Friday evening, while we were watching a special screening of 'Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna' at the Inox Multiplex at Nariman Point, a group of police personnel walked into the hall with sniffer dogs for a random security check that lasted some 15 minutes. A representative of the Multiplex accompanied them and tried to assure us that this was merely an additional security measure. But for the faint-hearted (like yours truly) this entire exercise proved unnerving and it was difficult to concentrate on the film for the first few minutes after the interval.
For an avid movie buff, there is no environment more secure than a darkened cinema hall. But in the violent times we live in, bomb scares and heightened security are becoming a part of everyday reality and cinema-viewing isn't going to remain the pleasurable sojourn into the dark that it used to be. And yet, if one actually thinks a little deeper, cinema is a medium for the indulgence of the rich. People who live in places plagued with violence, hunger, deprivation and merely struggling to survive from one day to another, could scarcely drown their sorrows in the movies (much as we'd like to believe in the 'opium of the masses' theory). Fake bombs exploding on screen are no match for the real one's going off all over the world every other day. Aliens attacking the planet are passé – we are watching rich nations live out their imperialist aspirations on live television with the tacit approval of a majority of the 'first' world. The 'happily ever after' maxim too becomes meaningless in times when no one knows how long 'ever after' is going to last.
And then there's a film that tries to persuade us to believe that there's nothing more to life that 'Falling in Love' – which by the way, is the name of another film starring Robert De Niro and Meryl Streep with a plot suspiciously similar to Karan Johar's third film, 'Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna'. The good news, if any, about Johar's latest mega-mix, is that it sheds a bit of the regressive attitude his first two films brazenly flaunted despite his own claim to 'modern' cinema. For instance there's a career woman who's unapologetic about pursuing her ambition and mercifully, no 'Karva Chauth' songs and long drawn sangeet ceremonies.
Instead, 'KANK' is about a cantankerous ex-footballer Dev (Shah Rukh Khan, in a performance that makes his K...K...K...Kiran act seem sober) and his inexplicable love affair with schoolteacher Maya (Rani Mukherjee). Both are already married; he to a super-achiever fashion magazine editor Ria (Preity Zinta), she to a doting PR consultant, Rishi (Abhishek Bachchan). And this is the supposed progressive leap Johar takes in presenting his version of 'mature' love – an extra-marital relationship and the incompatibility of married couples in modern times (in New York, mind you, where there isn't any societal sanction against such situations).
But like all his earlier works as director and producer, his obsession with grandeur overshadows the content of the film and hence every scene unnecessarily works itself to climactic proportions. As for the narrative, everything is laid out too neatly – including the tension and the break-up and the estranged spouses coming together to reunite the lovers in the end at a trains station (where else??).
Sure, there needn't be a logical reason for marriages going sour. But when two people bitter about their past experiences come together to try and resolve their respective marriages and then do the most predictable thing – spend too much time with each other instead – the plot immediately begins to go awry. Dev is bitter about Ria's success and blames her for neglecting him and their son, but his own behaviour with Arjun (the little boy who prefers the violin to football) is obnoxious, to say the least. Similarly, Maya is visibly cold towards Rishi, despite his desperate efforts to charm and woo her in every possible way – and yet she instantly cosies up with Dev (perhaps she prefers rude, self-absorbed men to doting ones). The matter of sexual incompatibility is hinted at, but never elaborated on. Isn't it a little ironic that Maya, who is unable to share any intimacy with her husband teaches Dev how to seduce his wife!
Strangely, the two spouses actually seem like nice people desperately trying to make their respective marriages work, while the protagonists only claim to want to salvage their relationships and then promptly run into each other's arms. When the duo realises they're in love with each other, they go off on inexplicable guilt trips instead of taking the relationship further – and then find their marriages wrecked in identical ways. What's worse, they continue living apart as if 'paying for their sins'.
If the only relationship that exudes any warmth or chemistry is between Rishi and his philanderer father 'sexy' Sam (Amitabh Bachchan cut loose) – can you imagine the tragedy of this film? So, one has to derive the little pleasure there is, from Sam's naughty escapades (occasionally, way over the top), New York's now predictable sights (albeit well-captured by cinematographer Anil Mehta through some lively, colourful compositions), a couple of catchy numbers from Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy (notably "Mitwa") and the film's only likeable performance – that of Abhishek Bachchan as the charming man who just doesn't know how to please his stuck-up wife (and this is the opinion of a hardcore Shah Rukh fan who rarely notices other actors in the same frame!).
Meanwhile, although marital infidelity isn't a very popular subject in Hindi cinema, one could easily turn to far more substantial films such as 'Silsila', 'Arth' and 'Drishti' for a more authentic and sensitive take. Johar, on the other hand, is obviously convinced about the profundity of his film – else why would he spend 22 reels and over three long hours to dish out such a shallow saga?
Deepa Gumaste
