THREE CLASSICS AND ‘KRRISH’

Originally, I was planning to write a review of ‘Krrish’ as a stand-alone piece. But firstly, apart from Hrithik Roshan’s dedicated performance and some decent special effects, there really isn’t much to write about the film. So much so, even my four-year-old daughter wasn’t as thrilled by it as she was by ‘Koi Mil Gaya’ three years ago (her first introduction to cinema, which she thoroughly enjoyed). For her, there was altogether too much confusion about Rohit and Krishna and Krrish and then an older-looking Rohit with a funny wig. It’s taken her a couple of days to resolve the muddle in her head.

At a time when Hindi cinema is waking up to the reality of crisp screenplays, Rakesh Roshan sticks to his old school logic of trying to make the perfect three-hour long entertainer with measured doses of everything he thinks an audience wants – action, emotion, romance, song-and-dance and foreign locations. Apart from which, if you’ve seen films like ‘Spiderman’, ‘Batman’, ‘Matrix’ etc. then there’s nothing you haven’t already seen in ‘Krrish’. Because the superhero element in the second half of the film is totally derived from its Hollywood predecessors (there are elements from ‘Minority Report’ and ‘Paycheck’ as well!). So at best you can say this is a ‘first’ for Hindi cinema.

As for the rest, there’s a largely unconvincing story about Krishna’s grandmother (Rekha, dressed every bit like a filmi grandmother and sportingly trying to play the part) keeping him away from civilization to hide his exceptional powers. There are the most tackily handled product endorsements (second only to ‘Viruddh’). There’s a bunch of irritating youngsters who come to the same picturesque hill town where Krishna lives, for a camp led by Punit Issar who is a terrible actor and unfortunately gets far too much screen time. Then there’s the heroine Priya (Priyanka Chopra) who falls from the skies (literally!) into the hero’s arms.

Chopra’s insufferable presence in this film only proves my belief that a Miss India crown cannot and should not be a ticket to an acting career. In fact, as a result of her inadequacies (aided by Rajesh Roshan’s unmelodious score), Krishna’s romance with her seems far too long-drawn and jarring. And yet, Hrithik manages to rise above the totally mediocre screenplay and his equally inept co-star in a few scenes -- particularly one Yash Chopra-type dialogue in the Singapore sequences which I rate among the few high points of the film.

Then there is the matter of Naseeruddin Shah trying to do his own version of ‘Mogambo khush hua’ and hamming his way through the part of a comic-book villain. Unfortunately, because the script meanders so much, his role is spaced out hopelessly over the two halves of the film. One had thought that the battle of wits between two wonderful actors – Naseer and Hrithik -- would be a delight to watch. It turns out to be quite a damp squib and the climax is a let-down.

I believe ‘Krrish’ has received a bumper opening and is likely to smash box-office records. Which is good news for just one reason -- a man called Hrithik Roshan. His sincerity and commitment to every film he does is more than evident in ‘Krrish’ and it’s he alone who makes his father’s otherwise unimaginative sequel worth a watch.

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The Katha Centre for Film Studies is organising a five-day long Film Festival at the Alliance Francais in Mumbai this week. In a city starved for regular screenings of international cinema, this Festival comes as a boon – never mind if the space chosen is far too crammed for a hungry audience. Today (Monday, June 26th) the Festival opened with three period films from three different parts of the world, each a delight for hardcore movie buffs.

The first was John Ford’s 1939 film, ‘Young Mr. Lincoln’, apparently a largely fictionalised account of Abraham Lincoln’s younger days (brilliantly essayed by Henry Fonda with a great nose job) as a self-taught, small-town man from Illinois who jumps into the legal profession without any formal education and emerges successful in a tricky murder case. It is an all-American classic eulogising not just Lincoln the man, but the values of justice, liberty and equality in true Hollywood style. For an outsider, it also gives a good sense of the period in which Lincoln lived and the crudity (bordering on barbarism) of the settlers in the young nation.

While the film’s first half establishes the quick-witted, calm and sophisticated personality of Lincoln, the second is taken up by the trial of the Clay brothers whom he defends against all odds. The courtroom drama has an edge-of-the-seat thriller quality to it, with just the right dash of comic relief. The twist in the end is the ideal cornerstone for the legend of Abraham Lincoln – the mark of a man who confidently takes on his far more experienced legal adversary by saying, “I may not know much of law, but I know what’s right and what’s wrong…” when the latter asks Mrs. Clay to confess which of her two sons committed the murder.

The second film was ‘The Flowers of St. Francis’ (1950), a story about the simplicity of faith, made by neo-realist filmmaker Roberto Rossellini in post-war Italy. Set in the 13th century, it depicts several vignettes from the life of St. Francis of Assisi who gave up a life of material comfort to travel with his motley group of followers (played by real monks) and spread the word of God. The amazing thing about this film which advocates living in primordial minimalism is its marvellous use of slapstick humour.

The third screening was another period piece from Japan, ‘Ugetsu Monogatari’ (1953) directed by Kenji Mizoguchi, another fable that uses surrealism to narrate the tale of two ambitious men living in violent times – one a potter who dreams of making pots of money and his brother who wants to become a famous samurai at any cost. The two men set off in search of fame and fortune against the better judgment of their wives and in the process, destroy not just themselves, but their loyal better halves. Even on a scratchy print with faded sub-titles, the film’s visual narrative has a lyrical quality to it. For someone who hasn’t seen much of Japanese cinema beyond Kurosawa and Ozu, Mizoguchi’s classic came as another revelation of the country’s rich cinematic tradition.

Deepa Gumaste