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Monday, June 16, 2008

The Hero: Love Story Of A Spy

Release Year: 2003
Country: India
Starring Sunny Deol, Preity Zinta, Priyanka Chopra, Amish Puri, Kabir Bedi, Rajpal Yadav
Director: Anil Sharma
Writer: Shaktimaan
Music by Uttah Singh
Choreography by Ganesh Acnabya
Producers: Ganesh Nankoosingh, Dhirajlal Shah, Hasmukh Shah, Pravin Shah


It's with a mixture of pride and fear that I tackle The Hero: Love Story Of A Spy. Fear, because my feeble knowledge of Bollywood films and stars will surely be put to the test. But, by now, I figure I know my way around a spy film, so I am proceeding optimistically, figuring that if I make a botch of it on a Bollywood level, I can at least look it at on an espionage level (and scrape out of this with a small amount of dignity intact).

The Hero: Love Story Of A Spy is a big budget Bollywood spectacular. At the time of it's release it was the most expensive Hindi film to date. And it certainly looks like all the money was thrown in all the right places. There are some spectacular action sets pieces, and the location cinematography is excellent.

The film opens in Toronto Canada, and the Canadian Security Intelligence Service are honouring a top secret agent from India, Arun Kumah (Sunny Deol). The ceremony is packed with well wishers waving Canadian and Indian flags, and hordes of reporters and photographers all trying to get an interview with Kumah. Kumah's responses are humble and low key. He quickly slips into a waiting limousine and is whisked away to the airport, and on board a plane, which presumably taking him back home.


During the flight, we flash back to three (possibly four) years earlier. Kumah tells us: "The mission started on the day Ishaq Khan, chief of Pakistan's ISI hatched a deadly plot."

Ishaq Khan (Amish Puri – For those who haven't being paying attention - Yes he was the evil Mola Ram in Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom) outlines his plan to his superiors unaware that a tiny surveillance camera has been planted in the room by the RAW (Indian Secret Service). The plan is a simple one: to regain control of Kashmir. Because Pakistan cannot openly attack India, the Pakistani government is allowing a group of militants to steal a nuclear bomb and do the dirty work for them. The plan is to be called Operation Nishan.

The RAW discredits Pakistan by revealing the footage from the meeting to the world. This stops the attack, but Khan is still trying to cause havoc. Next he is in New York and he is attempting to bribe the U.N. Under Secretary. He wants the Under Secretary to discredit the RAW and Indian Government and insist that the footage was a hoax. His plan almost works, except for one thing. It wasn't the Under Secretary he was bribing, but Agent Arun Kumah in disguise. Khan is arrested and taken away.

After his success Kumah is assigned to a new mission. He is to pose as Major Batra, a military commander in Sopore region of Kashmir. To avoid confusion, for the next portion of this review I will refer to Agent Kumah as 'Batra'.

Onwards. We finally get to the title sequence. And in true Bollywood fashion we get a song and dance number. For those who have never seen a Bollywood film before, may have been wondering whether a tough violent spy thriller would have songs and dancing in it? In this case, the answer is a big YES. But more about the singing and dancing later. Under the titles Batra drives to his new protectorate accompanied by the squad of soldiers under his control. Along the way they encounter a road block. The villagers of Rishiki have a flock of sheep blocking the road. Usually the villagers demand a donation from travellers before they will move their flock. The soldiers do not respond to blackmail well, and fire their guns into the air. The sheep and villagers scatter. Left behind in the stampede is Reshma (Preity Zinta), a beautiful young girl from the village. Batra takes pity on her and gives her a donation anyway.

In general, the villagers of Rishiki are very suspicious of the Indian soldiers. In the past, they have been victimised and treated badly. They do not expect things to change with Batra's arrival. But Batra's mantra is: "Give then love, and you will be loved. Give them hatred, and you will be hated!"


Batra is a benevolent governor and he arrives at the village with provisions for everybody. He provides food for the village, books for the schools, and medicine for the hospital. Eventually he wins over the trust and respect of the Kashmiri people.

One of the first to respond to Batra is Reshma. They slowly form an attachment. Initially she just brings him scraps of information about informers and enemy agents. But one afternoon, Batra is involved in a gunfight with four enemy agents who were attempting to cross the border. During the fight, one of the agents produces a grenade and throws in at Batra. Batra evades the blast, but the explosion starts an avalanche in the mountains. Batra flees but is soon run down by the wall of snow that rolls down the mountain. But Reshma finds him and takes him to shelter. He is cold and in shock. She spends the night with him to keep him warm. Now in a James Bond film, this would all seem very tame. But in an Indian film, two un-married people spending the night together is not the done thing. In fact, Reshma's actions could have her driven from the village in disgrace.

