Om Shanti Om

Farah Khan is one of the very few directors currently working in Bollywood who is making our kind of masala movie.  We loved Main Hoon Na and since her next project, Tees Maar Khan, is about to release it seems fitting to start our Christmas silly season with one of the last great masala films we saw in the cinema – Om Shanti Om (OSO).

SRK plays Om Prakash Makhija, a junior artiste who, along with his friend Pappu (Shreyas Talpade), is struggling for work in Hindi films in the seventies. The film opens with a wonderful take on Rishi Kapoor’s Om Shanti Om from Karz which foreshadows the reincarnation romance drama musical about to unfold.  There is some clever use of the original footage and we felt right from the beginning that we were going to love this! The retro setting also lets Farah Khan and Red Chillies show off some fab CGI work in their tribute to past filmi legends.

Om falls in love with one of the big stars of the time, Shantipriya or Shanti, played by Deepika Padukone.  Naturally, since this is after all Bollywood, such a romance is destined to face obstacles, as Shantipriya is a big star and Om is a nobody.

There are some wonderful scenes where Om woos Shanti, both heart-wrenchingly romantic and hilarious, particularly the scenes when he pretends to be a Southern Indian film star breaking into Bollywood. This was fun at the time, but even better now that we have had the opportunity to see where Farah took her inspiration from! Shanti is secretly married to sleazy Mukesh Mehra (Arjun Rampal) and this of course presents both a barrier to Om’s happiness, and a great opportunity for some excellent SRK emoting.

Inevitably, Om discovers Shantipriya’s secret and his heart is broken.  Again Farah Khan manages to take some poignant moments and intersperse them with some classic filmi devices to make the resulting song both sad and funny.

Since Om is the hero, he still fights to save Shanti when Mukesh determines she must die to protect his own career.  Om is badly injured in the confrontation and dies (eventually) in a nearby hospital, at the exact same time as big star Rajesh Kapoor’s wife is delivered of a son. A son who has a mysterious birthmark that looks a lot like a significant tattoo. Yes!

This baby grows into Om Kapoor; a spoilt self-indulgent actor resting on his father’s laurels and a trial to all who know him. Adored by his fans, he feels that he can do no wrong until he remembers his past life, grows up a little and resolves to bring about justice for his lost love, Shantipriya.

There is plenty of comedy, particularly for anyone who knows something about the films, actors and different factions in Bollywood.  There are many sly digs at the industry’s predilection for nepotism, all tongue in cheek and very funny! SRK is not exempt from Farah’s sharp wit: as he arrives for a film shoot, one of the bystanders comments “I thought he’d be taller”. Kirron Kher is in fine form as Om’s ‘filmi’ mother, and she has some fabulous scenery chewing moments. Shreyas Talpade and SRK have some fun scenes together and really seemed to enjoy hamming it up as junior artistes.

Although a lot of the humour is contained in the dialogues, there are plenty of physical gags, and even the sad scenes have an element of comedy.  While Farah Khan is poking fun at the very typical filmi devices, she is also acknowledging these older films that she clearly loves.  OSO is a paean to these masala greats and we were inspired to track down many of the scenes she referenced.

There is also plenty of drama.  While most of the scenes are deliberately over-acted to get as many laughs as possible, there were some genuinely moving moments.  The scenes between Om and his ‘filmi ma’ and his friendship with Pappu were given as much care and emotion as the romantic scenes with Shanti and the confrontations with Mukesh.  The film loses momentum a little towards the end, but only for a moment and it soon picks up the pace with the final Andrew Lloyd-Webber inspired showdown.

The entire film seems to have been written to display SRK at his best.  He brings every nuance of the role to life and manages seemingly effortlessly to turn scenes from happy to sad to totally ridiculous and have us following along accepting every ridiculous turn of the plot.

This was Deepika Padukone’s debut film and Farah Khan seems to have gotten much more out of her than any directors since.  Although she is wooden in her earlier scenes as Shantipriya, she suits her modern day character of Sandy better and she comes to life in the songs.

