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[Sharmila-Sweet]

Kurbaan Film Review [SPOILERS]

First things first. Kudos to Karan Johar for shifting gears completely and entering into serious territory. Of course, we do love him for his K-class cinema: all his crunchy popcorn films beginning with K, ever since Kuch Kuch Hota Hai redefined mainstream romance. But Kurbaan doesn't need the popcorn at all. It keeps the screen on overboil for most of its screen time with its hard-hitting storyline that dares to venture into undefined territory.

Like Khuda Kay Liye, Kurbaan too looks at the other side of Islamic fundamentalism and puts the post 9/11 tumult in perspective. Who are these guys who carry anger in their hearts, revenge in their heads and bombs in their pockets? Why are they hell bent on blasting the world, irrespective of the anguish it spells to all and sundry? Can there be a purpose behind their madness? Is one man's terrorist actually another man's activist? Kurbaan, written by Karan Johar, raises these pertinent - and extremely topical - questions, without glossing over the one undeniable truth: a suicide bomber can never solve the inequities of the world, Palestine, Iraq, Afghanistan, notwithstanding.

So we have Ehsan Khan (Saif Ali Khan), the Pakistani who lost his wife and kid to American excesses, seething with a desire to avenge his loss. He isn't the archetypal, skull-capped, bearded fundoo, mouthing soliloquies on jihad and intifada (uprising). On the contrary, he's suave, sophisticated and a charmer, tutoring the world on the misconceptions of Islam in the modern world. Small wonder then he manages to win the heart of college professor Avantika (Kareena Kapoor) and follows her to New York on her stint with NYU. But the domestic idyll is short-lived as Avantika soon discovers it isn't her neighbours (the Afghani extended family, headed by Om Puri) alone who have suspicious antecedents. Husband Ehsan too is an integral part of the plot to bomb America for its excesses against Muslims, the world over.

In a classroom sequence, the film tries to put Islamic fundamentalism in perspective by linking the rise of the Muslim terrorist to America's oil-grabbing foreign policy and its questionable attempts at destabilising oil rich countries in order to remain a superpower. Almost every member of the sleeper cell that comprises the Afghan family has a sad story of loss and horror that drove them into becoming fidayeens (suicide bombers). And before you begin to question the filmmakers for going too lenient on terrorism, you find Avantika who remains a non-convert till the very end. Articulating the voice of reason - and non-violence - she questions her husband and oscillates between love and hate for the man who has fathered her child. A prisoner in her own house, her only hope is Riyaaz (Viveik Oberoi), the undercover journalist who has his story of personal loss that pitches him on the other side in this war. He is determined to fight the terrorists and derail their plot of bombing America.

Karan Johar's story has gravitas. Renzil D'Silva's narrative keeps you on the edge of the seat, for most of the time. Salim Suleiman's music score has a melodious feel. Hemant Chaturvedi's cinematography serenades both Delhi, where the Saif-Kareena romance blossoms and New York, where it cracks up. And the performances by almost all the lead characters are gritty. If Om Puri paints a chilling picture of the terrorist who masquerades in the garb of the commoner and Kiron Kher makes the myth of a suicide bomber plausible, then Viveik Oberoi lends credibility to the voice of the progressive Muslim. But it is the chemistry between Saif and Kareena that lights up the film as the duo bring to life a picture of passion and restraint as the doomed lovers. We do however wish their relationship had a stronger emotional graph, post the startling revelation. How did the duo contend with the fear, hate and disillusion that crept in after Saif revealed his true identity: a bit more on that? And a bit less in the length of the film which could do with some taut editing in the second half. Also, there are a few inconsistencies that mar the film's realism. Why does the FBI loom large like a know-it-all, do-it-all figure? Not only do the FBI sleuths always be a step ahead of the terrorists and arrest them without actually knowing who they exactly are, they also emerge unscathed in a suicide bombing attacking where almost everybody crumbles. Super Uncle Sam, did we say!
But Kurbaan sure does strike a chord and sets you thinking on stuff that needs to be sorted out before the new world order - a more humanitarian, less violent - sets in. Don't miss it.

A word about

Performances: Saif and Kareena transport their off screen tuning to the big screen. While their passionate encounters are a class in aesthete, their delineation of Ehsan and Avantika is mature, restrained and realistic. Om Puri, Kiron Kher and Viveik Oberoi are in sync too.
Music: While Salim-Suleiman have come up with an entire audio track which fits in with the ambience of the film, it is Shukran Allah and the title track, Kurbaan Hua which have lingering notes. More importantly, the songs blend in seamlessly with the story and have not been filmed as your run-of-the-mill song-dance numbers.

