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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]

Review: Shanghai is powerful cinema
Published: Thursday, Jun 7, 2012, 9:30 IST | Updated: Thursday, Jun 7, 2012, 12:36 IST
By Aniruddha Guha | Place: Mumbai | Agency: DNA


Emraan Hashmi as Jogi in Shanghai
Film: Shanghai
Director: Dibakar Banerjee
Cast: Abhay Deol, Kalki Koechlin, Emraan Hashmi, Prasenjit Chatterjee and Farooque Shaikh
Rating: **** ½

Where does a filmmaker like Dibakar Banerjee go from here? His debut film, the delectable Khosla Ka Ghosla, drew us into the story of a middle-class family fighting to save their land. His second was the sparkling-with-smart-lines and engaging indie, Oye Lucky Lucky Oye, also among the first films to signal the arrival of the change gripping Bollywood. His third, LSD, was a bold, experimental story of love, sex and betrayal, narrated episodically.

Thankfully, Banerjee seems to be aiming higher with each subsequent film. Shanghai, Banerjee’s fourth film, is his best. It’s also a very important film, in addition to being consistently engaging and extremely satiating. Why just make a good film, when you have the wherewithal to make a powerful one? A film that can change perception; one that can make a statement, and push the envelope.

Shanghai does all of that, and does it well. Banerjee brings together great plot (inspired by Greek writer Vassilis Vassilikos' political novel, Z) some very good actors and a bunch of able technicians in a movie that clocks just a little under two hours, but occupies your mind for many after. It has a story few filmmakers in this country would dare to tell – it’s one thing to show politicians as single note, corrupt antagonists (as we have been seeing for years now), and quite another to explore the red-tapism and inner workings of the government machinery, and how it affects the lives of many (as in Shanghai).

On the face of it, the plot is simple – a social worker, Dr Ahemadi (Chatterjee), fighting for the resettlement of the hapless residents of Bharat Nagar, is bumped off. The involvement of the political-builder-police nexus is apparent. Stuck between them is Dr Ahemadi’s student, supporter and lover, Shalini (Koechlin), looking for justice among the mayhem; TA Krishnan (Deol), the guy in charge of the enquiry commission set up to investigate the death; and a small-time video filmmaker, Joginder Parmar aka Jogi (Hashmi), who gets dragged in unwillingly.

The pace is breakneck. Banerjee and co-writer Urmi Juvekar pen a tight screenplay, one that gives you little room to breathe, the story moving swiftly. Shanghai is not the kind of film where one-liners come thick and fast, yet dialogues have gravity. The narrative is propelled by Namrata Rao’s deft editing (with Ishqiya, Band Baaja Baaraat, Kahaani, and now Shanghai, she’s emerging as one of our best), and Mikey McCleary’s background score. The sound of dhols to denote cacophony even as life seems brittle elsewhere is a neat trick.

Shanghai wouldn’t have been what it is without its actors. Sadly, we are yet to constitute an award for Best Casting Director (most films don’t even have one), or Atul Mongia would stake his claim. The film boasts of actors who shine in smaller roles, among them Pitobash, Anant Jogue, Tillotama Shome and Supriya Pathak.

Chatterjee’s casting as Dr Ahemadi is a masterstroke, his character probably the film’s most important, even if short in duration. My favourite performance of the film, though, comes from the ever-dependable Farooque Shaikh, who’s a delight to watch onscreen. Another actor in the same role would have been forgotten soon after the film ends, but Shaikh nestles himself in your memory with a knockout act.

Okay, so Shanghai is “kissy actor” (in the words of Banerjee) Emraan Hashmi’s big shot at winning over that audience which doesn’t think much of his bad-guy-who-makes-out-with-the-pretty-girls roles. As Jogi Parmar, Hashmi is stripped of all charm, the stained teeth and paunch making him a lot less appealing. Yet, make-up and physical transformation isn’t always directly proportionate with great acting. Hashmi, thankfully, goes beyond the exterior aspects of his character, and shines as the vulnerable Jogi. The transformation is indeed commendable, and Shanghai could do for Hashmi what Omkara did for Saif Ali Khan.

Abhay Deol, in comparison, has a comparatively one-note role, but he makes a mark in spite of a suspect Tamil accent. In the final moments of the film, especially, Deol packs a punch. Kalki Koechlin is the film’s weakest link, her physical appearance probably the only factor that seems to have worked in her favour (as it has in past films). How long, though, will she continue playing the agonised expat/NRI with doped-out eyes and weird accent?

To sum, Dibakar Banerjee’s Shanghai walks the thin line between mainstream and meaningful cinema, and does so beautifully. The rare, well-deserving Rs100cr film? Who cares? There’s more to cinema than box office records and opening weekend numbers; Shanghai is the perfect example. Watch.