To his credit, Karan Johar’s handpicked namesake Karan Malhotra weaves a winning pair of villains in his directorial embroidery - Sanjay Dutt as Kancha Cheena and Rishi Kapoor as Rauf Lala. The former’s philosophical chants in chaste Hindi and the latter’s sneering, lustful sermons make phenomenal impact. Both more than condone their caricatured getups and mannerisms with their marvellous performances. While Dutt has an enviable screen presence, Kapoor’s revelation is truly astonishing.
The rest of the movie is full of the nonsensical extravaganza that Bollywood has religiously worshipped over the years. Weeping moms, wailing sisters and titillating sweethearts go hand in hand with scarred memories, scalded carnage and feeble revenge. Malhotra’s version has a rather hilarious plot. If you let loose a bit, you’ll enjoy the inanity.
On one hand is Kancha Cheena - Mandvaa’s unrivalled kingpin, who frequently quotes from the epics and swears by his exclusive ‘Bargad Ped’ justice. Unlike our judiciary, it leaves people hanging, never the verdict. On the other is arch rival Rauf Lala, dictator of Mumbai. He auctions young girls in open mohollas and kills defectors in broad daylight.
Ageing cop Gaitonde (Officer’s Choice Om Puri back in office again) is the sole designated saviour blessed with combined charge of Mumbai and Mandwa and an amazingly long tenure He can’t open fire on Kancha as well as Lala because the corrupt home secretary, an open Kancha loyalist, is perpetually mum and motionless.
Between Kancha and Lala is our super hero Vijay (Hrithik Roshan) - rebel with all cause and no pause - who shares his hometown with Kancha and workplace with Lala. For some strange reason, both goons find him indispensible. Needless to say, Vijay makes ridiculously easy inroads into both empires only to settle respective scores in due course. ‘Lathpath’ justice is postponed for long but eventually prevails in line with Vijay’s grand shapath. You are glad when it’s finally over.
Come to think of it, Vijay’s lifework balance is amazing. He breaks into abrupt song sequences, smashes towering dahi handis, kills lethal goons, fools the police and conspires with supreme gang lords...all in the same fascinating breath. Whatever the occasion, his Krish-brand muscle-flaunting run up is unmistakably rhythmic (with some practice, he can develop into a great pacer for India to lend much needed support to our fatigued Zaheer Khan)
Hrithik Roshan underplays his character with quiet authority save for his trademark “involuntary spasms” when it comes to conveying irrepressible anger or raging life missions rooted in revenge. Whether Lakshya, Krish, Jodha Akbar, Kites or Agneepath, it’s the same. At times, one feels he’s going to suffer an epileptic attack. Hrithik baba, do something about your perennial quivering attacks; it comes in the way of your otherwise sincere effort and sensational looks.
Priyanka Chopra as the leading-n-fading lady is predictably irritating. Katrina Kaif’s Chikni Chameli number looks like a finely rehearsed British tribute to Maharashtrian folklore. (A statutory warning against cigarette smoking cautions viewers only during the song’s reference to ‘Bidi Chillam’, does that mean the censor board is fine with Pauwaa drinking whatever it means?) Ajay-Atul’s music is suitably spirited while the cinematography by Kiran Deohuns-Ravi Chandran is first rate.
Not that the Bachchan film was a masterpiece or that late Mukul Anand’s cinematic ideation was completely original but the preceding film had a stronger context, if not connect. Karan’s version of ‘Aai-Mai-Tai’ flavoured bloodshed has neither. Nor does it have the immensely endearing ‘Krishan Iyer MA Nariyal Paani Wala’.