Well nothing of the sort happens. And Batra and Reshma's love for each other has grown. But Batra is torn between love and duty. Being a good soldier, he chooses duty and prepares to send Reshma across the border on a dangerous mission. But first she must be trained, which leads us into our second musical interlude.

The story moves forward and Reshma heads across the border and poses as a servant at a complex run by the Pakistani military. The mission ends up being a dangerous one, and Reshma has to make a mad dash to get back across the border to safety, but she has procured a piece of evidence that shows that Ishaq Khan is not being held in prison, as the majority of the world believe.

That is the end of Batra's time in Kashmir, and he is to return to duty elsewhere. But he is not leaving empty handed. He is going to take Reshma with him and they are going to get married. On New Years Eve, as fireworks fill the sky, a very lavish wedding ceremony takes place in a palatial glass domed building. This is the perfect setting for the third big Bollywood dance and song routine. The song is 'Dil mein hai pyar' and thematically its motif's haunt the film. Lyrics, translating as 'May the scorpion get the one who lies', and 'May the scorpion get me if I am lying' are peppered throughout the production. The lyric has a duality about it, applying to both a 'declaration of love' in the case of Batra and Reshma, or as a punishment for wrong doing, in the case of the villains of the piece.


Speaking of the 'Villains' of the piece, Ishaq Khan hasn't taken lightly to Batra's activities in Kashmir. And during the wedding celebration he has planned some entertainment of his own. He has planted a bomb in the building. I must say it is visually a very good set piece when the bomb goes off. One minute, everybody is dancing and singing, and the next, the glass dome of the palace has exploded and a giant orange fireball is engulfing the dancefloor. The palace is next to a river and as the whole building lurches and shakes, the balcony collapses and the guests start to slide into the river, Reshma tries to hold on, but loses her grip and drops into the water. Batra tries to get to her, but another explosion rocks the palace and he is thrown forward, even further into the water. He tries to find Reshma, but the current is too strong. Finally he is swept ashore, where he finds one of Reshma's wedding bracelets. That night, over one hundred people were killed. Many bodies were never found, including Reshma's.

The tone of the film changes now, and it becomes quite a violent and explosive revenge flick. Batra, now vows to avenge the death of so many people, and to expose Ishaq Khan's evil plans. I think this is a good point to leave the synopsis. By now you are aware of the motivations of the main characters, and what Batra's mission is. And believe me, this is only the tip of the iceberg. The story still has a long way to go, and quite a few twists and turns as we follow Khan's trail from Pakistan to Canada.

Now I know what you're thinking –– well at least what the Bond fans are thinking –– yes the story does have a few similarities to On Her Majesty's Secret Service –– Super Agent falls in love with girl / Marries girl / Girl gets killed on Wedding Day. But I think if you're going do this kind of spy love story, you may as well start with one of the best as a template and work from there, and that's exactly what this film does. The film doesn't stop at Reshma's death. In fact it becomes a catalyst for Batra to become a more insular and ruthless agent (an idea that is being expanded upon in the next Bond film Quantum Of Solace, after the death of Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale).


In a film of this kind, I think it's appropriate to mention the musical interludes. There are six big production numbers in The Hero: Love Story Of A Spy, and each of them is quite impressive. The numbers are Tere shaher ka, Tum bhi na maano, Dil mein hai pyar I, O maari koyal, In mast nighaon se, Dil mein hai pyar II. I do not speak Hindi, so I have no idea what the titles mean, but for those that do, they may provide a little insight into the story. The costumes and the sets and/or locations are truly amazing. There is an astonishing amount of colour and movement on the screen. And the choreography seems to be up to scratch too. If I have a criticism of the musical numbers, is that they are quite lengthy. These are not your three-minute pop songs. Each song takes around six to ten minutes, which is great if you are watching the movie for the singing and dancing. But I am looking at it from the 'spy-movie' perspective, and the movie already clocks in at a healthy 160 minutes. The dance numbers slow the narrative down, and turn what could be a simple stripped down spy-flick into a marathon affair.

The film as a whole is an interesting variation on the spy film that I am used to. I am not prepared to say it's a bad film, because it has a lot of good elements. By the same time, I can't call it good, primarily because of it's excessive length, and it's attitude towards Pakistan. Sure, in the real world India and Pakistan have their differences, but presenting the conflict as a violent cartoon, and justifying it with some clumsy jingoistic speeches, isn't the way forward.

