Billu (2009)

Billu-title

So. If you are considering a leap onto the “original is best” Malayalam bandwagon and insist that I must see Kadha Parayumbol, please take a moment, breathe, perhaps go make a cup of tea instead. I’m perfectly happy with this film! What makes Billu work so well for me is that I have a high degree of awareness and appreciation of Shah Rukh’s career so the references and sly jabs at and by SRK really resonate. I wouldn’t have that to the same extent with a different regional cast, even if it is Mammootty in the big star role.

Priyadarshan directs a deceptively simple slice of life drama. Billu (Irrfan, in no surname mode) is a barber in picturesque Budbuda. Sahir Khan (Shah Rukh Khan in King Khan mode) is a massive movie star. Sahir suggests Budbuda as the location for the village scenes in his current project. Filming in the village was essential to the story as otherwise how would the Martian brother find his long lost sibling who was wearing a matching locket that beeped. I liked the interplay of real life and filmidom, in scenes when Sahir was enduring the plot narration, or when the villagers watched the shooting as though they were seeing life on Mars.

Mayhem erupts in Budbuda once the villagers find out that Billu and Sahir were childhood friends. Everyone wants to get an autograph, to get their brush with fame, and all the bigwigs demand that Billu introduce them to Sahir. But Billu repeatedly dodges the issue, even when his wife Bindiya (Lara Dutta) and annoying kids keep asking. Eventually the villagers start to believe he lied and accuse him of defrauding them of the gifts they had willingly pressed upon him.

Irrfan relies on his slightly oddball, rumpled, everyman persona for Billu and it works a treat. He comes across as good hearted but a little cynical, proud in himself but overwhelmed by the difference in status between himself and Sahir. Billu has told his family of a childhood friendship with Sahir, but is totally unprepared for how his village reacts when they find out. He is reluctant to contact Sahir, citing bygone time and the difference in their positions. But Billu’s inarticulate objections fall on fallow ground. It’s interesting that when Billu was negotiating with the school or others he could be quite glib, if apparently simple. Billu did go to the shooting and marvelled at the spectacle of Kareena’s duckface in Marjaani along with everyone else, but he flubbed all opportunities to speak to Sahir. I think he just wanted fate to intervene and take care of the logistics so he could see his mate without forcing himself upon Sahir.

Lara Dutta is beautiful but not too filmi glam as Bindiya. I could feel her frustration, not at being poor, but at having to be subservient and cop all the crap that comes with being seen as a beggar. Bindiya dreams of meeting Sahir and of the benefits that knowing a big star could give her family, but isn’t greedy. She just knows how things are when you’re the outsiders, and wants to take opportunities where they arise. Bindiya obviously thinks the world of Billu and it took a lot for her to actually ask him if his friendship was real. I thought it said a lot that there was no rancour in the conversation, and Billu still walked her to the school to hear Sahir speak. They had a solid relationship and as more of their backstory was revealed I had more appreciation for her.

Sahir is often absent from the action, but his presence permeates everything. I like SRK as a bad guy, and as a hero, but I especially like him as a hero who still has a healthy reservoir of cynicism alongside the cheesy entertainer reflexes (I also loved OSO). I enjoyed his character’s observations on controversy, and expectations audiences have, and his little encounters with Chaubey the guesthouse manager. Some dialogue sounded very similar to things Shah Rukh has said himself so I found the added element which may or may not be a reflection of his own views very appealing. Apart from That Speech he keeps Sahil quite sensible and vaguely amused by all the shenanigans unfolding around him, with occasional flashes of crankiness that may be caused by chafing from all the bedazzled outfits.

Sahir’s moment with Billu is quite beautiful, and so much better than the big build up that preceded it. It’s a performance I enjoy both for the overt manifestation of star power and the glimpse under the glossy veneer, and the expert manipulation by a master of crowd pleasing.

Shah Rukh’s own career is referenced extensively in posters on village walls, old movie stills and promo pictures, a montage celebrating Sahir’s stardom. The film within a film device also allowed some spectacularly silly and blinged out song concepts as they didn’t have to fit in with the plot as such, and could also use a parade of Shah Rukh’s recent-ish heroines. In every song there is a moment when he gets a goofy grin and he can’t help uncle dancing a bit despite the choreographers’ best efforts. I love it. Plus I think Evil Anthony makes an appearance.

Each shot serves to express the focal character’s universe, from set design to lighting to the framing. It’s a pleasure just to look at this film. Pritam made Billu’s songs and background music more organic than the filmi stuff, and they were accompanied by lush “real world” visuals lovingly captured by V Manikandan.

“Jaaun Kahan” is a bewildered meditation, while “Khudaya Khair” is a sweetly romantic dream that could star either your husband or Sahir Khan, mood depending. The village setting was glorious and while I’m pretty sure it was in Tamil Nadu I chose not to overthink the geography/language mash up.

The standouts in the support cast were Asrani as Naubat Chacha, a rare voice of moderation and always seeing Billu’s side, and both Om Puri and Manoj Joshi throwing their weight around as self-important and self-proclaimed VIPs. I also liked Rasika Joshi as the long suffering principal who turned out to be not such a bad old stick.

