Much has been talked about of SRK’s split with Farah Khan (heck, SRK even did one of his famous quivering eyebrows teary-eyed act on Koffee with Karan that predictably had Karan sniffing and shedding a few tears of his own – one of the more nauseating television acts I have had the misfortune of seeing), but if all of Farah’s future films are going to be scripted / lifted by her husband, then SRK has probably done the right thing. Kitsch as they might be, MHN and OSO were smart, and had some genuinely funny moments. TMK has (maybe) one LOL moment, and predictably this is a scene without Akshay Kumar in it. But then, even SRK could not have salvaged TMK. SRK definitely has the last laugh here.
The first 10 minutes are fun, and that is about it. The next 2.5 hours leave you reeling with the agony of watching an impossibly painful movie. Don’t believe me? Take one of those mindless Priyadarsan remakes (Hungama, Hulchul etc); multiply the inanity and screaming by around 75%, and substitute Paresh Rawal (who for all his faults can definitely conjure up at least a grin in an hour) with a bunch of un-funny non-actors – you would pretty much get something similar to TMK.
For a non-actor, Akshay Kumar has had a pretty good run at Bollywood. However, he needs to select his scripts with better care. A smart-aleck act and a gummy smile can only be tolerated so far; a few slick action flicks are the want of the day. Frankly, AK is intolerable in TMK.
Katrina Kaif looks hot, and acts as if she is acting badly – not that she has to try too hard. However, all is forgiven with the Sheila Ki Jawani number. Akshaye Khanna hams it up to the hilt; he makes the most of what is really a role meant for Johny Lever. Arya Babbar looks interesting. The rest of the cast deserve to be spoken about (nay abused) in the filthiest of epithets.
Farah Khan has clearly lost her edge; perhaps she cannot do a film that is not a Bollywood spoof. At the very least, she should desist from any future collaboration with her husband (for films!), and write her own scripts. Eating humble pie and teaming up with SRK again would probably be a terrific idea as well.
Verdict: DO.NOT.WATCH.
Showing posts with label Akshay Kumar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Akshay Kumar. Show all posts
Monday, January 10, 2011
Saturday, May 31, 2008
On My Playlist
Kahin To Hogi Woh... from 'Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na', a love ballad sung by newcomer Rashid Ali (where on earth does ARR find all these awesome new singers?), and Vasundhara Das who finally breaks out of the item number rut she's been stuck in for a while. My gut tells me this is destined to be the new-age Pehla Nasha... if its picturized well.
Kabhi Kabhi Aditi Zindagi... from 'Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na' has super-hit written all over it; most ARR numbers require a lot of listening to before you get to like it. Kabhi Kabhi Aditi Zindagi..., like the other insta-ditty from ARR Enrendrum Punnagai... from 'Alaipayuthey', is mind-bogglingly addictive. ARR ought to let down his hair and indulge in these hip numbers more often; he's been stuck in the 'Swades' and 'Jodhaa Akbar' mode for a while now (not that I don't enjoy those either, 'Yeh Jo Des Hai Tera' and 'Khwaja Mere Khwaja' are amongst my favorite ARR songs). Rashid Ali does a repeat here, and he's got a lot to thank ARR for.
Meherbaan from 'Ada' makes it ARR thrice in a row. ARR singing is increasingly becoming more and more common unlike say, 5 years ago, and it is quite possible that I might get tired of listening to him croon song after song. Right now, however, his high-pitched, slightly nasal voice is undiluted music to my ears, so much that I even listen to the likes of the 'Jaagenge...' from 'Bose: The Forgotten Hero' (and that turned out to be quite an inspired choice of the name, I have to say!). Btw, this is such an awesome album, and so is 'Tehzeeb', never mind their status at the B.O.
Mast Kalandar from 'Hey Baby' is a wild song, totally. The nasal, slightly whiny voice of the main singer takes nothing away from the sheer energy of this number. Even the fact that the picturization of the song was no great shakes (despite the presence of Akshay and SRK) couldn't prevent this one from busting the charts.
Engu Ninnu Vanna from 'Calcutta News' is a very nice song, albeit a little old-fashioned. Madhu Balakrishnan has made a career for himself on the nostalgia factor of Keralites, and he does the same here (and this is not taking away from his considerable singing abilities at all). Veteran Chitra easily dominates the song though. The video sucks big time, with Dileep trying hard to pass off as an intellectual, but only succeeding in trying to look like a bad hair gel commercial.
