (But listen to the album, and the music is captivating. The Wadali brothers’ ‘Ay rangrez mere’, for instance, is refreshing). At the end, you do take home memories of the classic ‘Kajra Mohabbatwala’, ‘Sadi Gali’ and ‘Jugni’. Good work, Krsna – who happens to be the music director from Siliguri, Bengal.
TWM is a movie that’s definitely worth a watch – for the refreshing pairing of Madhavan and Kangna, the fleeting glimpses of small-town India, the attempt to make a grounded romance, and for some memorable moments (watch Manu’s friend Pappi introduce himself to a nubile Punjabi called Komal). TWM deserves an 8 on 10.
PS: I wonder if some songs were snipped out by the time I watched TWM in the third week of its release? Or are some songs available only on the album?
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Kills Time, Just About
7 Khoon Maaf leaves you with a sense of dissatisfaction and disappointment. Despite all the attempts at good acting, the striking imagery, a couple of lovely songs, you go home neither shaken nor stirred. Why is it that such a promising venture fails to haunt you after the deed is done?
Perhaps the fault lies in the script itself. It’s a straight, almost linear presentation of a series of six murders (the seventh, you must guess), most of which you don’t empathise with because there is not enough build-up to the gory act. The tormentor husbands of Susanna Anna Maria Johannes (Priyanka Chopra) are not around long enough for you to loath them, for you to want to get rid of them. How long can you spend in the build-up when you have to show six murders in a span of 2 to 2.5 hours?
And when the men do get bumped off, it’s done summarily. The murders don’t give you the chills. What’s a murder if your blood doesn’t curdle at the sight of it?
If black comedy was the aim, director Vishal Bhardwaj should have taken inspiration from Charlie Chaplin, whose ‘Monsieur Verdoux’ is a masterpiece of the genre. And from Hitchcock’s ‘Frenzy’, for its many nailbiting murderous moments.
The only episode long enough (and humorous enough) in 7KM to draw you in is that of Inspector Kimatlal (Annu Kapoor). Annu memorably brings alive the character of the bumbling young policeman turned elderly and wily Intelligence Bureau sleuth. But do you bump off a man who has a voracious, Viagra-driven appetite for sex despite his advancing age? A better reason, not clearly enunciated, is his knowledge of Susanna’s guilt. The best thing about this episode is Annu himself, who has been returned to the big screen by Vishal in a befitting role. SHOWS HOW LITTLE WE NOW MAKE USE OF THESE BRILLIANT ACTORS FROM THE NEW WAVE ERA.
Irrfan Khan hardly gets time to live out the perversity of his character, the romantic-by-day and sadistic-by-night poet Wasiullah Khan. His could have been a truly scary characterization if only the role had been better fleshed out. Before you discover the depths of his depravity, Wasiullah is gone. Now, think Irrfan of ‘Maqbool’.
Like Irrfan, Naseeruddin Shah hardly gets to play out the role of Dr Madhusudan Tarafdar, whose expertise in poisonous medicinal items could have been a great excuse to etch out a cold blooded character. But then, Tarafdar would have needed an entire film to himself.
The role of Jimmy Stetsun (Jamshedji Rathore), played by John Abraham, needed a truly no-holds-barred performance. But John comes up short. Imagine Saif Ali Khan as the choirboy turned rocker turned womanizing and cross-dressing, delusional junkie. Poor casting, Mr Bhardwaj.
Talking of casting, how I wish Tabu had played Susanna. Her smouldering intensity would have been perfect for the character. Priyanka does make a brave attempt but she is no Tabu. The usually glamorous Priyanka works very hard to etch out the role of an orphaned, unlucky in love and finally, troubled woman. Watch her breaking down after her first traumatic night with Wasiullah, and when she tries to blow her head off with a gun. But really, I missed Tabu in 7KM.
Neil Nitin Mukesh succeeds to some extent in etching out the jealous, frustrated, maimed and impotent Major Edwin Rodrigues. But his dialogue delivery sorely needed a kick in the pants.
The Russian diplomat’s story is forgettable and could have been left out. The actor is so deadpan that there is no reaction when Susanna’s aides reveal her murderous spree to him. This could have been a really chilling scene but for the misplaced song and dance presentation. It ends up being unintentionally funny. The Russian actor’s only saving grace is his attempt to speak bombastic Hindi and imitate Bachchan from ‘Deewar’.
