It is difficult to analyse a film when one has dozed off while watching it. This is what happened to me in the second half of Mira Nair's The Reluctant Fundamentalist (2013). Normally, if I fall asleep during a film, I would be prompted to say that it was boring and I didn't like it. But I can't say that about this film. Even if it slowed down in the second half, ambling towards a predictable ending, it was still an engaging film, making a strong comment on the deeply suspicious and xenophobic times we are living in. The film is based on Mohsin Hamid's novel of the same name, and this was one of the few times that I have picked up a book after watching a film based on it. I'm glad I did that, because although I did enjoy Nair's movie, unfortunately it did not do justice to the thriller-like treatment and gripping pace of Hamid's novel.
Riz Ahmed does a fabulously layered job of playing Changez Khan - the enthusiastic and driven youngster who gradually transforms into an intellectual and a fundamentalist. His coming-of-age story unfolds against the backdrop of the terrorist attacks famously dubbed the "9/11 attacks". He is also able to bring out the anguish felt by an innocent bystander when he is falsely implicated by association for a crime that he neither planned nor executed. We understand Changez's journey in the film, and we also sympathize. But this is very different from the reaction that you feel for Hamid's protagonist in the book.
Nair treats her Changez as a typical "hero", not unlike the angry young man trope of popular Hindi cinema - a young man who has been unfairly wronged and as a result looks for payback. Hamid paints a far more sinister picture of Changez. One does not react with sympathy to the Chagez of the book at all. Instead, one feels a bit unsettled by this slightly dangerous and sly individual, whose next move cannot be predicted.
In the book, Changez narrates his story to an American over tea and a typically Pakistani meal. The entire novel is a monologue and we never really get to know what Changez's American acquaintance is thinking and feeling. His actions and questions are filtered to us only through Changez's narration. Ironically, Changez's confessional style of telling his story does not enable us to empathize with him. In fact, it makes us more suspicious - we never really know if he is telling us the whole truth or not. Two episodes are especially suspect - Changez's relationship with Erica and his encounter with a publisher in Chile.
Nair alters quite a bit for the movie. Erica (played by Kate Hudson) and Changez's love story in the film is completely different from the one in the book. The film is, perhaps, better for this. Erica in the book is touchingly poetic and ethereal, and she would have probably come off as vague in the film. In the film, she has a stronger presence and a voice. The film is as much about her struggle with her past as it is about Changez's struggle with his present. Plus, Nair packs Changez's story within a kidnapping plot which distracts one from the main plot. And I couldn't figure out what Imad Shah and Chandrachur Singh were doing in itty-bitty, inconsequential parts.
Still, I would not recommend one over the other. Both the book and the movie have their own respective strengths and shortcomings. In fact, I would say watch the movie and read the book - in that order. You will definitely enjoy the book, and if you've not had a very heavy meal, will also remain awake to enjoy the movie.
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| Bombay Talkies |
Bombay Talkies, released on May 3, 2013, is being marketed and sold as a tribute to the completion of 100 years of the Mumbai Film Industry. Featuring four short films by an eclectic selection of directors - Karan Johar, Dibakar Bannerjee, Zoya Akhtar and Anurag Kashyap - the "film" focuses on the relationship between cinema and its audience. Before watching the film, I did wonder why only these four film-makers were chosen. Perhaps it was because Johar, Akhtar, Bannerjee and Kashyap seem to represent the creature that Hindi cinema has become in the past few years - a mix of hardcore commercial fare, which even now regurgitates values and methods of representation that sell larger-than-life people and stories; and the more edgy and world cinema-influenced style of film-making that refuses to be user-friendly and escapist.There could be a long debate about whether the four film-makers who participated in this tribute were the right choice or not, but they have definitely made the right films.
