Starry stories: This week Bollywood lovers can choose between “Halla Bol”and “My Name is Anthony Gonsalves”.
HALLA BOL (At Liberty and other theatres in Delhi and elsewhere)
Faith is a wonderful companion. It helps Rajkumar Santoshi leap across to safety with “Halla Bol”, a film that could have easily been reduced to an art-house show meant for multiplex audiences only. Alternately, it could have degenerated into a rabble-rouser. People would have whistled at every other dialogue, there would have been a sizzling item number thrown in for good measure too. That Santoshi embraces neither, walking the tightrope all along, is a tribut e to the man who believes films are a medium for entertainment. But that entertainment has to be accompanied by a lesson or two.
Often in his movies there is more than a gentle nudge about a society that has its anomalies. Films like “Damini”, “Ghayal”, “Lajja” and “Pukar” come to mind. Here now in “Halla Bol” Santoshi borrows handsomely from “Damini”, a film that moved many with its poignant tale of a rape victim. Here in “Halla Bol” too the protagonist is a witness to a rape and murder. Yet Santoshi is not so much as opening a page from a book read in the past as he is adding a new volume to the series.
Here his hero, Ajay Devgan is a Bollywood superstar, given to the heady ways of the blessed. With intoxicating success, the days of struggle when he used to learn at the feet of his guru – Pankaj Kapur as a theatre sage who was once a sinner – are but a faded memory. It all changes as the hero’s conscience is merely asleep, not dead. As he decides to cooperate with the cops as a witness to the murder, his life changes forever. Throw in the stardom angle, the producers shying away from a man whose films won’t be easily released – shades of real life there? – and political outfits ready to fish in troubled waters, and you have a film that has enough substance to last a couple of hours.
That the film does, keeping the viewer engaged in the proceedings. Occasionally, it lags, needing some crisp editing in parts of the second half. It all ends a bit hastily.
Will save you the end, though. However, do remember that this film is meant to be consumed by the first weekend crowd who like their cinema light but care for a message. With some deliberately loud dialogue and melodrama, it fulfils their needs though it leaves the discerning viewer a shade disappointed. The pathos of “Damini” is not there, nor the tight grip of “Ghayal”. Also mercifully missing is the sermon of “Lajja”. Devgan, as one said, is good without being outstanding while Vidya Balan as his wife does her best not to distract you from the proceedings, leaving the field all clear for Pankaj Kapur to score with his seasoned craft.
A word about Darshan Jariwala who plays a wily politician whose son in involved in the crime. He is understated, and proves that his much talked about performance in “Gandhi, My Father” was no flash in the pan. So, look at your glass. Half full or half empty? Santoshi the activist filmmaker knows where his heart is. Importantly, he keeps his head and comes up with a film that has some masala for the box office. And some food for thought for those who talk films with passion and watch with discretion. MY NAME IS ANTHONY GONSALVES
(M2K, Rohini, and other theatres)
At a time when Bollywood is increasingly wearing the colours of uniformity, this has turned out to be a rare week. If Ashfaque – not to be confused with the unsung freedom fighter – is the hero of Rajkumar Santoshi’s “Halla Bol”, it is Anthony Gonsalves here in the title role in E. Niwas’s film. However, the change is mere cosmetic. Sandpaper away the names of the two heroes. Ignore the Haji Ali song in “Halla Bol” and a few church sequences here, and you realise our dream merchants only skim the surface. There is not even a pretence to sense the different psyches of two minority protagonists beyond mere symbolism.
Result? A film that flatters to deceive. However, why expect something better from a film whose title itself is inspired from a late 1970s’ song in Manmohan Desai’s “Amar Akbar Anthony”? Originality has seldom been Bollywood’s forte, so excuse Niwas too. But what one cannot digest is the complete inability of the director to get the viewers hooked on to the film which starts off as a love story of a struggling actor and an upcoming assistant director. A little into the film, a couple of songs out of the way, and suddenly the film turns an underworld saga.
The hero, you see, is an orphan who has been reared by a baddie who is now wanted by the cops!
As Niwas goes about solving the riddle, the film changes tracks, and as he remembers to bring the love angle back, you long for the exit. Why? Not only does the story move in fits and starts, newcomer Nikhil Dwivedi has as much charisma as a fly on the wall. His dialogue delivery barely passes muster, and as Niwas seeks to build up his persona, you realise the debutant needed more help.
His co-star Amrita Rao, in comparison, is at ease in front of the camera. Pity Nikhil also has to share the screen with seasoned pros like Mithun Chakraborty, Anupam Kher and Pawan Malhotra. Each of these artistes does his bit to perfection though Mithun is a bit wasted as a clergyman who seldom steps beyond the church and hardly ever interacts with any other soul except the hero!
The film could have done with better music, a more amiable hero, and Niwas in his “Shool” form. Alas!
Still want to go to watch this film? Well, all one would say is, “Aaj jaane ki zid na karo”, a Farida Khanum ghazal Anupam Kher so lovingly quotes in the film. NATIONAL TREASURE: BOOK OF SECRETS
(At Satyam, Nehru Place, and other theatres)
Hollywood continues to revel in stereotypes. Basking in the glory of superstars’ charisma, the directors have seldom made an effort to go beyond the tried and the tested. So sequels have often been preferred. “National Treasure:2” is yet another addition to the series.
Trying to capitalise on the undoubted fan following of Nicolas Cage, not to forget Helen ‘Queen’ Mirren, the film offers a brief spell of sustained action. In between there is a prolonged dry spell when the viewers wonder if the director has a trick they have not seen earlier.
That is not to be. Here the story unfolds on predictable lines with the hunt for a buried treasure that leaves Cage too much of a burden to carry. He plays a treasure hunter who stumbles upon a missing page of a diary that incriminates one of his ancestors for the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. The search has wider repercussions all right but the film does not quite go the distance.
Watch “National Treasure:2” if you have forgotten the first. Otherwise, it just spoils the memory.
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