The music, always Vishal Bhardwaj’s strong point, is mostly below par in 7KM. Another big let-down. The notable exceptions are ‘Bekaraan’ and ‘Darling’. If the first is haunting, the second (marking Usha Uthup’s return to film playback) is infectiously energetic. The rock songs, ‘Dil Dil Hai’ and ‘O Mama’ were best NOT composed. ‘O Mama’, however, works as a ballad.
Overall, an unexpected disappointing attempt from Vishal Bhardwaj. Hope he regains the effectiveness of his ‘Maqbool’ and ‘Omkara’ in his new ventures.
But this should not stop you from watching ‘7 Khoon Maaf’. It’s worth one watch. It gets a 6 on 10.
Perhaps the fault lies in the script itself. It’s a straight, almost linear presentation of a series of six murders (the seventh, you must guess), most of which you don’t empathise with because there is not enough build-up to the gory act. The tormentor husbands of Susanna Anna Maria Johannes (Priyanka Chopra) are not around long enough for you to loath them, for you to want to get rid of them. How long can you spend in the build-up when you have to show six murders in a span of 2 to 2.5 hours?
And when the men do get bumped off, it’s done summarily. The murders don’t give you the chills. What’s a murder if your blood doesn’t curdle at the sight of it?
If black comedy was the aim, director Vishal Bhardwaj should have taken inspiration from Charlie Chaplin, whose ‘Monsieur Verdoux’ is a masterpiece of the genre. And from Hitchcock’s ‘Frenzy’, for its many nailbiting murderous moments.
The only episode long enough (and humorous enough) in 7KM to draw you in is that of Inspector Kimatlal (Annu Kapoor). Annu memorably brings alive the character of the bumbling young policeman turned elderly and wily Intelligence Bureau sleuth. But do you bump off a man who has a voracious, Viagra-driven appetite for sex despite his advancing age? A better reason, not clearly enunciated, is his knowledge of Susanna’s guilt. The best thing about this episode is Annu himself, who has been returned to the big screen by Vishal in a befitting role. SHOWS HOW LITTLE WE NOW MAKE USE OF THESE BRILLIANT ACTORS FROM THE NEW WAVE ERA.
Irrfan Khan hardly gets time to live out the perversity of his character, the romantic-by-day and sadistic-by-night poet Wasiullah Khan. His could have been a truly scary characterization if only the role had been better fleshed out. Before you discover the depths of his depravity, Wasiullah is gone. Now, think Irrfan of ‘Maqbool’.
Like Irrfan, Naseeruddin Shah hardly gets to play out the role of Dr Madhusudan Tarafdar, whose expertise in poisonous medicinal items could have been a great excuse to etch out a cold blooded character. But then, Tarafdar would have needed an entire film to himself.
The role of Jimmy Stetsun (Jamshedji Rathore), played by John Abraham, needed a truly no-holds-barred performance. But John comes up short. Imagine Saif Ali Khan as the choirboy turned rocker turned womanizing and cross-dressing, delusional junkie. Poor casting, Mr Bhardwaj.
Talking of casting, how I wish Tabu had played Susanna. Her smouldering intensity would have been perfect for the character. Priyanka does make a brave attempt but she is no Tabu. The usually glamorous Priyanka works very hard to etch out the role of an orphaned, unlucky in love and finally, troubled woman. Watch her breaking down after her first traumatic night with Wasiullah, and when she tries to blow her head off with a gun. But really, I missed Tabu in 7KM.
Neil Nitin Mukesh succeeds to some extent in etching out the jealous, frustrated, maimed and impotent Major Edwin Rodrigues. But his dialogue delivery sorely needed a kick in the pants.
The Russian diplomat’s story is forgettable and could have been left out. The actor is so deadpan that there is no reaction when Susanna’s aides reveal her murderous spree to him. This could have been a really chilling scene but for the misplaced song and dance presentation. It ends up being unintentionally funny. The Russian actor’s only saving grace is his attempt to speak bombastic Hindi and imitate Bachchan from ‘Deewar’.
The music, always Vishal Bhardwaj’s strong point, is mostly below par in 7KM. Another big let-down. The notable exceptions are ‘Bekaraan’ and ‘Darling’. If the first is haunting, the second (marking Usha Uthup’s return to film playback) is infectiously energetic. The rock songs, ‘Dil Dil Hai’ and ‘O Mama’ were best NOT composed. ‘O Mama’, however, works as a ballad.
Overall, an unexpected disappointing attempt from Vishal Bhardwaj. Hope he regains the effectiveness of his ‘Maqbool’ and ‘Omkara’ in his new ventures.
But this should not stop you from watching ‘7 Khoon Maaf’. It’s worth one watch. It gets a 6 on 10.
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