Wednesday, October 29, 2003

inteha: another "complete" product of the bhatt movie machine {music review}

Intihaa (yep, that would be the correct way!) means the end, the extremity, the utmost point or limit. Recall the song from Sharaabi. To wit, the film does hit the limit of your despair. In the good old days, a credit that read "written by Mahesh Bhatt" held some promise. (Of course, a credit that read "directed by Vikram Bhatt" NEVER held any promise ever!). But since Shri Bhatt resigned (caved in) to the evil tempting and compromising framework of mainstream Bollywood cinema, he began churning out scripts and films that were designed (and even executed) on the backs of toilet paper, or on brief cellphone messages (trivia note: when Bhatt appeared on Movers and Shakers, he added a gentle note of self-critical humour by pretending to be directing a movie over his cellphone -- something that people accused him of doing. Perhaps the irony that the show itself was a cheap ripoff of Jay Leno's show was something only for us to savour!). And his family doesn't seem to hold much promise either. Brother Mukesh Bhatt produces. Brother Robin Bhatt contributes scripts, screenplays and even "additional screenplays" (as seen in Zameen). And nephew Vikram Bhatt directs.

This film has Bhatt exorcising one of his pet "close to my life" themes: Saxena (first name unknown!) has lived a life of bigamy, and sired a daughter in each relationship: the elder Nandini (played AND dubbed by the good-looking Vidya Malvade) and the younger, impulsive Tina (played BUT NOT dubbed by Nauheed Cyrusi). More on Vikram Bhatt's dubbing fetish. Dying of cancer, Saxena asks Nandini to care for Tina. Nandini sacrifices her future with Rohit (Anup Soni, convincing in a brief role), but Tina is unaffected: she detests her elder step-sister and is constantly getting into trouble (TRIVIA note: the guy whose car she damages is called Mr Dhamija, probably as an in-joke reference to dialogue writer Girish Dhamija). And then a stalker comes into Tina's life. While the film has been fair so far, this ludicruous element along with a stupid incongruous song by Sinew Kneegum, sets the trail for the rest of the proceedings: a downward spiral. Ashmit Patel, brother of the vastly undertalented Amisha Patel, makes an interesting choice in his début as "the smooth operator who leaves gaping clues behind at every crime scene", a con operator who marries rich and beautiful lassies for their greens and sends them to kingdom come in car crashes (someone should have smelt a rat a long time ago!) aka the lover from hell. However, given that his looks are the pathetic dirty rugged "I'm so cool" kind, any attempts at menace are quickly superseded. And the voice I liked, turned out not to be his after all (I did smell a rat with squeaky Cyrusi -- see: Supari -- began to speak with an improved voice and diction). The songs continue to pelt us, and cause grave harm to a film that had potential. Bhatt's writing shows small firefly flashes of promises, but also exposes his complete surrender to the mindless Bollywood movie machine. The cinematography and editing are deplorable overall -- the dark scenes look really amateur, and drained of any menace). The only person who could survive this disaster is model debutante Vidya Malavde. Sigh. Disappointment reigns. They almost had it.

Gaffe alert: The investigating inspector refers to Hotel Blue Star as Hotel Blue Diamond (Puneites will enjoy this reference, others, who are either awake or catching a few winks, will probably miss it)

See also: Fear

No comments:

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.