To say Luck By Chance [Images] is a parody on the Hindi film industry would be naive if not plain ignorant.
Unlike Rangeela [Images], wherein the latter formed a light-hearted backdrop to the narrative or Om Shanti Om [Images], which lampooned a certain swinging era to source its laughs and chuckles, Zoya Akhtar's [Images] crisply-written and keenly directed debut showcases Bollywood for what it is, with all its manipulations, double-standards, glamour, quirks, cliches, shallowness, superstitions, struggles, clannish mentality and ever-changing priorities acting as way of life.
That doesn't entirely suggest Luck By Chance is drowned in cynicism. Sure it has its 'theatre actors vs portfolio prototypes,' 'Tough times of a child artist' and 'Golden age against brash Gen X' moments but Zoya tempers the unavoidable cliches and valid arguments with impressive cleverness and cheek.
While Luck By Chance is about all things related to the film industry, it's refreshingly subtle in its obsession. Although its two lead protagonists -- a pair of struggling actors, talk shop all the time, the emphasis is mostly on networking and bagging opportunities under certain filmmakers. And so it is Singh is Kinng [Images] over theatre, where there's seemingly no place for heavy-duty pseudo intellectualism or world cinema humbug.
Also, wanting to be an actor doesn't always translate into a certified fan boy like one of its characters demonstrates to us. To impress his co-star's mom, a yesteryear actress, he winds up catching all her previous DVDs a couple of days before he is to meet the concerned party. Even the prevalence of casting couch is approached with alarming nonchalance and 'There are no free lunches' school of pragmatism.
Mostly though Luck By Chance treads the career path of two ambitious actors toiling to make it big -- Vikram (Farhan Akhtar [Images]) and Sona (Konkona Sen Sharma [Images]) and what happens when the twain cross. While Vikram goes through the motions doing the acting class routine whilst taking lessons for horse-riding and dancing, getting his portfolio shot against the dilapidated Bandra fort, a favoured venue with most strugglers, Sona plays an established starlet doing her 'dead girl's sister' bit in important looking movies. As always failures and frustrations forge the beginning of a beautiful friendship between the two leading to hinted intimacy.
Even as Sona's aspirations face a series of setback, Vikram gets his big break after superstar Zafar Khan (Hrithik Roshan [Images]) walks out of Rommy Rolly's (Rishi Kapoor [Images]) project last minute to sign on Karan Johar's [Images] sure-shot two-hero hit. Sly, charming and aching to succeed, Vikram manipulates his destiny to achieve his goals even if it means being in a watered down-The Graduate like spot with his flippant co-star (Isha Sharvani [Images] plays the privileged dimwit with delectable sauciness and lithesome moves) and her fiery mom Neena (Dimple Kapadia [Images], stunning, striking, storming). What follows is his bid to survive, by trick or treat, in Bollywood's aquarium of contrasting, contradictory individuals.
At times reminiscent of the earnestness of Hrishikesh Mukherjee's Guddi. On occasions, emulating the purposeful use of star-studded cameos as in Woody Allen's [Images] Celebrity, Luck By Chance is neither preoccupied by gimmickry nor dedicated to hard-and-fast realism.
Instead of spelling out its characters or values for you, it uses definitive moments to do all the talking. Like Mac Mohan (better known as Sholay's [Images] Sambha), presiding over an acting school function is asked to repeat his career-making line 'Poore pachaas hazaar,' the focus and gravity of the scene is just spectacular. Much warmth is to be found when Hrithik interacts with street children -- making fish faces, through his car windscreen. Or a sense of irony that rings when (a rather likeable) Sanjay Kapoor as Rommy Rolly's filmmaker brother, Ranjit suggests his one-time actor status and how overconfidence can kill your chances. Unobtrusive symbolism, understated layers, that's Zoya Akhtar's trademark for you.
Another palpable winner is dialogue writer Javed Akhtar's razor-sharp wit, especially when channelled through a gregarious Rishi Kapoor. Sample these: 'Oye institute, main yeh film Film Festivals ke liye nahi bana raha.' 'Subah se itne chimpanzee dekhein hain, ek to Tarzan mila.' 'She's a crocodile in a chiffon sari.'