The support actors, in particular Shreyas Talpade and Arjun Rampal are well cast in their roles. Being a Farah Khan film, of course the songs are exceptionally well choreographed and filmed.  One of the things we appreciate Farah for is her determination that her leading men should be objectified as much as, if not a little more than, the glamorous heroines. She outdoes herself with Dard-e-Disco which has hilariously bad lyrics (apparently she kept telling Javed Akhtar to make his lyrics worse) and is full of gratuitous shots of SRK in, emerging from, and being doused with, water.

Any good masala film must also have great costumes, and OSO delivers in this regard.  The outfits from the 70’s are thoroughly of their period and stunning in their garishness and we loved them.  Shantipriya wears some beautiful clothes and the depiction of Om as an actor means we get to see him in an array of costumes.  There are plenty of fight scenes too, with the best reserved for the Southern Indian film episode.

Much of the film industry seems to have got behind Farah with her multi-starrer song Deewangi Deewangi.  It was a fantastic feat to get so many actors to take part, and we had great fun spotting some of the stars of yesteryear and their signature moves.  The satire on the Filmfare awards was partly filmed during the actual ceremony and it is very good humoured of both Filmfare and the array of famous actors to take part. We weren’t quite so enamoured of Bappi Lahiri’s singing on the red carpet but he is a legend in his own blinged up disco way.

The story of OSO is perhaps predictable, but the great performances and the exceptional production values more than make up for that.  We are quite sure that there are a lot more jokes in there that we just didn’t get, despite repeated viewings.  At the end of this film, we both looked at each other immediately said  ‘What the fish? Again – we want to watch it again!’

Heather says: I think I saw this film at least 5 times in the cinema. Farah is excellent at showcasing her obvious love of cinema, and while she pokes fun at the entire industry it’s not with any malice. As a director she seems to know exactly what her audience wants and then delivers. Although her story doesn’t make much sense that’s not what I remember from the film. Its much more about the humour, the costumes and the excellent performances on screen. Being a huge SRK fan I can (and have) watched him in really dreadful bad films, but it is so refreshing to watch him where the director knows how to get the very best out of every scene. I totally loved the songs by Vishal-Shekkar, and they still make me smile and dance when I play them to-day. The continual references back to older films were a huge plus, and the clever re-working of old clips in Dhoom Tana was fantastic! Everything works well together; the casting is right, fantastic songs and costumes, great choreography and all tied together by a great script. Om Shanti Om is exactly what masala means for me, including the lack of logic in the plot! Please Farah, can we have some more? 5 stars

Temple says: This film is like the very best kind of Easter Egg hunt. Everywhere you look there are sparkly little treats and jokes, and beautiful tributes to other much-loved films. I really enjoyed the nod to every filmi cliche that could possibly be used, and the cheerful ransacking of seminal images from Hindi films of the past. I also loved seeing Pyarelal back up in the credits and on the red carpet! The performances really were very good, from the headline stars to the smallest special appearance and I felt that all the performers shared a love of the 70s film industry and it’s products, so they seemed to give it their best. For all the cheesy fluff, the film-making team also did a very intelligent thing with the Om Shanti equation in the modern era by not making it a romance. Om had no intention of, um, completing his earlier relationship with the newer model, just of seeing justice done for his past life’s true love. It made me a lot more willing to sit through repeated viewings of the slightly draggy second half as there wasn’t that squick factor. I also enjoyed seeing SRK revel in his ability to portray unpleasant characters – he was cold, calculating and quite repellent as OK in some scenes, and got to use more than his lauded five expressions.

Farah Khan has great attention to detail and everything from the costumes (where on earth did they find all those fabulous fabrics?)  to the music suited her vision perfectly. And the now trademark exuberant closing credits were a perfect finish to a great journey and sent the cinema audience out on a high. I loved being swept up in this, and feeling that little bit clever for recognising some of the references. Would you appreciate this film if you knew nothing about its source materials? Yes, I think so. It has so much colour, energy, heart and humour that there is something for everyone. Well, no machetes but I can’t really begrudge that tiny lack. And I was certainly inspired to go find or re-watch some of the classic scenes pilfered for use in OSO. Farah Khan as brand ambassador for Masala Pradesh? She’s got my vote! 5 stars!