I think you'll have to make up your own mind about this curiosity. It's a strangely affecting film, that lingers in the memory long after you've watched it –– well, certain scenes anyway. If you're a spy fan, there is a lot of 'classic' spy imagery. If you're a Bollywood fan, there's certainly enough hip shaking and shimmying to please on that level too.

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posted by David at | 3 Comments


Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Naksha

DIGG THIS ARTICLE. 2006, India. Starring Sunny Deol, Vivek Oberoi, Sameera Reddy, Jackie Shroff, Suhasini Mulay, Navni Parihar, Liliput, Mridula Chandrashekar. Directed by Sachin Bajaj. Written by Milap Zaveri and Tushar Hiranandani.

For anyone who ever watched Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and was disappointed that, for all its over-the-top absurdities, it didn't feature a scene where Harrison Ford punches a midget and makes him fly across a field, then Naksha is the movie for you. Only it's not Harrison ford doing the punching; it's action cinema mainstay Sonny Deol. But hell, if anyone in the world is going to punch a midget and make him fly across a field, then it's going to be Sonny. Jackie Chan may have tried it at some point, but he's past the days of being able to do that anymore -- although he is an appropriate actor to bring up in our discussion of this movie, as although Naksha gets compared to Raiders of the Lost Ark (because all adventure films get compared to Raiders), the films it more accurately resembles would be the modern-setting adventure films of the late, great Cannon Studios, like Treasure of the Four Crowns or that thing where Chuck Norris and Lou Gossett, Jr. bicker and hunt for gold or whatever; or, perhaps even more closely, Naksha resembles the globe-trotting adventure antics of Hong Kong adventure films like Jackie Chan's two superb Armor of God films and Michelle Yeoh's entertaining but fabulously awful The Touch. In fact, if you took the armor from Armor of God (although, technically, we never even see the armor, do we?) and plopped it into the finale of The Touch, with a dollop of The Rundown thrown in for good measure, you'd basically have Naksha, the tale of two brothers and a tag-along hot chick who traverse the mountainous jungle wilderness in search of a secret temple and a sacred relic that could turn villain Jackie Shroff into an invincible superman, instead of turning him into the twin of French actor Jean Reno, which seems to be nature's own plan for Shroff.


Pretty boy Viveik Oberoi stars as Vicky, a fun-loving goofball who likes to spend his night at sexy dance clubs where the singers implore you to "shake what your momma gave you," even though poorly proofread subtitles insist that they are saying "shake what your momma told you" (and this after they tell is the lyrics to "Sway are "when the rubber rhythm starts to play"). I generally don't pick on subtitles, especially on DVDs that are marketed to a population that speaks something other than English. The inclusion of English subs is a nice consideration for the rest of us, and so I don't really complain when things stray from precise grammar. But still, man -- you should at least be able to properly subtitle in English the lines that are actually delivered in English. I only say this because I was all into shaking what my momma gave me, but then if I am only able to shake what my momma told me, I'm not gong to be allowed to shake anything other than Shake and Bake -- and going to a sexy dance club to shake a bag of raw chicken and crumblings is not what I'd consider getting my money's worth.


While hosting a bachelor party for his pal, Vicky meets dancer Riya (Sameera Reddy), who chastises him for being a low down dirty dog and such, and that's pretty much that. But when Vicky learns that his father, a famed archaeologist who died mysteriously some years before, may have been murdered while trying to protect a map to a sacred relic, he suddenly kicks himself into intrepid adventurer mode and sets out to find the lost relic -- which happens to be the armor and earrings worn by Karna during his legendary battle with Arjun, as described in the Hindu book The Mahabharata (which is a religious book in much the same way The Old Testament is: presumably -- and often verifiable -- historical events are mixed with or attributed to the intervention of gods and the supernatural). Whoever dons the armor and earrings will be rendered invincible.


Also searching for the armor is the dastardly Bali Bhaiyya, played by Bollywood veteran Jackie Shroff. Bhaiyya has no real back story other than the fact that he's the one who is responsible for the death of Vicky's dad. Exactly who Bhaiyya is, we never really find out, but adventure movies always have a villainous guy looking for the same treasure. In Raiders it was Belloq, in The Touch it was Count Dracula himself, Richard Roxburgh. And here it's Jackie Shroff. They're all pretty much the same: possessed of seemingly unlimited wealth (while the hero always seems to be rougher around the edges) and an unlimited number of incompetent but well-armed henchmen. Said henchmen quickly pick up Vicky's trail, and although he proves himself an able enough fighter (though the fights themselves can't stand up to similar fights in either The Touch or, most certainly, the mind-blowing fights -- few and far between though they may be -- in Armor of God), he is soon overpowered and find himself strung up in a vacant building, about to be eviscerated by Bhaiyya's goons.

