SLB's Guzaarish....
...ran short of MAGIC....
What to tell about a film which is so rich and yet so superficial.......what to say about a film which has gr8 frames but shallow story...........what to say when Hrithik does wonders but still can't drag it off..............what to say when a person denies to leave his worlds of film and give common man a chance to see what he can............
SLB, like always tries his immense best to bring to life the surreal opulence of the old school theatrics in to our silver screen. "Guzaarish..." looses track of reality and remains in mind as only fantastically lit and exquisitely framed shots where narrative plays the role of a needle to string along the art on offer.
It is heartbreaking to see a director like SLB, who is so defiantly ostentatious, borrow plot points from foreign films like "My Left Foot"," Whose Life Is It Anyway","The Sea Inside","The Diving Bell and The Butterfly","The Illusionist" and "The Prestige". He wrongly tries to give his characters ridiculous heavy dialogues and falls for the regular beaten trap of revenge and jealousy as his sub plot, which gets introduced in the later part of the film without giving it any new or additional dimension.
From Christopher Nolan's "The Prestige", Bhansali borrows the sabotage angle between rival magicians, but that culminates in an over-simplistic redemption that adds nothing of any value to the core plot of this film. From "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly", Bhansali steals memorable moments like the one in which the wheelchair-bound hero struggles with a stubborn fly, until he resigns himself to live with it. But it's the Oscar-winning Spanish film "The Sea Inside" that the director plunders most liberally from, taking full scenes and the dynamics between key characters too. While you may be willing to overlook the plagiarism (although you shouldn't!), it's hard to forgive the sloppy writing. Euthanasia is a delicate and controversial issue, but the film never quite comes to grips with its theme of mercy killing. More than one character talks about the right to choose, but those scenes fail to punch you in the gut because the dialogues are so predictable and superficial.
Guzaarish.. opens with a quadriplegic Hrithik Roshan, helpless and suffering yet with conditioned hair and very well groomed beard who is tended by a nurse with blood red lipstick and a very sexy blouse. The whole film is about visual pleasure. Though there is a lot of emotions in display but it becomes very hard to feel for the characters when the film's more concerned with the appearance over anything else.
The crucifix symbolism (here in the form of Ethan’s earring), the billowing tapestries drawn apart to flood cavernous rooms with copious light, the murals with religious art, the theatrical production design (here literally underlined by the proscenium arch under which Ethan performs, emblazoned with the letter M – for Magic? Merlin? Mascarenhas?), the high relief sculptures of frozen-mask visages, the distant tolling of church bells, the God’s-eye-view camera angles, the employment of songs popularised by Nat King Cole (the film opens with an expressive rendition of Smile, written by Charlie Chaplin for Modern Times; later, What a Wonderful World makes an appearance) – they’re all there. They create a moment but before you can grasp it it fades to oblivion.
Apparently set in current day Goa (although this is a very different Goa from the one we saw in Bhansali's earliest and most sincere film, "Khamoshi"), much of this plot unfolds in the sprawling Mehboob Studios bungalow-set that stands in as the home of our protagonist.
Even as Roshan's Ethan Mascarenhas is campaigning for euthanasia, a young guy -- from back when Ethan was Merlin, magician extraordinare -- comes knocking, wanting to learn from the master.
This is a setup that could lead to much brilliance, but we never see the physically limited but mentally agile Ethan struggle to teach this slack jawed young man even a card trick: the film instead flashbacks to Ethan's own glory days, when he slides merrily up and down beams of light.
The laziest writing is saved for the courtroom, legalese thrown out in favor of lines soaked in extreme naivete. The intention is clear, the emotions are simple and yet laughable courtroom proceedings -- watch out for the attorney opposite Ethan claim suddenly that he is of unsound mind instead of merely claiming the exact opposite, that he's far too sound to be put down -- that turn it into far less than the film deserved.
For this is not a film not without its share of moments. As Ethan is wheeled into the courtroom, an enthused television journalist, wishing him luck, exhorts him thoughtlessly and smilingly to "break a leg." Mascarenhas bursts into laughter with the lunatic relief of a man glad for any scrap of anti-sympathy. Among the film’s funniest scenes are those depicting the tight-lipped tug-of-war between these two women over Ethan, who appears to be the only significant man in their lives. When, in her customary fashion, Devyani(The lawyer friend played by the excellent Shernaz Patel)) plops down on Ethan’s bed, beside him, Sofia(The overly possessive nurse played by Aishwarya) looks up from her embroidery and asks, a little too sweetly, “Can I get you a chair?” Soon after, in what is possibly the most civilised exchange of heated words in the history of the movies, they argue over the kitchen table about Ethan’s euthanasia. Between bites of bread and sips of drink, Devyani boasts about knowing Ethan from his “glory days,” well aware that for the past 12 years, it’s Sofia who’s been by his bedside. Had they been men, the scene might have ended with blood on the floor.
