|
Release date:
|
June 23, 2017
|
|
Director:
|
Kabir Khan
|
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Salman Khan,
Sohail Khan, Matin Rey Tangu, Om Puri, Zhu Zhu,
Mohammad Zeeshan Ayyub, Yashpal Sharma, Brijendra Kala, Isha Talwar, Cameo: Shah Rukh
Khan
Hindi
|
“Kya tumhe yakeen hai, partner?” Do you have faith? Confidence?
Conviction? Do you believe?
The question is repeated
throughout writer-director Kabir Khan’s Tubelight,
in which Salman Khan plays a Kumaoni man waiting for his brother to return from
the India-China war of 1962. It has its origins in the 2015 Hollywood venture Little Boy on which this film is based,
in which the boy Pepper’s actions were driven by these words of Jesus Christ in
the New Testament of the Bible: “…For truly I say unto you, if you have faith
as small as a mustard seed, you can say unto this mountain, ‘Move from here to
there,’ and it will move. And nothing shall be impossible for you.” (Matthew
17:20)
In Tubelight, the child hero of Little
Boy who is plagued by insecurities about his small size, becomes a
slow-witted adult called Laxman Singh Bisht who is taunted by the local bully
Narayan (played by Mohammad Zeeshan Ayyub); Jesus and a kindly Christian priest
are replaced by Mahatma Gandhi and the elderly Gandhian gentleman Banne Chacha
(Om Puri) who is a sort of spiritual guide to the protagonist; and a father
away fighting in World War II becomes Laxman’s brother Bharat (Sohail Khan)
fighting the Chinese. The title of this film, of course, is a reference to the
colloquialism (cruel, in this case) that is used by Narayan & Co to equate
Laxman’s congenitally imperfect intellect with the time it takes for a
tubelight to come on.
Laxman and Bharat lost their
parents when they were very young, and have been everything to each other ever
since. When Bharat leaves their town of Jagatpur for the battlefield, Laxman
becomes convinced that his faith can bring back his beloved sibling.
Meanwhile, Liling and her son Guo
move into Jagatpur and are tormented by Narayan who assumes that they are
Chinese and therefore, the enemy. As it turns out, their origins, his mistreatment of them and Laxman’s
reaction are a decisive slap in the face of pseudo patriots currently
dominating the national discourse in India, demanding that all of us – but
especially religious minorities, liberals across faiths and Kashmiri Muslims –
wear our patriotism on our sleeve, and constantly asking for proof of our love
for Bharat Mata. Like them, in Narayan’s worldview too, anyone who can be
deemed “the other” – Liling, Guo, even Laxman – is a potential target of suspicion,
violence and/or contempt.
Since this is a Kabir Khan film,
it goes without saying that it is steeped in political commentary from start to
finish. In Kabir’s hands, every word, every look, every turn of phrase takes on
a special meaning, especially in the context in which the film has been made.
There is a passage in which Laxman, initially swayed by prejudice himself,
demands that Guo prove his Indianness by shouting “Bharat Mata ki jai” and, later, by speaking Hindi. The boy’s
differing reactions to the two demands are both hilarious and telling.
This is the sort of material few
Bollywood directors would dare to feature in such a massive, big-budget film.
Kabir dares. The man who risked giving us Bajrangi Bhaijaan just a year after Narendra Modi won the general election pulls no
punches two years later.
For his courage, above all else,
he deserves kudos. But good cinema is not about courage alone. Tubelight works in the first half
because its messaging is subtle and woven into an endearing story filled with
humour and warmth, and because it pointedly tells us not to be as literal in
our interpretation of the point it makes as Laxman is with Banne Chacha’s
wisdom. It flounders repeatedly in the second half though, when it begins to
stretch itself, loses much of its layering and becomes overtly manipulative.