Despite its laudable aversion for contrived babble like 'Mumbai [Images] sapno ka shaher hai,' Luck By Chance isn't above flaws. It follows the linear narrative of struggle-success-corruption-realisation-redemption and in the process reduces Farhan's Vikram into a one-dimensional personality instead of a complex one whereas Konkona's Sona unconvincingly pulls up her socks and hurries you to believe that the story is eventually centred on her. The climax is somewhat disjointed -- lingering in prolonged realisations and meandering monologues, slipping from the dramatic curve it previously drew while constructing the players, their motives.
Having said that, Zoya more than lives up to her lineage of visionary sensibilities. Be it in the clarity of her nicely-spread thoughts, the dignity with which she projects the community of strugglers and their unrealised dreams or her perceptive music sense. Besides an eclectic score by Shankar, Ehsaan and Loy, Luck By Chance boasts of a neat background ranging from a Thomas Newmanesque theme to ditties like Bulla ki jaana (Rabbi) and Bachna ae haseeno [Images] (Hum Kisise Kum Nahin).
Perfectly casted, Farhan and Konkona are completely in sync with the fundamentals and intricacies of the people they play. Though not exactly a roaring chemistry, they make a comfortable pair. For Konkona, this isn't a new territory. She's often playing the free spirit who knows her mind and her voice. Here too, she knows. Especially when she talks about her individual potential and objectives, a concept totally lost on her self-centred beau.
Farhan, on the other hands, possess enough earthiness and charisma to pull off the metamorphosis of a needy struggler to a rising star. Eventually, Luck By Chance is as much a Rishi Kapoor film as it is Farhan and Konkona's. The man in a The Royal Tenenbaums inspired wig is simply rollicking while conveying his buoyancy for movie-making as well as gullibility when it comes to numerology, astrology and ilk. And Juhi Chawla [Images] pitches in to provide just the right laugh at the right place as the typical, you've-seen-them-galore, vanity-personified, Hunny-Shunny-spewing producer's wife.
It's an extended cameo but Hrithik brings in all the possible dimensions. He plays a slightly enigmatic, edgy superstar. You never really come to know what he's all about. He wants the big films. He wants to be Peter Pan. He can tell brilliant from bogus. He seems to have heart. And yet he seems insecure.
The movie features a whole lot of star/industry appearances, which are best left unmentioned and enjoyed for what it's worth. But as the acting guru Nand Kishore (taking off on a popular acting teacher) and creative writer-caught-in-a-commercial caper, Saurav Shukla and Anurag Kashyap deserve special mention.
You know what? So does the film. And that's neither by Luck. Or By Chance.
Verdict:3.5/5
Courtesy:Rediff.com
The team behind Raaz - The Mystery Continues have often clarified that it's not a sequel to RAAZ, one of the most interesting cinematic experiences, besides being the biggest Hit of that year. Yet, you cannot but draw parallels with the first film of the franchise.
Horror as a genre hasn't been tapped to the optimum in India. We've witnessed spooky fares in the past and some of them have succeeded in making you break into a cold sweat (BHOOT stands tall in this list). Last year's PHOONK and 1920 were scary movies as well.
There's tremendous curiosity to watch Raaz - The Mystery Continues, but does it scare the living daylights out of you? Fortunately, yes!
The story (Mohit Suri) is absorbing and Mohit treats the subject like a veteran, as if he knows the genre very well. There're moments that make your heart beat faster, you watch the events with eyes and jaws wide open.
Sure, there're blemishes as well, but they don't overpower the plusses or make you change your opinion about the film. While the beginning and the middle of the film is engrossing, it's the end that could've been better thought of.
Wanna get scared? Wanna get goose pimples? Buy the ticket for Raaz - The Mystery Continues pronto. It lives up to the hype and expectations completely.
A brooding artist Prithvi (Emraan Hashmi) experiences mysterious and distressing visions about Nandita (Kangna Ranaut), a woman he has never met, while he paints on canvas. Intrigued by these visions, Prithvi tracks her down and warns her that these are not merely paintings of her, but accidents that are waiting to happen.
At first, Nandita refuses to believe him and dismisses him as an eccentric stalker. However, the striking resemblance between Prithvi's paintings and the near-death incidents in her life is hard to ignore.
