Originality of content in mainstream Indian/Hindi
Cinema has always been an area of much debate and vagueness, where masters of
‘derived inspiration’ have done battle with champions of fresh thoughts. Owing
to the mass market-driven compulsion of catering to a pan-Indian audience,
where the lowest common denominator can make or break a multi-crore venture, well-packaged
entertainment has by and large lorded over novelty of ideas here, with both
‘manufacturers’ (since film folk nowadays insist on referring to themselves as
an ‘industry’ – albeit a most disorganized one) and patrons traditionally preferring
the former.
At this juncture, we are faced with a most
interesting question: is originality overrated, at least in the realms of
mainstream cinema? It can be argued that there are only so many stories to
tell, and shrewd manipulation of the theme (and the resources at the maker’s
disposal) by way of skillful direction and a smart screenplay often scores over
original content, provided the treatment and packaging are done adroitly enough.
Look no further than commercial Hindi Cinema of the 1973-1982 period, the era
that has been arguably the most influential in defining India’s contemporary
pop culture, the age of giants like Salim-Javed and Amitabh Bachchan. Many of
their best works (jointly and separately) were inspired by other films, both
Indian and international. DEEWAAR owed its roots to Gunga Jumna and Mother India; MAJBOOR took off from Zig Zag; SHAKTI had its genesis in
DEEWAAR
(and to some extent Thanga Pathakkam);
ZANJEER
took its inspiration from Death Rides A
Horse, AGNEEPATH borrowed liberally from Nayakan, and SHOLAY had too many points of influence
to list in a single article. Yet all these films are counted among the most
well-crafted pieces of commercial Hindi cinema, having stood the test of
durability and in turn becoming inspiration points themselves.
This brings us to Kaabil, produced by actor-turned-filmmaker Rakesh Roshan and
directed by Sanjay Gupta, both master craftsmen of the masala entertainment genre. Neither man has ever been a stickler
for originality: while Roshan took inspiration from diverse sources such as Return To Eden (Khoon Bhari Maang), Ram Aur
Shyam (Kishen Kanhaiya), KASME
VAADE (Kaho Naa…Pyaar Hai), E.T. (Koi…Mil Gaya), and Superman
(Krrish and Krrish 3), Gupta successfully Indianized A Better Tomorrow (Aatish),
The Juror (Khauff), Reservoir Dogs (KAANTE),
Oldboy (Zinda), and Seven Days (Jazbaa). Kaabil keeps the tradition alive while serving as a good confluence point of both Gupta’s and Roshan’s individual approaches to filmmaking.
Rohan Bhatnagar (Hrithik Roshan), a young
voice-over artiste, is introduced to Supriya Sharma (Yami Gautam), an
independent working woman, by a well-meaning mutual acquaintance. It is
literally a blind date – both are sightless. They click and before long, Rohan
has successfully wooed Supriya. Expectedly, marriage follows.
Soon afterwards, tragedy strikes the lovelorn
couple. Local goon Amit Shelar (Rohit Roy) and his friend Wasim (Md. Sahidur
Rahaman) rape a vulnerable Supriya when Rohan is away at work. Since Amit is
the younger brother of influential corporator Madhavrao Shelar (Ronit Roy), the
investigating officers waste no time in hushing up the case; they even help Madhavrao
abduct the couple to prevent them from going for the all-important medical
examination that must be conducted within 24 hours of rape. Far from helping
the distraught couple, the police label them as frauds attempting to blackmail
the Shelars.
Supriya commits suicide after being raped for the
second time. When Madhavrao taunts Rohan and tells him to stop pursuing the
case, the grieving man, who has already given up on the law, decides to take things
in his own hands and deliver vigilante justice to his beloved’s tormentors.
Kaabil
is a shout-out to Bollywood’s great revenge dramas of the 80s and 90s, the
direct descendant of films like ANDHAA KAANOON, AAKHREE RAASTA, INDRAJEET,
and Phool Aur Angaar, where the hero,
traumatized after the rape and subsequent death of his wife/adopted
daughter/sister, sets out on a mission to visit vengeance upon the evil-doers.
While the premise itself is nothing new, the treatment is clever, with the
protagonists’ blindness adding a new dimension to an oft-told tale, but not
without silently outlining how much modern-day Bollywood, despite its
nose-turned-up-at-everything-retro attitude, is still dependent upon the
formulaic, masala cinema of yore as
far as drawing inspiration is concerned.