Would this film make you a Shah Rukh fan if you weren’t one already? Maybe not. But it is a departure from his Rahul shtick and there is enough of a gleam in his eye and a quirk to those famous eyebrows to make me think he had a bit of fun playing with his own image. And I’m a sucker for both sublime and ridiculous visuals. 4 stars!

Mardaani

Mardaani

Mardaani is a crime drama from director Pradeep Sarkar and writer Gopi Puthran based around the investigation of a drug smuggling business and child trafficking ring in India. What makes it rather more unusual is that the cop chasing after the bad guys isn’t the usual rough, tough and unbeatable hero, but instead is the equally rough and tough but rather more pragmatically sensible Rani Mukerjee. As Senior Inspector Shivani Shivaji Roy, Rani takes on a crime boss and his gang when a young street vendor she has previously rescued goes missing. It’s a straight police procedural drama for most of the film but does veer off into overly melodramatic action for the last 15 minutes or so, presumably to add more commercial appeal. However Rani is superb, Tahir Raj Bhasin is excellent as the villain of the piece and overall the film works as an action thriller that is more realistic than most.

The film opens with the apprehension of a criminal by Mumbai’s Crime Branch, and the raid and subsequent capture nicely illustrate the rapport Inspector Shivani has with her team and the respect they have for her. They all joke together on the way to the raid but police officers Jafar and Morey still obey every order without question once the action begins. Dressed in a sari and noticeably understated make-up, Shivani is a cop who follows the rules when necessary, but also knows just how far rules can be bent without causing any visible stretch marks. She’s equally capable whether she’s on duty as a police officer, or at home looking after her family and is smart enough to reason her way through a case rather than bludgeoning her way to a result. The end product is a more realistic police officer and a more probable investigative team, at least as far as the world of cinema is concerned.

Shivani is married to Dr Bikram Roy (Jisshu Sengupta) and the couple look after her orphaned niece Meera (Avneet Kaur), giving Shivani a realistic and stable home life as well as illustrating that she is more than just a kick-arse cop with excellent multi-tasking skills. The person Shivani seems to care about most though is Pyaari (Priyanka Sharma), a girl Shivani rescued and placed in an orphanage and school after Pyaari’s uncle tried to sell her on the streets. When Pyaari disappears, Shivani accepts Meera’s assertion than Pyaari has been kidnapped, and given the truly frightening statistics given at the end of the film it does seem the most likely scenario. Shivani quickly establishes that one of the men associated with the orphanage is implicated in Pyaari’s disappearance and her subsequent investigations lead her to a drug dealer who is also part of the gang. From here it’s a short step to Vakil (Anil George), and the realisation that she has stumbled upon a large and well organised drug smuggling and human trafficking ring. Vakil is the face of the organisation and the man the drug dealers think is in charge, but standing in the shadows behind Vakil is the real boss, Karan (Tahir Raj Bhasin).

One of the reasons why the film works so well is the developing relationship between Shivani and Karan and the careful steps they take to outwit each other. Karan calls Shivani when her investigation begins to impinge on his organisation, and their subsequent phone conversations become an integral part of the story. At one point Karan introduces himself as Walter White, a nod to the Breaking Bad character, and a clear indication that he considers himself a criminal mastermind. Generally Bhasin plays Karan with an aura of cool authority mixed with genuine menace as he orders his various lackeys around and keeps track of his business empire. In scenes where the kidnapped girls are stripped, showered and basically dehumanised, it’s obvious Karan sees them purely as merchandise to be sold, a tactic that moves the film away from tacky voyeurism into a sinister and shockingly more realistic place. However when he calls Shivani, she refers to him as ‘the kid’ and remains cool and calm, refusing to rise to his threats or attempts at intimidation and it’s Karan who struggles to keep his composure. Shivani remains professional when dealing with Karan despite her fears for Pyaari, and it’s only towards the end that her self-control slides and she embarks on a more vigilante style of action.

While the film didn’t need quite so much focus on the plight of the girls, their abuse and degradation is effective in building outrage that is later used as a justification for Shivani’s unconventional method to bring Karan to justice. The film also loses some credibility when Rani morphs into a more typical filmi-hero and channels her inner Salman Khan for the last few scenes, taking the law into her own hands. It dulls the effect of the rest of the film, although there is some satisfaction is seeing the abused get their own back on their abusers. There is also a tendency for the film to become rather preachy towards the end with Shivani lecturing the police chief in Delhi when he is reluctant to pursue the human traffickers, but the statistics that play over the end credits are likely an indication of the point Pradeep Sarkar was trying to make. The details about the massive numbers of children who go missing and the extent of the child sex-trade are chilling and anything that raises awareness, and hopefully subsequent prosecutions and a downward change in these figures is welcome. It’s not all about ‘the message’ though, and for the most part the film is an action thriller with an engaging storyline.