Now, one of Prithvi's paintings has revealed her as dead. The only way she can change her fate is to unravel this mystery with his help, at the risk of alienating herself from her boyfriend, Yash (Adhyayan Suman). But he refuses to believe in Prithvi's premonitions. Will Nandita risk her love and her life to unravel this mystery?
Most of us have heard, witnessed or perhaps had a first-hand experience of supernatural. The present-day generation may, perhaps, term it as wild imagination or hallucination, while the believers may have their point of view. Mohit and screenplay writer Shagufta Rafique's characters in Raaz - The Mystery Continues are believers and non-believers, both.
Mohit smartly builds up the atmosphere. Sample these: Emraan and Kangna's first encounter at a mall and minutes later, inside an elevator; the New Year bash when Kangna is 'attacked' by spirits; Kangna's experience in her bathtub and also when she looks at the mirror; Kangna almost jumping off a cliff; the highpoint sequence, when angry bulls attack Emraan and Kangna. Incredible sequences all! Mohit has handled the most difficult portions with panache.
However, the entire flashback part, towards the pre-climax, is not as convincing. The ending too could've been better in terms of writing, although Mohit has filmed it exceptionally well.
Mohit's choice of the subject as also the actors is right. This is, without doubt, his finest effort to date. Shagufta's screenplay is watertight at most times. Like always, the Bhatts come up with a lilting musical score and at least two songs -- 'Soniyo' (Raju Singh) and 'Maahi' (Sharib-Toshi) -- are first-rate compositions. Ravi Walia's cinematography is up to the mark. The effects are impressive.
On the acting front, both Emraan and Kangna vie for top honours. Emraan is excellent. He conveys a lot through facial expressions and that's the sign of a proficient actor. He's just getting better and better with every film. Kangna is top notch.
After FASHION, this one's another power-packed performance from the actress. Adhyayan Suman is super-confident and registers a strong impact, especially towards the climax. He shows promise. Jackie Shroff is quite okay in a brief role.
On the whole, Raaz - The Mystery Continues is rich in the horror quotient and that is one of its major USPs, besides the highly competent performances by its principal cast and a lilting musical score.
At the box-office, this one will continue the winning streak of Mahesh Bhatt and Mukesh Bhatt's Vishesh Films. The 4-day weekend (Monday, January 26 in a holiday) will only cement its status further. Go for it!
Rating: ***1/2
By Taran Adarsh
I would like to take this opportunity to ask Twinkle Kumar [nee Khanna] if there was ever a time when her husband Akshay tried cooking for her, did so rather woefully, and she felt the politest response was to giggle.
In this hypothetical situation, Kumar might have mistaken this for genuine mirth, and assumed -- along with fellow dinner guest Shridhar Raghavan (the writer of Bluffmaster and Khakee -- that the idea of him as a chef was surefire comic gold, a prospect the actor and writer tried out first with Raj Kumar Santoshi'sabominable disaster Family, and then this latest Nikhil Advani blooper, Chandni Chowk To China .
A film that makes Singh Is Kinng seem like a highly textured work of complex characterisation and nuanced writing, Chandni Chowk To China is a disastrous overbudget mess -- and it may even turn out to be the one film so weak that even current box-office almighty Akshay Kumar can't save it.
He tries his best, but the film itself can't quite decide whether to be a massively over-the-top bit of masala (like Kumar's own vaguely enjoyable Khiladiyon Ka Khiladi) or an out-and-out spoof (like Shah Rukh Khan's [Images] guilty pleasure silly movie Baadshah). No, this one slots into a painful no-man's-genre area, and, clearly confused between the campy comic route and the overtly melodramatic path, constantly stumbles around.
A scene from Chandni C howk To ChinaSample, if you will, this early contender for the year's most bizarre dialogue: Kumar has been trained in Kung Fu, his arms turned into lethal weapons using something called the Iron Forearm technique. Soon he's folding Deepika Padukone into these aforementioned steely arms, and saying [I translate, roughly] 'I have Iron Forearms. Soon I'll have Iron Legs, an Iron Chest, Iron Stomach,' he pauses to look down pointedly, 'and an Iron...' Here he trails off as the girl coyly covers his mouth, saying 'Enough' with a smile.