Dialogue: The conversation amidst the diverse protagonists has a realistic edge and seem straight out of life. It's only when he tries to explain the theoretical basis of Islamic fundamentalism that Anurag Kashyap, dialogue writer, seems to enter the realm of text-book knowledge. The exposition seems a rattling of newspapers headlines.

Story: Karan Johar explores new depths with his insightful story on the world's most pressing problem: terrorism.

Cinematography: Hemant Chaturvedi uses his camera deftly to create stunning vignettes of Delhi and New York, without losing out on the seriousness of the plot.

Styling: Kareena looks svelte in dresses and tights and brings to life a glamorous professor who dons the hijab with equal felicity. Saif is his usual dapper self, making casual seem haute.


TOI

[Sharmila-Sweet]

My Friend Pinto

Subhash K Jha speaks

October 15, 2011 - 17:16 IST

Zindagi khwab hai khwab mein sach hai kya aur bhala jhooth hai kya? Remember Motilal's staggering existentialism in Jagte Raho. Such philosophy underlines the fey goings-on in My Friend Pinto a wispy, nostalgic comedy about a Goan simpleton's one night of zany adventures in the mad mad bustle of Mumbai during New Year's Eve.

This isn't the first film that explores Mumbai by night. From Khwaja Ahmed Abbas's Bambai Raat Ki Bahon Mein to Sudhir Mishra's Iss Raat Ki Subah Nahin, the dark comic side of the city's underbelly has ceaselessly fascinated 'Bollywood' from long before the term 'Bollywood' was invented.

Debutant director Raghav Dar switches on the innovative mode full-blast. The first and most conspicuous component in his comic romp is the director's sense of fun. Dar is fearless about the fun quotient that he has while going with one sumptuous swoop into lives as different from one another as any two homes, families and lives in Mumbai can be.

A semi-retired gangster (Makarand Deshpande) and his never-been star-actress mistress (Divya Dutta), his twin assassin-goons Ajay and Vijay (played by real life Amin and Karim Hajee, who were last seen together on screen dancing in a Sufi trance to A R Rahman's devotional number in Jodhaa-Akbar), an old taxi driver and his gambler-son (theatre actor Shakeel Khan making a stellar screen appearance), a lost girl Maggie (Kalki Koechlin) abandoned by her small-time crook boyfriend on the railway station, the competitive couple (Arjun Mathur and Shruthi Seth), coping with the sudden appearance of an unwanted guest from Goa, even as they try to cope with the fissures in their own marriage….

These, then, are some of the characters who show up one night in Raghav Dar's Mumbai 'raat hi bahon mein'. There are many others. Oh yes, characters pop out of every nook and cranny like rabbits from a hat. Bringing them all together is the Goan Mama's boy, the simpleton Michael Pinto who we're informed, with tongue firmly in the scriptwriter's cheek, is the nephew of Albert 'jissko bahut gussa aata tha'.

The reference to Saeed Mirza's 1980 cult classic Albert Pinto Ko Gussa Kyon Aata Hai is not lost in the film's melee of bustling adventures. The film is knowledgably laden with references to cinema and cinematic devices from the past including a very pointed allusion to a corpse's journey across Mumbai from Kundan Shah's Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron.

My Friend Pinto is a very complex script to write and an even more complex act to pull off on screen. Raghav Dar manages the chaos created by Michael Pinto's misadventures across the celebratory streets of Mumbai with fluency and grace. The awkwardness that we encounter in the storytelling is purely by design. Pinto is put into all kinds of bizarre and embarrassing situations. Like Charlie Chaplin in the silent films he walks out of the chaos unscathed. He is a Goan angel in disguise. He's Chaplin, Raj Kapoor and Guru Dutt from City Lights, Jagte Raho and Pyasa. He is all of those and none of them. Prateik with his waif-like quality truly finds himself as an actor when he plays a lost character. My Friend Pinto needed his vulnerability and uncertainties. The supporting cast is impressive, with Divya Dutta and Makrand Deshpande having a ball with their guns and games. They are like two bulls in a sex shop. Arjun Mathur as Pinto's desensitized Mumbai friend creates quite a graph for his character within the limited space provided by the restless script. Quirky, capricious, whimsical and times magical (watch those Broadway-styled musical performances) My Friend Pinto conveys the fey comic patterns of Kundan Shah's Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron. Prateik echoes the innocent adventures of Raj Kapoor in Jagte Raho. Raghav Dar's directorial debut is endearing in its eccentricity.

When you leave the crazy comic cosmos of Pinto's world behind you take away with you a film that is fiercely original in concept and designed to deliver tongue-in-cheek swipes at all those scared cows of Bollywood that we grew up watching and loving without knowing why we loved them in the first place.

There is something about My Friend Pinto. But you don't really know what.