Don’t get me wrong. I love being
reduced to tears by a film, and I spent a considerable part of the
post-interval portion happily crying, because what was playing out on screen
has such stinging resonance when seen in the light of what is happening off
screen in the real India. There was no need, therefore, for the insertion of
two maudlin songs in the second half. Tinka
tinka dil mera was particularly infuriating, and both numbers felt as if
they had been put there because the director did not have enough faith in his
story’s ability to move us and wanted a safety net. You know, just in case.
Even the upbeat Radio felt like an afterthought, as if
to compensate any audience member bored by the gravity of the film’s theme. It
is Tubelight’s equivalent of the loud
Punjabi wedding song ‘n’ dance number that is now a commercial Hindi film
cliché. Sure it is fun, but it is also completely incongruous considering the
kind of film that this is.
Besides, the screenplay of Bajrangi Bhaijaan (by Kabir, Parveez
Shaikh and K.V. Vijayendra Prasad) was comprehensive and well-rounded, whereas
this one (by Kabir and Shaikh) is not as nuanced and well thought out. (Spoiler
alert) The writers might want to consider, for instance, why it was necessary
to make Liling and Guo Indians of Chinese origin, rather than citizens from any
of the sister states of the North-east, and what precious meaning has been lost
by making this choice. Elsewhere, Banne Chacha seems confused beyond a point by
the effect his words have had on Laxman and fades away. (Spoiler alert ends) This
is a pity because the late Om Puri is better utilised in the first half of Tubelight than he has been in the highly
acclaimed Death In The Gunj that is
also now in theatres, and unlike his somewhat listless performance in that
film, here in Tubelight there is
enough to remind us of the great actor he once was.
While reams of screen space are
given to Laxman, not enough time is spent on developing the supporting
characters, especially Liling and Guo. Zhu Zhu is beautiful, Matin Rey Tangu is
utterly lovable, and both are clearly gifted actors, but the mother and son
they play feel more like props than full-fledged people who we can invest in.
In fact, the considerate Major Tokas (played nicely by the always wonderful Yashpal
Sharma) is much better written than these two. Frankly, so is the character
played by a very sexy-looking (I’m-not-trying-to-camouflage-my-age kind of sexy)
Shah Rukh Khan in a significant cameo.
Liling and Guo are a far cry from
the well-fleshed-out Shahida and Chand Nawab of Bajrangi Bhaijaan.
The two things that remain consistent
and commendable throughout Tubelight are
the polished cinematography by Kabir’s long-time associate Aseem Mishra and (possible
spoiler ahead) the writers’ non-conformist, non-formulaic determination not to
force a romance into their storyline.
At the centre of Tubelight’s balance sheet is Salman
Khan. He is both the film’s biggest asset and its greatest liability. Salman’s
acting limitations are painfully evident in this film and I kept wondering what
Tubelight might have been if Laxman
had been played by Irrfan Khan or Nawazuddin Siddiqui, or even Hrithik Roshan
under his father’s controlled direction.
In fact, Salman here seems to be
drawing on Hrithik’s Rohit from Koi Mil
Gaya and the contrast between the two stars’ abilities is embarrassing.
That said, it is obvious that the pre-release attention this film has received
has been almost entirely due to his megastar presence. I have to also admit to
being relieved that at this stage of his career, when he could play it safe
with conventional projects, he is at least trying to do something different and
is taking on films that many other major stars might consider politically
risky.
There is so much to celebrate in Tubelight, that it hurts to point out
what is wrong with it. This is a brave film yet so much of its bravery is lost
in the over-wrought tone of the second half and the strained acting by its
leading man.
Still, with Tubelight, my glass is half full and not half empty. When your head
points out several exasperating aspects of a film and you still find yourself
weeping with it, there is something to be said about the director’s ability to strike
an emotional chord. Whatever be my reservations, the big takeaway for me from Tubelight is that Salman Khan and Kabir
Khan have once again teamed up in trying times to deliver a resounding snub to
bigotry.
Rating
(out of five stars): **1/2
|
CBFC Rating (India):
|
U
|
|
Running time:
|
136 minutes
|
This
review has also been published on Firstpost:
Film
still courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/tubelightkieid/
No comments:
Post a Comment