Until, that is, Sonny Deol crashes through the ceiling in slow motion and starts blowing cats away and punching them across the room.


Up until this point, the film has been pretty so-so, with a typical adventure film "discovering the plot" build up and a lead who was neither good nor bad, but simply a null value that wasn't going to engage me for the full film. But as soon as Sonny comes smashing through the building like The Incredible Hulk, wearing his old school Banana Republic safari man hat (some of you may remember when Banana Republic was entirely safari and adventure themed -- they had pretty awesome catalogs back then, digest size and printed on thick brown paper and full of stories about rum and clippers and such in between pictures of bush hats and waterproof duster jackets), well that's when the movie actually begins. From there on out, there's a few minutes sprinkled here and there dedicated to our main cast bickering with each other, but for the most part it's all Sonny beating the crap out of people and walking in slow motion and shit blows up around him.

Sonny plays Veer, Vicky's long lost brother. It turns out that when Vicky called his mom to tell her where he was, she in turn called Veer and asked him to bring Vicky home. So Veer then used his incredible powers of teleportation to get to the remote little village where Vicky was being held captive, then used his incredible powers of ESP (or possible Google Maps) to locate the exact building in which Vicky was being held. Forget Karna's magic armor. Veer already seems possessed of near godlike omnipotence -- plus he can smash through buildings and punch guys so hard they fly across the room.


Vicky properly saved, Veer goes about the task of trying to bring the rascally younger brother home -- which proves difficult, as Vicky is nothing if not sneaky. Things get further complicated when, in the middle of the goddamned jungle far from home, the two brothers run into Riya, trapped in an out-of-control raft in a raging river. Apparently, she went on holiday and booked a white water adventure with an outfitter who takes women in their regular street clothes and plops them into a novelty-grade raft and sets them out into class IV rapids without partners or guides.

The movie spends a little too much time with the trio monkeying about in the jungle (though sadly, and surprisingly, there are no hijinks or comedy bits involving actual monkeys), but that's forgivable as soon as Bhaiyya and his goons catch up and we get a parade of exploding trucks, kungfu fights, shotguns that seem to fire atomic bombs, and a scene in which the heroes run afoul of a tribe of pygmies that whip out some serious kungfu skills on Sonny (in a scene lifted wholesale from The Rundown -- even going so far as to hire an Ernie Reyes Jr. look-alike for the fight) before everyone makes up and gets drunk and dances through the village. And on the village. I don't know how happy the midget tribe was to have a big lug like Sonny Deol dancing on their roofs. I mean, if he can smash through the roof of full-size building, who knows what kind of damage he could do to the mud and grass hut of a guy named Liliput.


Eventually, everyone gets back to the business of trying to recover Karna's artifacts, leading to a big showdown in the hidden mountain temple, which is of course stuffed to the gills with booby traps (most of which are stolen from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) and candles that light themselves.

Naksha is a pretty dumb movie, but that doesn't mean that I didn't like it. I liked it a lot. But then, keep in mind that I like pretty much all adventure movies, even those Tomb Raider movies no one else liked (in fact, I loved those), and even Treasure of the Four Crowns. Naksha is better than Treasure of the Four Crowns, and better than The Touch, but it's still no Raiders of the Lost Ark. But then, nothing is (not even the other Indiana Jones films), so it's not really all that fair or useful to say a movie isn't as good as Raiders, which just might be the greatest adventure movie ever made. Still, measured against the rest of the world's adventure films (including those Antonio Margheriti adventure films starring David Warbeck), Naksha measures up pretty well despite the fact that the plot depends on a couple tremendously gigantic coincidences. At this point in the history of adventure films, however, I'm used to just looking the other way when a female from earlier in the movie shows up at random in a raft on a river in the middle of a remote jungle. Or when Sonny Deol travels at the speed of light to the location where his little brother is being tortured. Or the fact that everyone solves all the treasure map's clues by sort of staring off into the distance until "revelation music with chanting in it" plays and gives them the answer to the puzzle.


But there's a word for watching a guy sit for ten years trying to decipher clues on an esoteric map, and that word is "archeology." And since real archaeologists rarely get in kungfu fights with midgets or get involved in magical battles in secret temples, lets leave their work as the purview of The Discovery Channel, and let's let adventure films be populated by guys like Sonny Deol blowing up trucks and swinging around sawed off shotguns.