Hawa Sun Hawa from 'Ada' is the typical Rahman song that takes ages to get used to, but once you do the tune refuses to get out of your head. Its easily one of the better duets Sonu and Alka have sung together. Somehow, the tune reminds me of the neglected Khamoshiyaan ditty from 'One Two ka Four', but hey that could just be me.
Hare Raam Hare Raam from 'Bhool Bulaiyya' is probably the most infectious track in the past few years. Even my horror at what old Priyan had done to poor, old-fashioned Manichitrathazhu couldn't stop me from nodding my head to the rollicking beat of this one. Akshay, for all his faults as an actor, is extremely good at most song picturizations, and he doesn't put a foot wrong here.
Kabhi Kabhi Aditi Zindagi... from 'Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na' has super-hit written all over it; most ARR numbers require a lot of listening to before you get to like it. Kabhi Kabhi Aditi Zindagi..., like the other insta-ditty from ARR Enrendrum Punnagai... from 'Alaipayuthey', is mind-bogglingly addictive. ARR ought to let down his hair and indulge in these hip numbers more often; he's been stuck in the 'Swades' and 'Jodhaa Akbar' mode for a while now (not that I don't enjoy those either, 'Yeh Jo Des Hai Tera' and 'Khwaja Mere Khwaja' are amongst my favorite ARR songs). Rashid Ali does a repeat here, and he's got a lot to thank ARR for.
Meherbaan from 'Ada' makes it ARR thrice in a row. ARR singing is increasingly becoming more and more common unlike say, 5 years ago, and it is quite possible that I might get tired of listening to him croon song after song. Right now, however, his high-pitched, slightly nasal voice is undiluted music to my ears, so much that I even listen to the likes of the 'Jaagenge...' from 'Bose: The Forgotten Hero' (and that turned out to be quite an inspired choice of the name, I have to say!). Btw, this is such an awesome album, and so is 'Tehzeeb', never mind their status at the B.O.
Mast Kalandar from 'Hey Baby' is a wild song, totally. The nasal, slightly whiny voice of the main singer takes nothing away from the sheer energy of this number. Even the fact that the picturization of the song was no great shakes (despite the presence of Akshay and SRK) couldn't prevent this one from busting the charts.
Engu Ninnu Vanna from 'Calcutta News' is a very nice song, albeit a little old-fashioned. Madhu Balakrishnan has made a career for himself on the nostalgia factor of Keralites, and he does the same here (and this is not taking away from his considerable singing abilities at all). Veteran Chitra easily dominates the song though. The video sucks big time, with Dileep trying hard to pass off as an intellectual, but only succeeding in trying to look like a bad hair gel commercial.
Hawa Sun Hawa from 'Ada' is the typical Rahman song that takes ages to get used to, but once you do the tune refuses to get out of your head. Its easily one of the better duets Sonu and Alka have sung together. Somehow, the tune reminds me of the neglected Khamoshiyaan ditty from 'One Two ka Four', but hey that could just be me.
Hare Raam Hare Raam from 'Bhool Bulaiyya' is probably the most infectious track in the past few years. Even my horror at what old Priyan had done to poor, old-fashioned Manichitrathazhu couldn't stop me from nodding my head to the rollicking beat of this one. Akshay, for all his faults as an actor, is extremely good at most song picturizations, and he doesn't put a foot wrong here.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Manichithrathazhu: The Unmaking of a Classic
I just had to watch 'Bhool Bhulaiyya', Priyadarshan's psychological take on the neo-classic 'Manichithrathazhu', even if only to criticize. In many ways, it is much more ghastly than 'Chandramukhi', for this movie at least had the excuse that it had to be tailored to suit the Rajni persona (and in the bargain, throw any semblance of logic out of the window. Can't imagine why this line of thought seems to have stuck with all Rajni directors. Wasn't Dalapathy good and entertaining cinema?). With 'Bhool Bhulaiyya', Priyan has no such excuses, since he fails to retain even a glimmer of the spirit of the original despite investing in scene-by-scene remake. This, despite him being part of the original's crew.