Mardaani keeps to a standard storyline, but the plot is well structured with realistic characters and feasible action that keeps the film believable. Rani and Bhasin are the standouts but the support cast are all good, although the young actresses playing the girls do become overly dramatic at times. It suits the situation though and at least none of the scenes with the girls are remotely suggestive but rather reflect the brutality of the kidnappers instead. The film is a different approach to a police drama and while it’s not an overtly feminist film it is good to have a strong female character as the lead, particularly when she takes on a more traditionally masculine role so successfully. Worth watching for Rani, a more realistic storyline (at least until near the end) and Tahir Raj Bhasin, who will hopefully live up to the promise he shows here. 3 ½ stars.

Naanum Rowdy Dhaan

Naanum Rowdy Dhaan

I’m loving the recent ‘new wave’ in Tamil comedy that seems to be producing hit after hit and some very funny films. Naanum Rowdy Dhaan is the latest release from writer/director Vignesh Shivan and it’s a perfect example of the genre, mixing a good story with great dialogue and brilliant performances from a very competent cast. As an added bonus the film even has grammatically correct English subtitles (I’m going to assume that they were accurate too), ensuring I was laughing at the right moments – or at least along with everyone else.

The story is set in Pondicherry, which is another plus for me since it’s only a few years since I visited and quite a few of the locations were familiar. Pandi (Vijay Sethupathi) first appears onscreen as a young boy (Surya Vijay Sethupathi – Vijay’s son?) sitting in a jail, occupied with filling in the front of a school notebook with his interesting ambition (given his current location) of joining the police force. However all is not as it seems. Pandi is the son of the police inspector (Raadhika Sarathkumar) and the real occupant of the cell is Raja, played by one of my favourite ‘bad guys’, Rajendran. Yay! While waiting for his lawyer and get-out-of-jail-free card, Raja tells the young Pandi a story about a rowdy and a cop, when Pandi asked which is the better job prospect. The subsequent tale has the effect of changing Pandi’s mind about his career choice and he carefully changes the word in his notebook from police to rowdy.

So it’s a little surprising then when we see grown up Pandi to find he is going through a battery of tests to become a police officer, although he spends most of his time telling others how much better rowdyism is compared to law enforcement. But once away from the testing area Pandi is indeed a rowdy. Well, kind of.

Because Pandi isn’t a very rowdy-like rowdy.

Along with his gang of friends he has a lair painted with fluorescent paint on the walls that lists fees for various acts of violence, but when it comes down to it he doesn’t actually do any of these things. Instead the gang enacts a drama, getting people to pretend to have been beaten up or injured and then sending a photo of the ‘injury’ to the client. Pandi’s biggest success is arbitrating in a schoolboy squabble and most of his ‘swagger’ is an elaborate act without any real substance.

But then he meets Kadambari and gets involved in the search for her missing father. Kadambari is hearing impaired after an injury and her father is a police officer on the cusp of retirement. It turns out that the story Raja told at the start of the film was based in fact with the rowdy, Killivalavan (Parthiban) getting the better of police officer Ravikumar (Azhagam Perumal). Kadambari wants her revenge and since true love means killing your girlfriends enemy, Pandi takes on the job. Or at least offers to hold Killivalavan while Kadambari stabs him to death. A true gentleman!

The jokes come thick and fast from the numerous attempts to kill Killivalavan (or at least get him to apologise) to Raja’s gun that has a silencer that mews like a cat. The dialogue is very funny and the cast all do a good job in delivering their lines for maximum effect. Even Nayantara, who has a brilliantly comedic scene when she is kidnapped by another rowdy (Anandaraj) which had everyone in the cinema in stitches. Generally Nayantara is much better here than she was in Masss, giving her character plenty of personality and managing good chemistry with her co-star. She does well with the comedy too, and shows just what a good actress she can be when given the chance.

Vijay Sethupathi looks amazingly different here from his previous roles such as Soodhu Kavvum or Idharkuthane Aasaipattai Balakumara. Without his beard he appears years younger and seems to have shed some bulkiness along with the age which suits his character well. He still has the same great timing and flair for comedy though, working well with RJ Balaji in the role of Pandi’s long suffering friend. Balaji plays it straight but has plenty of witty comments and his delivery is perfectly timed. Together the two make a great pair and the dialogue between them is written so well as to appear natural and unforced – something which is rare in most comedies. Pandi tries very hard to be a tough guy, and when push comes to shove he proves he can hold his own, but he’d much rather just show the ‘tude rather than court any confrontation, while Balaji wants nothing to do with ‘real’ rowdyism at all.

Anirudh Ravichander provides the music and the soundtrack fits into the mood of the story well. Vijay Sethupathi skilfully avoids any actual dancing, and the songs themselves work well to move the romance story forward. George C Williams is the man behind the cinematography and as in his earlier films, he has a sure touch with the camera ensuring the film looks perfect too. Overall Naanum Rowdy Dhaan is an excellent entertainer combining action and comedy with a dash of romance. Recommended for Vijay Sethupathi, Nayantara and a very funny screenplay.