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Nothing Extraordinary in the Market
Scenes from "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen"
THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN
(At PVR Saket
and other theatres)
REMEMBER THE days of colonialism? Or the Cutting of the Chinese Melon? Or the varied ways in which the suzerainty was challenged? Well, the Empire is once again in peril. And, as usual one man can come in the way of catastrophe and survival. We have Sean Connery in a role he never gets tired of portraying. But it is not his past that interests us. Not here anyway. Here he is all poised, sharp, ready for the moment. There is a cutting edge to his portrayal of Allan Quatermain, a man who kills his enemies as one swats a fly.
He is, however, not alone in this affair. There is a league of disparate and desperate individuals who must close ranks, overcome mutual suspicion. And save the day. Giving Connery's Quatermain company is our own Naseeruddin Shah as Captain Nemo. It is probably for the first time that we get to see a Bollywood guy in a pivotal role in a regular Hollywood film. It is a matter of pride for Shah. Wish one could say the same about the film too! With Nemo and Quatermain are Mina Harker who steals time to shoot and smooch, Rodney Skinner, an invisible man along with a secret service agent and a medic. Recruiting them all is a man called M. Together, they must overcome their chequered past, their animosity and save the civilisation. Director Stephen Norrington never allows the pace to slacken in this film based on Alan Moore and Ken O'Neill's comic books. Nor does the senselessness. And a film which starts with great promise gets lost in the cul de sac of repetitive action, often mindboggling, constantly nerve jangling. Even then it lacks in ruthlessness of war assaults, desperation of defence of the about-to-be-vanquished.
Be a part of this league only if you are Naseeruddin Shah fan and want to know if our man can keep Connery able company. For his part, Shah does. And that, along with Connery's mean act, is about the only saving grace.
MARKET
(At Regal and other theatres)
"Market", now showing at cinema halls across Delhi.
DIRECTOR JAI Prakash takes us to the prison of passion in "Market". Populated by girls poisoned with hope, nurtured with curious reticence, it presents a sullied spectacle of shallow youth, false promises. We have walked this street in the past with films like "Bazaar" and "Mandi". This time it is crassier, cruder. But it is also raw, untamed. It rankles, it hurts. It is meant to. Though Jai Prakash's film is dangerously close to a documentary at times, yet he deserves credit for staying focussed and coming up with a film which you may not enjoy watching but a film that gives you a reality byte.
It starts off from Hyderabad where an adolescent is pledged in marriage to a sheikh thrice her age. A week into marriage, a few other `feeling' uncles later, she finds herself on the one-way street to seduction and self-destruction. From there to Mumbai to Dubai, lust knows no barrier. Nor does the girl who now knows how to use her body as a paycheque.
The film has a striking similarity with the well-documented Amina case. It presents Manisha Koirala in a role she should have done at least half a decade ago. Now as Muskan there is no ache of the caged bird in her voice nor do her eyes radiate successive brushes with surging passion. If at the threshold of adult life, her eyes lose the mist of a personal dream, as an adult, she is not able to win you over with her defiled state. It also makes for defiled viewing with scarcely a glimmer of hope. Much like "Chandni Bar" but without its skill, its trenchant approach.
"Market" with its soft realism may have its rough and tumble but this is not supposed to be a walk in the park. It is a trip to the street of sin. And as slimy. Undertake the walk if you have the stomach. Or the heart.
PARWANA
(At Odeon and
other Delhi theatres)
RECALL THAT stale dish you found so unappetising even after your mother had garnished it afresh? Well, if you don't, director Deepak Bahry, who has more flops to his credit than you and I count on our fingers, makes sure you do with a film that is as stale as they come. And unwittingly takes us back in time. Back to the 1980s when they often used to can scenes and put them together. Shoot a comedy sequence, an action scene, an emotional one. Add a couple of songs, give it a name. And lo! a new film was ready! This is no different with the director having done a neat job of assembling together frames from films of the past. And present. For all the `effort', "Parwana" is as removed from glow and grandeur as night from noon.
The film starts as the nth patriotic saga with the usual terrorists from across the border pledging to free Kashmir. But soon enough it devolves into the antics of a good-for-nothing tramp. And before you and I have time to appreciate Ajay Devgan's half-hearted attempts at buffoonery, it is time for the tramp to turn a terrorist. Just when you and I think that the director is finally finding his bearings, he springs a surprise. Our man is just framed in whole episode; he is actually as Indian as anyone who unfurls the Tricolour. Soon enough, the film devolves into a one-man army fight with the enemy. We know the result long before Bahry's film hurtles to its conclusion.
About the only ally of Bahry are some dialogues and some particularly crass poetry which goes down well with the frontbenchers. He is not helped by a consistently wooden Devgan, a far cry from the National Award winner. By the way, what is wrong with Amisha Patel? What is she doing in a sing-and-scoot role? She is no more than fleeting enticement here. Resist her charms; she will purvey them better in future.
"Parwana" is an odd mothball, an unappetising fare that makes yesterday's cake look sumptuous.
ZIYA US SALAM
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