The subject of the four films itself is riveting: the magical and mysterious ways in which cinema connects to its audience. No audience of cinema is passive and engages with it in complex ways. The most obvious way in which this happens is, of course, through film stars who quickly become icons. In its most basic form, the relationship between the star and her fan is of adulation and emulation; and in its most extreme form, it can take the form of worship. This is evidenced in the many temples dedicated to male stars like Amitabh Bachchan and Rajanikanth who have achieved a demigod status for their fans. An aspect of this relationship has been explored by Anurag Kashyap in his segment in Bombay Talkies. Vijay (Vineet Kumar Singh) marks a long, patient and extremely frustrating wait in front of Amitabh Bachchan's home only so that he can get Bachchan to take a bite of the murrabba his mother has sent for him in a glass jar. Vijay does finally get his wish, but only after a near-nervous breakdown. The Amitabh Bachchan he meets is far from his on-screen heroic persona, or even his small screen magnanimous and friendly KBC avatar. Instead, Bachchan is a star exasperated and slightly irritable with this persistent fan who wants to touch his feet and feed him murrabba. The star that Vijay (and his father) worship is humanized and the meeting of star and fan is not as grand as one had thought it would be. It is fleeting, momentary, and we are sure Bachchan may not even remember it, but conversely, it is permanently etched onto Vijay's memory. It will certainly become exaggerated and romanticized in his head. What is daily business for the star is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the fan.
If Kashyap's story depicts the reality of the star-fan encounter, then Akhtar's film is all about its fantasy aspect. Vicky (Naman Jain), a young boy, is obssessed with Katrina Kaif and her dance moves. He is not interested in football, and would rather learn dance. But he is only a child, still not aware of how well-slotted and categorized the adult world is, especially in terms of acceptable gender behaviour. So, he does not think anything of dressing up in his sister's clothes, putting on his mother's make-up and heels and swinging his hips to Aaj ki raat from Don. He is almost ready to give up his dream when his father yells at him for his actions, but is saved by Katrina Kaif herself when she comes to him in the form of a fairy godmother. The film touches upon the effect a star's persona has on a child, who is much more gullible to all the glamour. But it is also about how quick we are in labeling children and their ambitions. Vicky's father is thrilled when Vicky pretends that he wants to be a pilot when he grows up, but thrashes him about his dancing. A child's completely harmless ambition is labelled as deviant, and he is threatened into not exploring himself and his dreams.
Dibakar Bannerjee casts Nawauddin Siddiqui as the commonest of common men in his short film. He lives in a cramped chawl with his wife and daughter, and is job-hunting, probably to make ends meet. He keeps a pet emu named Anjali, a relic of a failed business venture, and wants to be a hero for his daughter more that he wants a job. And he gets his chance when he is asked to play a walk-on part in the same frame with Ranbir Kapoor. He is no everyday star-struck fan, but a theatre actor who was quite a hit on stage in his hometown. There is a sense here that he has probably missed the bus to stardom and fame, but he gives this bit-part his everything. All this not for his own three seconds of fame, but to be able to narrate the days events to his wife, and especially his daughter. So that when he comes home at the end of the day tired and jobless, he is still a hero to his family, and he has not lost all his pride. Bannerjee traces a day in the life of a nobody who gets to rub shoulders with the somebodys of the world - famous film-stars who have entire battalions surrounding them, making sure they look like heroes every single minute of their lives.
Finally, I come to Karan Johar's film. It is actually the first short film you will see, and if you are used to normal Johar fare, then this one's sure to blow you away. This is a Karan Johar we've never seen before. A Karan Johar who was busy hiding behind aarti ki thalis, opulent houses and pastel-shade prettiness. This is a hard-hitting and deeply personal film, which reinterprets two golden classics in unexpected ways. The two songs featured here - Ajeeb dastan hai yeh and Lag jaa gale - are given a completely new meaning. I don't want to say much about this film because that would take away from its impact, except that I liked this film the best. And I hope to see more of Karan Johar Version 2.0.
Bombay Talkies is not flawless, and perhaps the greatest flaw here is the length of the films. All the films start out well, but the directors - barring Bannerjee - are in a hurry to tie up loose ends. A little open-endedness, a little uncertainity would have been nice. The acting of the entire cast really lifts the movie above its four individual story lines, as each member of the cast makes the role her/ his own. The four directors have done their assignment, which was I suppose to make a film on, well, films. But each director takes it several notches forward, making Bombay Talkies a fitting tribute to Hindi cinema and its far-reaching influence.