Udaan

Udaan was the first Indian film in seven years to be selected for the ‘Un Certain Regard’ section at the Cannes Film Festival, and also won the Best Audience Award and Best Music Score at the Giffoni Film Festival. Sadly the film didn’t have a cinematic release in Australia, which is unfortunate as I think it is the best Hindi film I have seen so far this year. Overall Udaan is a simple story brilliantly told with some fantastic performances by the young and inexperienced leads.

Rohan is a seventeen year old who has been at boarding school in Shimla for 8 years. In that time he has not been home, nor has his father or any of his family visited him. His friends are his surrogate family and they follow the ‘all for one and one for all’ motto. Their various escapades, including a late night trip out to see am adult movie, result in their expulsion from the school and Rohan has to finally return home to Jamshedpur. His father barely acknowledges his arrival at the train station, not speaking a word, and leaves Rohan to drag his trunk across the platform and up the stairs into their flat  by himself. 

Once home, Rohan finds that while he was at school his father had married again and he has a six-year-old step-brother Arjun. The relationship between them is off to a bad start as neither knows of the others existence, and as the bigger and older brother, Rohan totally pushes Arjun aside. 

Rohan’s relationship with his father, never a happy one, deteriorates further as Bhairav Singh decrees that Rohan will work in his factory in the morning and attend engineering college in the afternoon.  Rohan wants to be a writer, and throughout the film we hear his poems and stories. When he is looking after his step-brother in hospital, everyone crowds around to hear his stories, so we believe that he really would be able to make it as a writer despite his young age.  Engineering however is not his calling and he struggles continually. He tries to be the son his father wanted and perseveres with his studies, but he is only seventeen and the lure of his writing is too strong to be ignored.  He skips school to sit in the fields and write, so inevitably fails his courses.  

His father is an authoritarian bully, an alcoholic, and is determined that his son will follow in his footsteps and take over the foundry.  He is continually disappointed by Rohan’s seeming failures and physically and verbally abuses him.  He also forces Rohan to run and train with him daily, trying to mould him into the man he wants him to become.  His treatment of his younger son is equally appalling and results in the two step-brothers finding some common ground. Bhairav has a younger brother, Jimmy who has a happy but childless marriage, and he becomes an ally for Rohan in his attempts to get his father to accept his writing.  But Jimmy has issues of his own with his brother and cannot stand up to him when it comes to the two boys.  Rohan rebels by stealing his father’s car and heading off to the bars in Jamshedpur where he goes drinking with some new friends. Rohan has to decide if he will stay, become an engineer and end up like his father, or leave to try to realise his ambition.  As his step-brothers fate also seems to lie in his hands, this is not an easy decision to make.

For me, the film works so well because Rohan’s dilemma is very realistically portrayed.  Like most of us, he wants his father to approve of him and he tries very hard to win this approval.  He can remember how much his mother loved him, and is desperate for some feeling from his father. Rohan’s rebellions seem very typical of a teenager, and his reaction to his step-brother rings true.  The issues of alcoholism and abuse are dealt with in a very matter of fact way.  There is no attempt by director Vikramaditya Motwane to either sensationalise or underplay the brutality and cruelty in the relationships between Rohan, Arjun and their father. The harsh reality of the story is allowed to speak for itself and it is to the director’s credit that the film is such a moving and poignant story.  