You may notice that, while Viveik Oberoi is ostensibly the hero of this movie, I've barely mentioned him. That's because he's not even there. Not really. There's a reason Ajay Devgan is the guy everyone remembers from Company, even though Viveik was the main character, and there's a reason we're talking about Sonny a lot more in Naksha. Oberoi doesn't really strike me as a bad actor; it's just that he spends pretty much the entire movie mugging for the camera and going over-the-top in a way that makes him less like the hero and more like the hero's odious comic relief sidekick. Which leaves the actual hero work squarely on the beefy shoulders of workhorse Sonny Deol, where it belongs. Sonny is getting on in years but I still have absolutely no problem buying him as an action hero. I also have no problem at all buying Sonny as a legitimate tough guy. The trend these days is to feature uber-scultped male model types as action heroes. Sure the bodies look good in a gym, but do any of these lads strike you as someone you'd want to depend on in a fight? Who has your back: John Abraham or Sonny Deol? I'd be much happier knowing that a guy like Sonny Deol, with his treetrunk arms and a little bit of fat, has my back. When I reviewed Kamal Hassan's Abhay a while back, I compared Hassan's build to Joe Don Baker, or to many of the beefy redneck guys with whom I grew up. Ask 'em to show you their six pack, and they'll take you to the fridge. But you damn sure know that when push comes to shove, for all their beer guy and excess body fat, these guys are more than capable of hammering pretty much anyone into the ground. Sonny definitely falls in that category. When Viveik Oberoi punches someone, you sort of shrug and go, "Eh, it's a movie." But when Sonny punches someone, you believe that someone would fly across the room and through a wall.


The other person to pay attention to in this film is Jackie Shroff. Again, we see that while Viveik may have been seen as the handsome, young lead, this movie really belongs to the veterans. Where as Oberoi's over-the-top mugging comes off as lame, Shroff gets to go just as over the top as the villain of the piece, but he executes his scenery chewing turn with ace perfection. As I mentioned earlier, he is almost totally devoid of character. He is evil because the movie says he is evil, and because he is willing to gun down a village full of kungfu midgets. But beyond that, the movie pretty much relies on you recognizing a well established adventure film archetype. And honestly -- is his sinister plan really worth all this effort to prevent? The armor may make you invincible, but I still bet it would be pretty hard for one guy wearing heavy armor to conquer the entire world. I guess these villains never really expect to succeed in their mad schemes, so they don't think through the actual logistics of their proposed global conquest. But whatever the short-comings of his plan may be, Jackie still gives his all despite being in such a goofy movie. You could jettison Oberoi and Sameera Reddy from this film entirely and just leave the whole thing up to Deol and Shroff, and you'd probably be better off for it.

Speaking of which -- I almost forgot Sameera Reddy was in this movie. She has absolutely no purpose other than to be the pretty girl and get captured every now and again by Shroff's goons. Her turn isn't really bad -- we're not talking Kate Capshaw here -- but there's certainly no point to it, either. So at least she's no Kate Capshaw, but she's also no Karen Allen. She looks good in the musical numbers though (of which there are only a couple), and I guess that's about all she's supposed to do.


Plotwise, you can pretty much guess that this movie isn't exactly a work of art. Coincidences abound, things happen for no reason, and people just seem to appear in places with very little effort or explanation, sort of like how Tony Jaa was always able to teleport to wherever he thought someone would be who might know where his elephants were in Tom Yung Goong. within the realm of adventure films, the plot is actually better -- or at least more sensical -- than many, but that's really not saying a lot. The plot isn't really the point here, though. The armor is just a MacGuffin that allows the movie to indulge in a parade of exploding trucks, shotgun battles, and kungfu fights. And in this capacity, Naksha delivers the goods in excess. Really, in excess. No truck explodes when five trucks could explode instead. And nothing just explodes when it could explode and shoot end over end, fifty feet up into the air. And no one gets punched and falls down when they could get punched and fly like a hundred feet back and through a wall or a tree or a windshield. The action is way over the top, well into the realm of the cartoonish, but it's still pretty good fun. It does make for a weird transition when the wacky action has serious consequences, but awkward shifts in tone are hardly the sole property of Naksha.