I don't know why I always feel that Bansali has an uneasy relationship with reality. Every time we move out of the hermetic ecosystem of Ethan’s mansion and into the real world – a radio-listener montage (Ethan hosts “the most joyful show in the whole world,” named Radio Zindagi), or the cheap sessions of courtroom theatrics where, instead of Bhansali’s customary framing of characters in relation to props and to each other, we keep cutting between an exhausting series of head shots and reaction shots – the film droops into dullness.
Hrithik Roshan, however, does his darnedest to keep us watching. Roshan’s vein-popping histrionics fit flawlessly on a character whose only vehicle for expression is his face. The casting works beautifully because of how he moves (the then-versus-now contrast is highlighted and double-underlined by his preternaturally fluid grace) and how he looks – even his double-thumb comes off like a magic effect. With his face framed by unruly tresses, he looks, at times, like a rock-star Jesus, never more so than when propped up against a support, crestfallen, as the judge reads out his verdict. Hrithik Roshan, visibly growing as an actor with every feature, is in terrific form here. Be it taking on raindrops, taking command of a pupil or even just a funeral, Roshan delivers with a calm appropriate to his bearded-messiah avatar.
And yet there is no exploration beyond the obvious, of how a person who loves you will never make you give up on your greatest passion. Even when, in an initially terrific moment Ethan finally performs a trick with white sheets, as a gift to the silly acolyte, it leads nowhere: symptomatic of the film; every trick needs a final flourish to become magical. It is sad that Bhansali, a filmmaker so keen to challenge the way we watch cinema, has to work in such obvious broad strokes, skimming the surface but hardly ever diving in.
The rest of the performances are mostly passable, and completely overshadowed by the leading man. Aishwarya Rai , as the nurse, is given a lot to work with, and makes use of as little of the potential as she can, instead trying to make her ruby lips the highlight of her role. Shernaz Patel is stirring as Ethan's committed lawyer friend, but made to spout much tripe in court. Aditya Roy Kapur, the magician's apprentice who doesn't really learn a thing, stands by rather uselessly, while Suhel Seth is most miscast as Ethan's doctor: sorry, Mr B, but it's impossibly hard to not giggle when watching Seth quiver and tear up. Still, bonus points for choosing mostly unfamiliar faces.
Ethan gruffly roars at the young magician, asking him what he'd choose if a girl he loves asked him to give up magic. The boy says, without hesitation, that he'd give up the magic. Ethan demands an explanation, and the boy -- moronic grin in place -- shrugs, "love above all else, sir."
The film starts off capably enough, but seems to lose patience midway through. Post-intermission big, messy chunks of plot are hurled at the audience, with some sleight of hand that never quite casts a spell, despite Sudeep Chatterjee's impressive yet standard-issue cinematography.
The film tries very hard to create a world of emotions and drama but falls straight on the face. "FAKE" is the word that echoes all through your mind...from Ash's victorian costumes, Hrithik singing "It's a Wonderful Life" (ruined the song for me for life) and when the understudy dresses like Raj Kapoor in Mera Naam Joker. And worse, when the villain's glass has a reflection of a spider's web in it just before the hero plunges to his paralysis. Except the protagonist all other characters seemed to be wasted. There's Vijay Crishna looking stern (as a judge should in a stage play). There's Seth. There's Rajit Kapoor pursing up his lips and mincing around as Mr Prosecutor. And yes, poor Ash Chandler as well as the rival Hugh Jackman kind of magician (did I mention the film also borrows heavily from The Prestige? No? Well it does). Oh yes, before I forget, there are also Prahlad Kakkar and Mahbanoo Mody Kotwal on a panel on TV discussing euthanasia. Then we should not forget gorgeuos Ash's husband,Makarand Paranjape.
Guzaarish starts off slow and beautiful, but gradually, sadly congeals into a wet mess.It's like an old Disney musical -- just without the wit. Or, ironically given this film's subject, the magic.
Here is a filmmaker who needs a playwright -- and, in equal measure, an occasional reminder that its a film not a set of postcards.