The performances by Rajat Barmecha as Rohan and Aayan Boradia as Arjun are extraordinary.  Both are flawless in their roles and we really feel the developing relationship between them.  For such young and inexperienced actors they have given truly excellent performances. The experienced actors also can be credited with some very good acting. Ronit Roy is fantastic as Rohan’s father, Bhairav Singh.  He keeps his expressions grim when dealing with his sons and while at work, but is animated, smiling and laughing with his friends. His alcoholism is always hidden from the rest of the world and he keeps his treatment of his sons an equally well guarded secret. Ronit Roy manages to convey so much of his character through these basic themes and with minimal changes in his expressions. Ram Kapoor also does a great job with his role as Jimmy.  He manages to make his character affable and ineffectual with some nicely underplayed acting.

The film has plenty of symbolism, which gives it a very European feel. The school as Shimla is set in the forest, and the transition on the train to the industrial sights of Jamshedpur makes a sharp contrast.  Shots of Rohan’s father are often framed by the barbed wire fence surrounding their home, and his scenes are often dark and heavy in feeling.  My favourite of these moments is probably Rohan’s T-shirt which states Love Happiness, but when he sits down it folds to read Lose Happiness. An excellent find by the wardrobe department!  The music by Amit Trevedi won an award at the Giffoni Film Festival and is beautiful and haunting.  Although often part of the background, a number of the songs also serve to move the film forward and are very well placed to do this. The last song is just perfect and a lovely memorable end to the film. 

There is nothing to find fault with in Udaan.  The screenplay by Vikramaditya Motwane and Anurag Kashyap is excellent, and the dialogue, going by my basic Hindi and the subtitles, seems appropriate for the story.  A sad film, but one which touches the heart and I totally loved it. 5 stars.  Heather

Chori Chori (1956)

I grew up watching RKO and MGM musicals, and have always loved that kind of film with snappy dialogue, lush soundtracks, stylised visuals and excellent casting. I am a bit resistant to the remake in general – I tend to think that if a film was great first time around, why mess with it. So I was surprised by how much I like Chori Chori. It is ‘inspired’ by the 1934 Frank Capra film ‘It Happened One Night’ starring Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert, and has the legendary jodi of Nargis and Raj Kapoor at the fore, directed by Anant Thakur. Chori Chori seems to me to be the perfect balance between slick Hollywood and heart on sleeve Bollywood.

One of my great friends often says ‘Raj Kapoor was sleazy…and not in a good way’ which never fails to crack me up and is the thing that pops into my head when I see him.  I didn’t ‘get’ Raj Kapoor til I saw this film and drew the connection to the Gable style of Hollywood hero that used equal measures of smarm and strong-arm to win the day. I’m still not a huge fan, but I can at least glimpse what it was that makes him such a significant figure in the Hindi film industry.

Nargis is Kammo – spoilt daughter of the super wealthy Ghirdarilal (Gope). She is determined to marry the dashing pilot Suman (Pran!) but her father is sure Suman is only after the dollars not his daughter. She jumps ship and swims to shore, determined to make her way to Bangalore and Suman’s arms. I have to say she showed some moxy in pawning a diamond ring to fund her travels, but the white net sari she bought with the proceeds struck me as wildly impractical for a long bus trip.

Also bound for Bangalore is struggling journalist Sagar (Raj Kapoor). The two loathe each other on sight and of course we know that can only mean true love is round the corner. Sagar is reluctantly drawn into helping Kammo, caught by his chivalrous nature, curiosity and later by his attraction to her. He wears a western suit and hat, slightly the worse for age, and his look could have been lifted straight from Hollywood Central Casting. He represents the heroic battler, trying to make a decent living while keeping his morals intact. He cuts a deal with Kammo – he will help her get to Bangalore and Suman, and he will reap a financial reward when he sells his story.

Ghirdarilal places adverts offering a reward for anyone who returns Kammo to him. Thus there is ample opportunity for a host of minor characters (including Johnny Walker) to join the treasure hunt, and a catalyst for throwing the sparky leads together.

As they travel incognito, scenes cut away to Suman who is shown to be a gold-digger with an eye for dancers. This is not bad for the viewer as we get to enjoy a very nice classically inspired dance, but we already know which man Kammo should marry.