I've brought up both Armor of God and The Touch fairly often in this review, which probably doesn't mean a whole lot to people haven't seen either of those films. First of all, if you haven't seen Armor of God yet, you should. The bad slapstick comedy is more than made up for when Jackie starts kicking people so hard it makes them flip over backwards, hit their shins on the edge of a wooden table, then flip over backwards again before hitting the ground (you really just need to see it). It's the second most painful looking abuse Jackie has visited upon a stuntman (the first being in Police Story, when he kicks that dude on the escalator and makes him flip backward and land chest first on the edge of the metal stairs and then he bounces -- again, you have to see it to understand just how painful it looks). As for The Touch -- not so much. It's really pretty bad, even though I still watch it from time to time just because I like adventure movies, and the cinematography is nice to look at, and so is Michelle Yeoh. Naksha resembles The Touch in that it takes the traditional adventure film and attempts to graft some sort of cultural religious context onto the action. In the case of The Touch, it was Buddhism, and obviously here it's Hinduism. However, I'd say the lessons in Hinduism (taught to us in cartoon format) to be taught by Naksha are about as trustworthy as the American history taught to us by National Treasure, so I wouldn't use this movie in place of reading the actual historical texts. Actually, I would. But you shouldn't.


It's this, and the supernatural ending, that makes Naksha feel like The Touch, though I would qualify that statement by saying that Naksha is a much more enjoyable movie. Director Sachin Bajaj finds himself in that position for the first time, and even though it looks like he got the job through the ancient tradition of nepotism (his father is a film distributor in India and is listed as the producer of Naksha), Bajaj handles the job well. Not perfectly, but well. The pacing is OK, there's a little too much reliance on slow-motion during action scenes (though this is a global trend and not anything unique to Bajaj), and the cinematography (by Vijay Arora, who does have a lot of experience in the field) nicely captures the landscapes and contributes the exotic feel that is so important to a successful adventure film. Incidentally, The Touch was directed by a cinematographer-turned-director too, and while that film is frequently gorgeous, it's rarely good. If Bajaj was still a novice director, he at least had the good sense to surround him with a capable crew.


There's also a fair number of special effects which, for the most part, are realized fairly well. I don't know the exact budget of Naksha, but it sure wasn't small, and it showcases India's continually improving skill with CGI effects. Not everything is pulled off perfectly, but if I were to assume the budget to be roughly the same or slightly lower than The Touch, the effects in Naksha pretty much blow that film out of the water. That said, the CGI in The Touch was pretty awful, and Naksha doesn't even deserve to be dragged down to that level by an act of comparison. There are also a fair number of practical effects, as well as the kungfu fights. India, like pretty much the rest of the world, has never quite gotten the knack of filming a superb kungfu fight the way they can (or could) in Hong Kong. So there's no kungfu showdown of the quality we get at the end of Jackie Chan's Armor of God when Jackie takes on an entire monastery full of evil monks and a gang of leather-clad, high-heel wearing kungfu amazons. But then, even Hong Kong and even Jackie can't deliver fight scenes like that anymore, so that style of hyper-kinetic, bone jarring acrobatic kungfu seems to be the exclusive domain of Tony Jaa.

That said, I wouldn't really expect to see someone with Sonny Deol's build going all 1980s Jackie Chan in a movie. Deol is a classic tough guy, and his job is to move slower but with thunderous power. The fight choreography in Naksha is OK, maybe slightly above average if you average out the quality of fight scenes all over the world. It does rely a lot on the gravity defying wirework that is so en vogue and has been so since the 90s in Hong Kong (though it was only discovered recently by the rest of the world). But since the fight scenes are, for the most part, possessed of a cartoonish over-the-top quality anyway, the wirework doesn't detract. And Sonny still looks solid just punch or kicking guys square in the jaw. I guess Viveik Oberoi gets in some action, too, but honestly -- is he still even in this movie?

However well Deol might acquit himself in the action scenes, and however charismatic and likable a performer may be, one thing that does astound me about the man is that, after some twenty-odd years or so as a leading man, the guy still hasn't learned to dance. Naksha has only a few musical numbers, and Deol is involved in only two of them. And one of those isn't even in the movie. It's just a music video tacked on to the credits. And it's here that Deol's proficiency for the dancin' rears its ugly head. The other musical number in which he's involved is the drunken revelry with the tribe of kungfu midgets, and his job there is mostly to drink, smash some clay pots, and stomp around like a joyous madman. That he can do. But the non-sequiter final musical number pasted into the closing credits calls for actual dancing, and while Viveik and Sammera wriggle and writhe about with skill, Deol dances with all the grace, rhythm, and timing of Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster. I don't know how you stick around in Bollywood as long as Sonny has without learning how to dance, but somehow he manages. Still, when you think about it, if you have an action-packed kungfu adventure movie full of lost treasure, secret maps, and exploding trucks, do you want your hero to look good in the post-adventure dance number, or do you want him to look good kicking ass in the rest of the movie? Let Viveik and Sameera have their paltry moment to shine in the "freaky freaky Friday night" closing credit song, because Deol owns the rest of the film. Actually, the director must have realized that dropping Deol into the middle of a bunch of dancers for a music video was a bad idea, because eventually, he stops making Sonny try to dance and just lets him lounge about surrounded by hot, squirming chicks -- which is the way things ought to be for Sonny.