In both remakes - and at this stage, it seems prudent to remove Chandramukhi from the comparisons for the same 'excuse' mentioned above - subtlety seems to be a big no-no. Nuances from the original - which is one of the most important reasons why it is regarded as a classic by the current generation - are discarded with disdain. Instead, we have uniformly bad acting - even from the normally dependable Paresh Rawal and Rajpal Yadav, who really ought to take a break from the buffoonery they have been up to in their recent outings.
Consider this: in 'Manichithrathazhu', there is a strong hint that Nakul (Suresh Gopi) is a neglectful husband - sample the scene where Ganga asks Nakul to bed, and he excuses himself citing the excuse that he has work to attend to. In fact, the lovely Varuvanillarumee Vijanamam Ee Vazhiyil number strongly indicates that Nakul might even be impotent ( a fact that is only indicated at in the various remakes by Prabhu's nuanced performance). Thus there is a strong foundation laid for the possibility that Ganga is neglected, bored out of her wits, and thus particularly vulnerable and empathetic to the legend of Nagavalli. Instead, here we have Shiney Ahuja all the time grinning like an idiot, and happily nuzzling a rather plump Vidya Balan during an incoveniently placed duet.
And then, there are scenes where Amisha simpers (in that excruciatingly teeth-grating way that only she can) about the rat poison left oh-so conveniently in the kitchen - much like in the Tamil version, where we have 10 laborers literally groaning and moaning to carry the bed across the corridor. I am not sure why the directors feel that Tamil and/or Hindi audiences need such dumbing-down - after all, these are the same audiences that made superhits of a 'Thevar Magan', a 'Lagaan' and a 'TZP'. Labels like 'hey, there's poison in the kitchen' and 'this bed, that the possessed heroine will later lift, is so darned heavy' are juvenile and overkill - perhaps expected of P.Vasu, who wouldn't recognize good cinema if it bit him on his plagiarizing ass, but certainly not of Priyan who has made a lot of good films in the past.
Obviously, neither Jyothika nor Vidya are a match for Shobhana, who delivers a career-defining, knockout performance in the original. Jyothika overacts, to much merriment, and resorts to inane grins, light on the eyes etc to at least frighten the kids. Vidya Balan tries hard, though she's obviously watched DVDs of 'Manichithrathazhu' one too many times (never more obvious than in the scene where you can tell she's just yearning to pick up that bed)! Shobhana's expressions in the crucial scenes are phenomenal - attributable to bad/strange acting on first watch even if you notice the change of expression, but bang-on upon subsequent viewing. The most famous scenes, of course, are the ones with the psychiatrist displaying the jewelery with a manic fervor, the one at the temple where the psychiatrist deliberately tries to aggravate her, and then the by-now-classic scene with the lifting of the bed. Shobhana, despite not doing much of consequence after Manichitrathazhu, is a treeat to watch in what must rank as one of the greatest performances in the history of Indian cinema.
The psychiatrist is the main commercial ingredient of the movie - he provides comic relief, and acts as the main catalyst. At the risk of sounding biased, I just cannot imagine anyone other than Mohanlal in this role. His antics, like the one where he shakes his leg incredulously to check the sound of the anklet is coming from his leg, or the where he gazes lecherously at the portrait of the dancer, have by now been mimicked successfully by both Rajni and Akshay; however, most of these gestures were improvised by Mohanlal on the sets (does somebody have the link to the interview where Fazil said this?). While Rajni's role is ... well, more or less a typical Rajni role, Akshya Kumar copies Mohanlal's expresssions, body language and posture completely. He does a pretty decent job, but the magic is clearly not there.
The music of Manichitrathazhu was very important too, since the the alternate persona was a dancer-singer clearly well-versed with music; she sang and danced at night, after all. The Pazhamthamizh pattu number (conveniently ditched in the remakes, as the timing of the song placement was slightly awry) was not just a song randomly inserted into a scene; it was clearly the the doctor trying to soothe the alternate persona by singing a song in the same raaga as that of the one that the dancer dances to at night (the doctor hears this earlier, and hence he knows the song, so that loophole is closed as well).
I can keep going on and on; the original was a movie where all loopholes were plugged, and had several nuances/hints placed, only to tie them all up toward the end. Only several watches of the movie help you understand all of this. With the remakes,its difficult to sit through the movie even once - wild dogs couldn't drag me to a second screening.