Hrithik is in fabulous form; this is probably his
finest performance since Krrish in
mid-2006. The goofy lover, the talented dubbing artiste, the broken husband
shattered by his wife’s rape and suicide, the relentless machine of death – he
does full justice to every aspect of the role. He moves through the narrative
as a Great White Shark might move through the ocean: smooth and unstoppable. The scene at the shopping mall, where the young lover’s helplessness surfaces on getting separated from his girlfriend, and his dubbing scenes, especially his spot-on mimicry of Amitabh Bachchan to impress his new wife, deserve special mention. In many ways, the character of Rohan Bhatnagar is a direct throwback to
Bachchan’s Angry Young Vijay of DEEWAAR, SHAKTI, and AGNEEPATH:
dangerous, calm, calculating, and a resourceful risk-taker. He reminds one of
textbook ‘blind man’ performances such as Sanjeev Kumar in Qatl, Denzel Washington in The
Book Of Eli, and Naseeruddin Shah in Sparsh.
Yami Gautam is restrained; there is a great deal
of poise in her portrayal of Supriya who, even in her darkest hour, puts her
husband’s emotional suffering ahead of her own trauma. Rohit Roy is suitably
slimy, while Ronit Roy channelizes the innate menace of Madhavrao very well.
But it is Narendra Jha, the chief baddie from last year’s Ghayal Once Again, who is a revelation as senior cop Chaubey. Clearly,
here is someone to watch out for.
The technical aspects of the film are
well-rounded. Akiv Ali’s editing is sharp, while Sudeep Chatterjee and Ayananka
Bose’s cinematography is polished. The numerous close-ups capture the
expressions of the characters in fine detail. Shyam Kaushal’s fight sequences
are ingenious and tight; since our man is blind and has to rely more on his wits
and other senses than physical sight, it was necessary to keep the action short
and focused. Rajesh Roshan’s music is a bit of a letdown: barring "Main tere kaabil", none of the other songs stand
out and the remixed degradation of the Kishore Kumar classic “Saara zamana” (from YAARANA) into an item
number is deplorable. Pity – one has always associated Rajesh Roshan with
melodious music, right from Khatta Meetha
and Doosara Aadmi to KNPH, and though Kaabil does not have much scope for music, one wishes he had done
better.
Some of the first reviews of Kaabil mentioned how the screenplay focused more on Rohan than on
Supriya and how the plot was regressive in its portrayal of a rape victim as a
sullied, broken object. One feels compelled to disagree. Apart from the fact
that the film is Hrithik’s home production and was always going to focus more
on him than anyone else, Kaabil is
Rohan’s story, told from his viewpoint, not Supriya’s. Expecting her to have an
equal role would be akin to demanding Radha and Basanti be given as much screen
time as Jai and Veeru. Supriya’s importance lies in the fact that her tragedy
is the fulcrum on which the machine operates, but Rohan was always going to be
the main power switch. (And honestly, did anyone really think the makers were
going to bank as much on Yami Gautam as Hrithik?) As for the “regressive” bit,
that too is a misinterpretation: as Rohan correctly deduces, Supriya gives up
her life not because she is weak, but because she realizes how hard her defenselessness against her abusers is going to hit her husband. Rohan’s silence to
Supriya’s offer of walking away arose not from any kind of ‘disgust’ at his
wife’s ‘tarnished honour’, but more from a husband’s helpless, frustrated rage at not
having been around to protect his wife from her predators.
Kaabil is not flawless – it is not explained how a
dubbing artiste could manage to book an (expensive) apartment in a Mumbai
high-rise, or why Supriya stopped working after marriage, or why the phone
booth owner was always conveniently absent every time Rohan went there to make
a call – but these are minor quibbles. The film definitely packs a punch. Watch
it if you are a Hrithik fanboy/fangirl. Watch it even if you are not. Because
solid old-fashioned entertainment, especially one that does not take recourse
to lionization of criminals or distortion of documented history, is a rarity
from today’s Bollywood.
[
Image courtesy: Google Images]
[
A shorter and slightly altered version of this post can be found here: http://www.tanyamunshi.com/lifestyle/reviews/quite-kaabil-film-review/]
