To my surprise this evening, The Imaginasian theater here in NYC was empty just minutes before the 7pm show. When meself and my three friends sat down, there was only us, plus four other people in the entire theater (a far cry from the last time we met up there, for Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna, when it was SRO). Imagine how thrilled I was to have laid out $13 earlier in the day to buy my ticket online, to be assured of a place at the Thursday night show. Ha ha, it is to laugh, as Bugs Bunny says.
Our collective guess was that people must not have known that the film was already in theaters today (yesterday, if you count North Bergen), plus, The Imaginasian theater’s website has been dormant and useless for a while now. Considering that the cinema is part of the Big (Reliance) – Phoenix chain, one would have hoped that by now, there would be a centralized location on the Web where one can easily find listings, as well as info about upcoming films.
Before the one trailer (for the Yash Raj animated film Roadside Romeo) there was, of all things, an ad for the National Guard, featuring a song by Kid Rock, showing the Guard in scenes intended to evoke Iraq and Afghanistan. “What an interesting place to run such an ad” I thought to myself as my three companions animatedly discussed the much-anticipated Dostana and who looks better as a gay man, John or AB 2.0
So we are told a magical tale, voiced over by Priyanka as we look at comic book images onscreen, and we hear about the churning sea, the chalice of the nectar of immortality, and then, reminiscent of Harry Potter’s beginning, we see a young, then adult, Aditya (Abhishek Bachchan) constantly berated by his nasty stepmother and generally made to feel very unwelcome. As he cries afterward, in his little attic room, a blue rose petal drifts down over the terra cotta tile roofs of Prague, and floats in through the window to comfort him.
This was the first moment in the film where I just could not get beyond the unlikelihood of situation onscreen. How could this strapping, smart, handsome Adi, with a kind nature and good heart, put up with such horrible treatment as a full-grown man, and why? Are these the remarkable extremes to which Indian children will go in their parental devotion?? Why doesn’t he just walk out and make a life for himself?
But he doesn’t.
We’re also introduced to the floridly evil and narcissistic Riz Raizada (Kay Kay Menon) who looks like TinTin dressed by Christian Lacroix (two hairstylists are listed for Mr. Menon in the closing credits; I guess one wasn’t enough to get that flip and those sideburns just right). RR talks and giggles to himself in his subterranean red and black lair, heavy on the Pier One Imports chinoiserie, as he plots to find Drona and the nectar, and become immortal.
Riz’s cover is that of a magician, and he sniffs Adi out when the downtrodden stepson comes to see him perform. Riz has attained a frenetic fan following that would give David Blaine upside-down wet dreams, and his open air performance, with long vertical banners and followers all attired in identical matching hooded cloaks, evoked images of the days that followed the Weimar Republic.
By the way, get a load of the look on the Czech girls’ faces as they flank Abhi in the cheesy, Saawariya-cum-Ticket-to-Hollywood-like opening number, complete with jazz brunch music, and a very questionable gold and rainbow glitter blazer on the very handsome Bachchan son. The ladies look alternatively puzzled at what sort of a music video they’ve signed up for, and at times pleased with their perceived sudden ascent to celluloid stardom. Very funny.
It’s about here when Drona’s bodyguard, Sonia (Priyanka Chopra), zooms (literally) into his life in a banana yellow sports car and saves him from RR’s blow-darting henchmen. Piggy Chops’ character displays an interesting aesthetic here. Gone are the sleek, black Kung Fu-fighting garments of Don. Sonia prefers to swagger about in floor-length, cleavage-revealing brocade jackets, and on her head, a look that resembles a mash-up of a Miss Cleo headwrap and a Sarah Palin do. Her eye make-up is intense and inky, like what Lancome promotes each year as soon as there’s an autumnal chill in the air.
Soon, the action takes them to a Rajasthani palace. See if you don’t find yourself having flashbacks to Eklavya and Jodhaa Akhbar. This is also where Jaya appears.
Ok, here’s the thing: I admire what Goldie Behl was attempting and his having the guts to try (in the online press kit he describes his film as “a world where Amar Chitra Katha meets Frank Miller”). Of AB 2.0 (his friend of many years), Behl says “His inputs were invaluable in fleshing out this grim but innocent hero, his stance, his gait, heavy with the burden he was bearing, speaking very little, with the cynical smile of someone who has grown up in a small span of time.”
But as much as I’m enthralled by beholding 120 minutes plus of a filmi-sized Abhishek Bachchan (sometimes with kajal!), the film plodded along, laboring, lead-footed with the seemingly unending narration by Priyanka Chopra and Jaya Bachchan’s characters. (If I had one rupee for every time Sonia opened with “Bauji used to say“¦.”, I’d be a crorepati.)
By handling this part of the storytelling in this manner, our hero is forced to stand there for extended periods, doing nothing but staring with intensity and listening. I don’t know about Abhi, but I can tell you I certainly grew restless.
Now, counter all that with the vivid look that the film takes on in most scenes (save those in grey, wintery Prague); the dazzling colors and fanciful costume and set design call to mind the disturbing, visually beautiful Tarsem Singh opus The Cell. Except in this case, there’s no menacing Vincent d’Onofrio winding someone’s entrails around a spit like he was playing with a jack-in-the-box. Rather, Drona and Sonia must enter a pink-walled compound and deal with its blue-eye-shadowed inhabitants, who look like they’ve come to a Priscilla, Queen of the Desert costume party.
One couple, two of the four other people in the cinema, left after the interval. At two points during the first half of the movie, the man yawned loudly, and we four burst out laughing. Actually, owing to the empty theater, Sakshi and myself soon fell into a habit of doing our own Hinglish Mystery Science Theater 3000, and dropped occasional, improvised responses into the dialogue before the characters could.
I have faith in Behl and would like to see him try again, with a similar eye and aesthetic, but perhaps a less ambitious story. The lack of chemistry between the lead couple was surprising, especially given their successful paring in Bluffmaster, and the action scenes lacked the palpitation-inducing timing and choreography of, say, The Bourne Ultimatum.
See it or skip it?
If you’re jonesing for two hours of the Bachchan fils, or you’re intrigued to see the design elements of the picture, ok, go.
Abhi smoulders, Kay Kay camps it up with great mirth (not much menace) as he repeatedly intones “Forgive my insouciance”, but the story just drags on to the inevitable climax.