I should probably mention that the songs in this movie are awful. The score is pretty much the de rigueur "faux tribal" orchestration so common to modern adventure films, with lots of enthusiastic "Ho! Whoa ho!" chanting and percussion punctuated by flutes and that "haunting moaning" for moments of introspection and revelation. If you've seen an adventure film in the last fifteen years, you pretty much know the score. But the songs for the musical numbers -- my God! The song where they party with the pygmies is OK as it's just an extension of the score, and sounds like one of those "tribal music written by white guy" songs you hear on Globe Trekker. But then there's the "Shake what your momma gave you song" and the "freaky freaky Friday night" song -- there's a reason neither of these set the pop charts ablaze (as far as I can tell). The other song is performed when Jackie Shroff's standard issue "hot, evil mercenary chick in booty shorts" performs a little number for the goons, but honestly, I can't even remember how that sounds now, because all I can think about is that horrible "freaky freaky Friday night" song.

Both Oberoi and Deol were in a bit of a slump when they starred in this film, and Naksha didn't do a whole lot to revive them. It also seems that Naksha had a pretty big budget, and adventure/treasure hunt films of this nature are pretty scarce in the overall cinematic landscape of Indian cinema. I guess Bajaj was hoping the stars and the relative uniqueness of the genre would translate into box office success. No dice, though it was a fun effort despite the box office failure and mixed reviews in India, ranging from "dumb fun" to "mindless idiocy and harbinger of the end of Indian cinema." Some felt that it wasn't "Indian" enough (for that perhaps they should watch the Sonny Deol film Indian -- I mean, how much more Indian can you get than to call your film Indian), or more accurately, that it was too Hollywood. This is a criticism that has been leveled at a lot of cinema these days -- from Hong Kong to Korea to France (could Sachin Bajaj become the Luc Besson of India??? -- I mean, I already cracked that Jackie Shroff looks like Jean Reno, so this is the next logical step), and personally, it doesn't fly with me.


We are no longer in an era of localized, regional cinema. That era died the day DVD stores and movie review websites went online. The cinema of one country has always influenced the cinema of another. Even if the audience wasn't aware, the filmmakers certainly were. Italian spectacle films of the silent era influenced American filmmakers, who set out to incorporate the larger-than-life opulence into their own films. And then the Technicolor spectacles of Hollywood during the 50s in turn revived spectacle filmmaking in Italy during the 1960s. Westerns became spaghetti westerns which in turn were heavily influenced by Japanese samurai films. And now, Hong Kong action films of the previous two decades heavily influence American films, which in turn influence Hong Kong films. Thanks to the interconnectivity of the Web, fans and even casual filmgoers are more aware of this global exchange than ever before. I mean, twenty years ago, when I first started watching Hong Kong action films, I never would have dreamed I'd hear my parents speak with familiarity about Chow Yun-fat or Michelle Yeoh. So yes -- Naksha has some very Hollywood elements. It also has some very Indian elements, as well as elements of Hong Kong cinema and Luc Besson's crop of French action films that have destroyed French film the same way Naksha and Dhoom have destroyed Indian cinema.

I've never been a big fan of nation-state borders serving as barriers to artistic expression, and if the Internet has done anything positive besides deliver cheap, plentiful porn to the world, it's that it has facilitated the breakdown of walls between artists and fans across the world the way no fanzine or convention could ever dream of. So in this climate, what does it mean for a film or a genre to be "too Hollywood" or "not Indian enough?" Doesn't this confine film -- and all other forms of artistic expression -- to regionalized ghettos? If you film is an Indian film, it must fulfill these requirements, and it must not do these things. How is this mode of thinking in any way beneficial to filmmaking, or to art? How does this in any way encourage experimentation or evolution? At the same time, how does aping another country's cinema help cultivate the pieces of filmmaking that make your cinema unique on the global scene? Are we talking about genre topics, or technical aspects and camera tricks involved with filmmaking -- or does "too Hollywood" have less to do with the film and more to do with the moral values presented (for what it's worth, the moral values presented in Naksha include, "Indian mythology is awesome," "Don't conquer the world," and "stick by family")?