'Don't stop me now,' retorts he, 'My entire body is now made of iron.' She smiles, flutters eyelids, and breathily says, 'Oh, mere Iron Man.'
Nope, not kidding.
But Iron Man creator Stan Lee isn't the only Lee this constantly underwhelming film would disappoint. The film's patently loopy plot involves a reincarnated Chinese warrior, a half-Chinese half-Indian translator whose origin story gets even more muddled at the end, a Hindi-speaking Chinese cop with twin daughters who have divvied up their Indian and Chinese features based on where they live, and a baddie who borrows his big gimmick from a James Bond villain's sidekick.
And all of the above, unbearably insane as it sounds, could still have made for a perfectly enjoyable film had it completely embraced the absurd and gone for laughs, but Chandni Chowk To China oscillates between a kick-propelled Akshay flying several blocks and the very same man being humiliated and spat upon, with an unsubtle background score suggesting we should be sad. Sigh. We are, but the pity we feel isn't for the hero, it's for the film that could have been.
In the middle of all this martial arts moron-giri, Deepika plays Miss TSM, an online shopping saleswoman (her infomercial is one of the film's high points) as well as her twin sister Meow Meow, a hot Chinese vamp. And while the catty Oriental Deepika looks significantly edible, her presence only serves to make Deepika 1.0 look depressingly dull, and after seeing two of her share the same frame we can no longer run from the fact that the word acting and this pretty girl don't quite belong in the same sentence.
A scene from Chandni Chowk To ChinaBut isn't Akshay good, you wonder. Isn't he the man who routinely makes scriptless movies enjoyable? Doesn't he often work despite the script and the scenes, simply by dint of being who he is? Sure he does, and he manages a few genuine laughs this time around as well, yet his primary achievement in this film is that his character connects completely with the audience: as his protagonist Sidhu haplessly wonders what's going on around him, we sit in the darkened theatre and feel his dazed-and-confused pain.
What flummoxes me completely is the fact that this film is produced by Rohan Sippy, one of the more restrained Bollywood filmmakers and a man who believes in coolth via understatement, and gargantuan American film studio Warner Brothers, making a much hyped foray into India. The only man I can see completely adore this movie is former cricketer Navjot Singh Sidhu, who shares a last name with Kumar's character and might like to hear Kailash Kher [Images] routinely exhort him to greatness. And like on his comedy show, we're not laughing half as hard.
It's not the first time that Akshay's end-credits music video is the best thing about his latest hit, but even as this one features backup dancers gyrate in KillBillesque yellow-black jumpsuits behind the superstar, you realise that you're only really happy to see them because the film's finally over.
Twinkle bhabhi, please tell Akshay to leave cooking to the others. We'll be fine ordering in some takeout, really.
Verdict:1/5
You know a director is a true master when he can turn shit into dreams.
And if a man can do it twice over, he's a true bloody genius.
In Danny Boyle's 1996 masterpiece Trainspotting, Ewan McGregor's Renton pours himself disgustingly yet poetically through the worst toilet in Scotland for a handful of pills. The search goes from squalid to surreal as the filth is scavenged and the pills found, and for a brief hold-your-breath moment, the film becomes a beautiful ode to joy, before the patently polluted protagonist emerges into harsh reality.
In Slumdog Millionaire [Images], Boyle's latest masterpiece, pint-sized Jamal Malik (played by a marvellous Ayush Mahesh Khedekar) finds himself barricaded inside a messy Mumbai [Images] latrine with all thoughts of his own constipation forgotten in a starry haze. The lord God Amitabh Bachchan [Images] is descending, via helicopter, into the slums for a brief moment, and our irresistible urchin is a huge fan. Images of Coolie dance before his desperate eyes, he briefly contemplates the pile of excrement below, and jumps -- right into the mess.
Standing up like a swamp monster -- only a hundred times more disgusting -- this creature covered in the goo of strangers holds up a picture of his idol and, repeatedly yelling 'Amitabachchan' as one word, makes his way through a frenzied mob, one that backs away at the sight of this scummy fanboy. Renton hunted for a hit while Jamal hunts for the greatest hitmaker in the land, and his triumphant instant of glory -- when we see that mythic left-hand scribble an autograph just for him -- is an immortal one, reminding us just how magical cinema can be.