In both remakes - and at this stage, it seems prudent to remove Chandramukhi from the comparisons for the same 'excuse' mentioned above - subtlety seems to be a big no-no. Nuances from the original - which is one of the most important reasons why it is regarded as a classic by the current generation - are discarded with disdain. Instead, we have uniformly bad acting - even from the normally dependable Paresh Rawal and Rajpal Yadav, who really ought to take a break from the buffoonery they have been up to in their recent outings.
Consider this: in 'Manichithrathazhu', there is a strong hint that Nakul (Suresh Gopi) is a neglectful husband - sample the scene where Ganga asks Nakul to bed, and he excuses himself citing the excuse that he has work to attend to. In fact, the lovely Varuvanillarumee Vijanamam Ee Vazhiyil number strongly indicates that Nakul might even be impotent ( a fact that is only indicated at in the various remakes by Prabhu's nuanced performance). Thus there is a strong foundation laid for the possibility that Ganga is neglected, bored out of her wits, and thus particularly vulnerable and empathetic to the legend of Nagavalli. Instead, here we have Shiney Ahuja all the time grinning like an idiot, and happily nuzzling a rather plump Vidya Balan during an incoveniently placed duet.
And then, there are scenes where Amisha simpers (in that excruciatingly teeth-grating way that only she can) about the rat poison left oh-so conveniently in the kitchen - much like in the Tamil version, where we have 10 laborers literally groaning and moaning to carry the bed across the corridor. I am not sure why the directors feel that Tamil and/or Hindi audiences need such dumbing-down - after all, these are the same audiences that made superhits of a 'Thevar Magan', a 'Lagaan' and a 'TZP'. Labels like 'hey, there's poison in the kitchen' and 'this bed, that the possessed heroine will later lift, is so darned heavy' are juvenile and overkill - perhaps expected of P.Vasu, who wouldn't recognize good cinema if it bit him on his plagiarizing ass, but certainly not of Priyan who has made a lot of good films in the past.
Obviously, neither Jyothika nor Vidya are a match for Shobhana, who delivers a career-defining, knockout performance in the original. Jyothika overacts, to much merriment, and resorts to inane grins, light on the eyes etc to at least frighten the kids. Vidya Balan tries hard, though she's obviously watched DVDs of 'Manichithrathazhu' one too many times (never more obvious than in the scene where you can tell she's just yearning to pick up that bed)! Shobhana's expressions in the crucial scenes are phenomenal - attributable to bad/strange acting on first watch even if you notice the change of expression, but bang-on upon subsequent viewing. The most famous scenes, of course, are the ones with the psychiatrist displaying the jewelery with a manic fervor, the one at the temple where the psychiatrist deliberately tries to aggravate her, and then the by-now-classic scene with the lifting of the bed. Shobhana, despite not doing much of consequence after Manichitrathazhu, is a treeat to watch in what must rank as one of the greatest performances in the history of Indian cinema.
The psychiatrist is the main commercial ingredient of the movie - he provides comic relief, and acts as the main catalyst. At the risk of sounding biased, I just cannot imagine anyone other than Mohanlal in this role. His antics, like the one where he shakes his leg incredulously to check the sound of the anklet is coming from his leg, or the where he gazes lecherously at the portrait of the dancer, have by now been mimicked successfully by both Rajni and Akshay; however, most of these gestures were improvised by Mohanlal on the sets (does somebody have the link to the interview where Fazil said this?). While Rajni's role is ... well, more or less a typical Rajni role, Akshya Kumar copies Mohanlal's expresssions, body language and posture completely. He does a pretty decent job, but the magic is clearly not there.
The music of Manichitrathazhu was very important too, since the the alternate persona was a dancer-singer clearly well-versed with music; she sang and danced at night, after all. The Pazhamthamizh pattu number (conveniently ditched in the remakes, as the timing of the song placement was slightly awry) was not just a song randomly inserted into a scene; it was clearly the the doctor trying to soothe the alternate persona by singing a song in the same raaga as that of the one that the dancer dances to at night (the doctor hears this earlier, and hence he knows the song, so that loophole is closed as well).
I can keep going on and on; the original was a movie where all loopholes were plugged, and had several nuances/hints placed, only to tie them all up toward the end. Only several watches of the movie help you understand all of this. With the remakes,its difficult to sit through the movie even once - wild dogs couldn't drag me to a second screening.
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