Of course, there's also the debate over what "destroyed such and such cinema" even means. Does applying techniques and values from Hollywood films somehow happen at the expense of obliterating that which makes another country's film unique? Isn't it possible to use the one without losing the other? I mean, Hollywood draws influence from all over the world, but no one is really saying that Hong Kong cinema destroyed Hollywood. In the end, "too Hollywood" is generally a criticism leveled at films by the same people who would still hate "Hollywood" even if they were American -- and here, Hollywood ceases to mean "Hollywood," or even "American" cinema, and instead is used as a synonym for "big, dumb popcorn movies," which are perceived by some as being automatically possessed of far less artistic merit or social value than smaller, quieter films. But then, this is again hardly an argument that restricts itself to India, or to any one country, and it has been raging pointlessly (though often times entertainingly so) since the birth of feature films.

In the case of Naksha, the film did well in large cities but tanked everywhere else -- and since most of India is everywhere else, you can't really get by without it. Does a film like this represent a rift between urban areas, where perhaps people are more open to change, and rural areas, where something not identified as traditional is met with suspicion and hostility? If so, once again this is hardly a situation unique to India, but it does spotlight one of the great problems we face as our world becomes more connected and the varied cultures of the world continue to collide and meld into something new. It seems the more some people want to move ahead into this new arena, the more other people want to pull away from it. And both sides of this tug-of-war have plenty that justifies their position.

I was originally -- before I derailed myself into this random thought exercise -- going to review this movie with nary a mention of "Bollywood" other than as a passing reference, because I think the role of a movie on the global scene is more important than its role in a restricted subsection, even one as large as Bollywood. Other people, with a greater sense of national pride, or a greater concern over maintaining the purity of their culture against outside influences, rather than embracing global accessibility and co-mingling, obviously don't feel the same way, and I'm not going to make proclamations on who is wrong or right, even though it's obvious where I stand. From day one of Teleport City, we have roamed the globe in search of cool and outlandish movies -- that's why a review of an Indian film that is too Hollywood contains so many references to Hong Kong films, Tony Jaa, Luc Besson, and David Warbeck. As far as I'm concerned, our regional cinema is planet Earth -- and I only use that limit because the shipping on movies from Io is so expensive and takes twenty-two years. Plus, man, who wants to watch a movie full of pretentious Ionians chain smoking and mumbling about how the view of Jupiter looming in the sky so perfectly embodies their personal existential crisis -- and from what I've seen of Ionian cinema, that's pretty much all there is, as the Ionian Luc Besson has not yet come around to destroy Ionian cinema.

A review of a goofy, fun-loving flick like Naksha is hardly the best place for contemplation on the globalization and cross-pollination of culture, art, and entertainment, and this is certainly not meant as a defense of Naksha's sundry faults. It's hard to argue against anyone who claims this movie is stupid, because Naksha is pretty stupid. And that alone is enough to legitimately dismiss it as bad. I happen to have a different standard, though, and the movie was OK in my book. But what we're talking about here is not whether the film is good or bad, but whether it is too foreign or not, and whether such arguments have much meaning anymore.


I think it's valuable to look at a film in terms of its native cultural and industry context. It's important to understand the prevailing trends and cultural mores from which a film emerges. And in many ways, although people who frown upon pop culture are loathe to admit it, you can learna lot about people by learning about what people like in the pop culture and entertainment. There's no way to understand Indian films without making some effort to at least get the basics of Indian film and cultural history under your belt. At the same time, I also think it's important to remove films from that context and look at them as members of a more globalized cinema scene. In that sense, whether or not Naksha is "Bollywood enough," whatever that may mean, is hardly an important question for me. I don't care, to be honest. Others may care a lot, and that's just a matter of your point of view on things. I, personally, am not a "fan of Bollywood;" I'm a fan of film, wherever it may come from. But this debate probably deserves a more respectable forum than Naksha as reviewed by Teleport City, so I'll lay it to rest here unresolved. What matters most to me right now is, how does Naksha measure up against its contemporaries in adventure cinema from the rest of the world?

And honestly, despite the obvious script gaffs and Oberoi's mugging, Naksha holds up pretty well against the rest of the pack -- but depending on how dumb you think the rest of the pack is, you may enjoy this film a lot less than I did. It's got a playful sense of adventure, decent pacing, some fun fights, nice locations, solid veterans in Shroff and Deol, an appropriately supernatural blow-out for the finale, and lots of people tearing about in Land Rovers. Theater audiences may have met the film with a resounding, "meh," if they even took the time to do that, but I have to say, I really had fun.

Plus you know: kungfu fight between Sonny Deol and a guy who was like four feet tall.

Crap. I think I like the "freaky freaky Friday night" song...

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