Year after year, Salman Khan wins hearts with his mere appearance on the silver screen. And no matter what else a film has got to offer, everything fades in front of the aura of Salman The Superstar, Salman The Superhuman. However, Kabir Khan's Bajrangi Bhaijaan is not quite in that bracket. It does have Salman, sure, but he's hardly the driving force of the film; contradictory POVs be damned. What shines through more than anything else in this film are two people - Nawazuddin Siddiqui and child artiste Harshaali Malhotra.
"Surat dekhi hai iski," asks Salman's Pavan Kumar Chaturvedi to a policeman in a police station, while trying to explain Munni's (Harshaali) plight. And by the end of this near-three-hour film, the girl's face is among the things that stay with you.
As the film begins, one is treated to the devastatingly beautiful scenes of Kashmir. And you don't want to blink for even a moment, lest a shot is missed. The camera zooms in on a gathering in front of a TV set, somewhere in the mountains of the Sultanpur district in Pakistani Kashmir. Cheering to Shahid Afridi's sixes, a heavily pregnant woman declares that her yet-to-be-born son would be called Shahid.
Six years later, on board the Delhi-Lahore Samjhauta Express, the woman is accompanied by her daughter, Shahida. On their way back to Pakistan after a mannat in a 'Hindustani Dargah', Shahida gets off the train, and is lost. She reaches Kurukshetra, and happens to cross paths with Pavan Kumar Chaturvedi aka Bajrangi, a hard-core devotee of Lord Hanuman. Pavan takes the mute Munni to Delhi, where he lives. After several twists and turns and revelatory moments, Pavan and his landlords, Rasika's (Kareena Kapoor Khan) orthodox Hindu parents, realise that Munni a) is a Muslim, and b) belongs to Pakistan.
Pavan vows to cross streams and borders, metaphorically and otherwise, to reunite the child with her parents in Pakistan. What ensues is a journey filled with much drama, emotion and sorrow. And heartbreak, and tension. And the infallible Nawazuddin Siddiqui.
Utter the word 'acting', and Siddiqui teaches one how to do what. Nawaz holds the frame and makes sure viewers look only at him, even in a scene which has a Salman in it. He steps into the shoes of the famous journalist Chand Nawab, using the same name, and kills it from Frame 1. Post intermission, the actor reiterates the shot that had shot the original Chand Nawab to fame - the rail over bridge, the moving train in the background, Nawab's irritation, et al. And what doesn't require saying is that Siddiqui gets it perfect, even better than probably the real Chand Nawab.
To Salman, then. In Bajrangi Bhaijaan, apart from just being Salman Khan on screen, Salman acts. Khan has tears running down his cheeks, and emotes through his eyes. And he is refreshingly not the typical dude ready to throw punches in the air at any moment. On the contrary, he is the antithesis of a typical Salman Khan character; he is modest, peaceful and bows down even when he spots a monkey. Kareena, for her part, doesn't have much to do in this film. She plays Pavan's ladylove well, but hardly makes an impact.
Speaking of impact, the only other actor who manages to match Nawaz in the film is Harshaali. Her eyes are a dagger through the heart. She makes the viewer smile and cry with equal ease. And she does it without speaking a single word in Bajrangi Bhaijaan.
However, at a quarter-short-of-three hours, the film feels quite long, despite Salman. The first half slogs by, and the numerous songs don't help the pace of the film. It is only after the intermission that Bajrangi Bhaijaan picks up speed. The cinematography is par excellence. The valleys of Kashmir are breathtaking. From the verdant green of the hills to the crystal clear streams, Aseem Mishra's camera leaves out nothing. Pritam's music is a medley of tracks ranging from peppy to soulful numbers to qawwalis. Zindagi Kuch Toh Bata deserves a special mention.
In all, Bajrangi Bhaijaan works for both a Salman fan and a non-fan. The film is essentially make-believe, but you want to believe. Therefore, even as Pakistan and India violate ceasefire and fire mortar shells at each other, somewhere you want to believe that a Bajrangi can cross borders for love.
My Rating & Advice :
...Don't forget to take your handkerchief along.
Cheers !
Jeetendra AKA The Bunnyman
...Don't forget to take your handkerchief along.Cheers !
Jeetendra AKA The Bunnyman
Nice one.. but i feel in d end dey overdid it
ReplyDeleteyes the editing cud have been better...but if ur referring to the EQ ...den I personally think they've done a superb job...
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