The film tells us the story of this very Jamal Malik, who at 18 has cleaned up to become a call-center chaiwallah capturing India's imagination by occupying the Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? hot-seat with unbelievable accuracy. He seems to know every answer in the book, a fact that leads gleefully smarmy show host Prem to calls the cops on him on charges of cheating. The film thus begins with the cops torturing Jamal, but there is only that much of the saala slumdog they can resist as he spins them his tale, and it truly is a tale of wonder.
*
Also Read: Showcasing Slumdog Millionaire
Loosely based on Vikas Swarup's novel Q&A, Simon Beaufoy's script uses coincidences instead of commas and weaves a grand drama, a fantabulous reality-mocking story, of love and of loss, of survival and of sweethearts. It is a Dickensian tale set in a merciless, mesmerizing city with no time for minor detailing quibbles, with characters speaking not as they naturally would but as the madcap narrative demands, and reality itself breathlessly bending over backwards to accommodate the frenzied energy of Anthony Dod Mantle's disarmingly honest camera. 
By itself, the story -- set firmly in happenstance and high drama, in fantasy and formula -- could be just another piece of overbearing Bollywood kitsch, but Boyle takes it into his spirited hands and plays havoc, clearly relishing every bit of the high-intensity experience. A third of the film is in Hindi (co-director Loveleen Tandon has kept things impressively real) and Boyle uses up subtitles with delightful whimsy, bobbing about like unobtrusive comic-book speech bubbles instead of stagnating at the bottom of the screen. The result is an exceptionally dynamic energy that gels right into the film's rabid groove, urging the narrative forward even more.
Frieda PintoThe ensemble cast is uniformly pitch-perfect. Dev Patel is wonderfully woeful as the grown up Jamal, breaking into a smile only as he answers his final question in the film's climax, but young Khedekar pretty much outshines him as tiny Jamal, while Tanay Chheda's middle Jamal does rather well too.
Jamal's brother Salim is played likewise by a trio of three (chronologically: Azharuddin Mohammed Ismail, Ashutosh Lobo Gajiwala and Madhur Mittal), the performances going from strength to strength.
Frieda Pinto's grown up Latika has a wonderful smile, but the true meat of her character's part lies with her youngest version played by Rubiana Ali, while Tanvi Ganesh [Images] Lonkar's middle Latika has the most haunting moments.
Irrfan Khan [Images] seems to be in effortless vein as the police inspector, and it's great to see genuine vim in the eyes of the often-underused Anil Kapoor [Images]. As the show's ebullient host Prem, Kapoor finds nefarious joy in tossing seemingly harmless digs at young Jamal, and the actor sinks his teeth into the part as he masterfully alternates between an on-camera and off-camera persona, ego and arrogance giving way to silken charm soon as the lights are on. He shares a bathroom moment with Patel that leads to inevitable goosepimples -- not once but twice, in the moment itself and its eventual aftermath -- and the performance is a chilling one.
Particularly laudable also, among the film's many revelations, is Ankur Vikal, who plays Maman, the Fagin of this particular tale, a begging-industry villain with a penchant for a particular Krishna bhajan. His character is the film's only absolute baddie, and he plays it stunningly, repulsively well. As for the bhajan itself, Darshan Do Ghanshyaam was penned by Gopal Singh Nepali and not Soordas, as Slumdog tells us.
But then in a world where Millionaire is broadcast live, where Kareena Kapoor [Images] from Yuva [Images] dances when Kareena from Don should, and where little municipal schools feature Alexander Dumas in the syllabus, the tiniest details clearly don't matter. All that does matter is that everybody -- repeat, everybody -- gets up and dances.
And A R Rahman more than sees to that, in his own inimitable way. You'll see. That the director is from farflung Ireland and not right here in Mumbai -- not that you can tell, while watching -- is even more reason to celebrate this film. Grin through the joyous end-credits and pour forth your salutations to this magnificent tale of humanity's hope and hurdles, of the director's Bombaylove and his Bachchanmania, and of Jamal and his ridiculously irresistible heart.
Boylesa'ab, salaam.
Verdict:5/5