Kammo and Sagar miss their bus, and continue to travel together under the pretence of being married. Raj is only carrying a small valise and yet I lost count of how many pairs of stripy pyjamas he seemed to have packed. Mind you, Nargis seems to amass a decent collection of saris along the way so it’s probably only fair that Sagar has an extensive range of sleepwear. The pyjamas were quite significant in ‘It Happened One Night’, but rather than share a single pair of pjs this couple get matching his n hers. Lots of them. Perhaps the wardrobe team had the day off when someone came up with Kammo’s alluring night attire.

They encounter suspicion and adversity and their own growing feelings. Sagar wanted the story and maybe the money, and Kammo wanted Suman – neither of them wants to acknowledge what is changing between them. They offer each other small kindnesses – the loan of the ubiquitous pyjamas, a blanket thrown towards a sleeping Raj – and lots of snark. The dialogue by Agha Jani Kashmiri is sharp and delivered with perfect timing. These two really are a match for each other and the chemistry is sizzling.

It’s all quite predictable down to the last twist and turn but it is still compelling. Nargis is stunning in her portrayal of the feisty Kammo. She isn’t afraid to articulate her feelings for Sagar, whether in song or dialogue, and challenges his reticence. In one scene, heartbroken Kammo walks through a storm and Nargis exudes grief so profound it outshines all the environmental theatrics. It is a bit irritating, although perfectly in tune with the era, after such an independent start Kammo appears to realise she should never have defied her father or left her home, although that may be her own idea of a necessary penance.

Kammo’s relationship with her father was perplexing. Kammo was spoilt rotten and certainly lacked for nothing in the material sense. He locked her up to stop her marrying Suman and really did not believe that anyone would marry ‘baby’ for anything other than his money. He was devastated when she disappeared but trusted Kammo to tell him as much as she wanted to on her tearful return. So I kind of blame Ghirdarilal for making Kammo susceptible to Suman’s flattery as she was seeking approval she didn’t get at home. But he also made her the kind of brat that needed a reality check. Oh these filmi parents!

Raj Kapoor seems content to mostly allow his leading lady to dominate, and is fairly low key. Until the puppet song which I think was designed to allow him to release all the repressed over-acting. He spouts a lot of philosophy about the joys of the simple life, which seems to impress Nargis. I’d have more faith in that if Sagar had ever lived anything other than a simple life and so could make a valid comparison, but I’m a cynical viewer not a filmi heroine.

A disquieting note throughout is the equation drawn between marital status and the individuals’ threshold level for physical violence. One scene has a landlord test whether Sagar and Kammo are married by smacking Sagar around. The fact that he doesn’t flinch is accepted as proof he must be married to her! Slaps fly in this film, and while they are generally shown as a symptom of passion, it’s still a bit disconcerting and causes me to remind myself this is the 50s. For those wondering, Nargis lands some excellent shots, which I enjoyed, but on the downside the women in Chori Chori are generally portrayed as the aggressors in domestic violence.

The music is used to perfection in this film. Each song acts to illuminate the innermost thoughts of the characters singing or those observing the performance. Shankar-Jaikishan have the perfect big band sound for the romantic duets, and the orchestration is lush as befits this story. The songs show a range of musical influences and are very well integrated into the narrative. And who doesn’t swoon just a bit on seeing Asha Bhosle, Lata Mangeshkar, Manna Dey and Mohammad Rafi all on a soundtrack?

The classic visual devices from ‘It Happened One Night’ appear throughout Chori Chori – particularly the wall Sagar creates in their shared rooms by draping a blanket over a rope, those stripy pyjamas, and the cramped bus trip. It’s a fairly faithful remake, adapted to suit its audience’s sensibilities, and the changes don’t weaken the story.

Raj and Nargis are stunning and deliver beautifully nuanced performances. With the frisson of their legendary affair in mind, the romance on screen seemed that much more compelling as I wondered what was acting and what was revelation. The film has style, beautiful cinematography, lovely songs and strong performances. I give it 4 stars! Temple