Hawaizaada claims to be the story of Shivkar
Talpade, a Maharasthrian scientist in the 1890’s who supposedly built the
world’s first unmanned aircraft, almost a decade before the Wright
brothers.
Hawaizaada should have been called ‘Hawe
me zyada’, because it takes a ton of creative liberties to dole out a
completely fictional story using a real person. That is still permissible,
because most historical movies seldom follow facts. What isn’t acceptable is
that Hawaizaada is the most excruciatingly
boring movie in recent times.
Directed
by Vibhu Puri and starring Ayushman Khurana as Talpade, Hawaizaada is well intentioned for sure – it’s just a simple crowd
pleasing love story set to the backdrop of a historical invention. Boy meets
girl, girl loves and leaves guy, guy invents the airplane – no foreseeable
harm, except for one thing: the treatment. Sample these:
A
clerk with the intention to help build the plane musters up all his dramatic
range and bellows ‘Ye Britishers hamare pair baandh ke rakhenge, humein rokenge
nahi udne se’.
Khurana’s
Talpade madly bellows ‘Mi khooni ahe’ (I’m a killer) over and over again in a
bout of guilt.
A
plane, that looks like a prop from early 90’s Indian TV takes off to the
roaring (and by that I mean eardrum shatteringly loud) rendition of Vande
Mataram as onlookers wipe tears in awe.
The
plane itself is constructed on a gigantic ship on a Mumbai shoreline. And there
are British officers yelling ‘Bloody Indians’ every few minutes.
Hawaizaada is so over the top and
operatic it makes Sanjay Leela Bhansali seem like Kiarostami. Everyone,
literally everyone, overacts. Khurana, generally a likable actor, flails his
arms, wildly mouthing hammy dialogue that is too serious for his own good. He
also makes strange comical faces for the ‘lighthearted’ scenes. Pallavi Sharda
does a cartoonish rendition of Meena Kumari, spectacularly stumbling at every
attempt of a serious dialogue. Mithun Chakraborty wears a wig that is only less
hilariously terrible than his mugging performance as a ‘quirky’ scientist. The
cop in the film speaks in a weird anglo Indian accent. The rest talk and behave
in an exaggerated manner, as if they’re in a bad children’s film. Even the
horses in the film make extra grunts.
And
yet, despite having a tone so loud and overwrought the film doesn’t move a
single muscle in your body. No matter how hard director Puri tries to make the
film scream at you, he somehow only manages to bore you to near death.
Apart
from the tonal and performance issues, the film also suffers from one other
tiny little problem – it doesn’t make any freaking sense.
a) The
protagonist’s mentor builds a plane on a ship instead of on the ground. No
explanation why. Then when the plane is fully built on the ship, it
automatically finds itself on the ground, far away from the ship to be tested
for takeoff.
b) Khurana’s
Talpade is supposed to be an adult sized manly man who’s flunked so many times
he’s still in 6th standard. Yet he somehow gains the smarts in a matter
of a month to build the world’s first airplane.
c) Then
when the plane is finally being built over a period of two years, the kid (Naman
Jain) who helps out Talpade stays the same height and build.
d) Plus
we get a Muslim extremist/freedom fighter saluting Talpade with a Vande
Mataram.
e) Talpade’s
mentor (played by Chakraborty) designs a Batsuit. No really – the suit that
Batman wears in The Dark Knight. In 1895. And we see Khurana flying around the
ocean wearing the Batsuit in eye-rollingly tacky CGI.
f) Not
to mention the blatant attempts at emotional manipulation, and the asinine
attempts of legitimizing Hindu mythology with a fictional story, in megadicebel
loud jingoistic tones, complete with patriotic songs as BGM. This is a fictionalized
story of a man who attempted to make the first plane, why is it shoving
nationalist pride down our throats? How can you feel proud as Indians, if the
film in question is centered on a fictional Indian man? Are we supposed to
believe that a Marathi mulga flew around in a Batsuit in Mumbai and no one
filed for patent? Doesn’t matter, the filmmakers say, just drop your
intelligence, pick up your tutaris and wave the national flag around.
The
cherry on top, however, is the fact that despite the painful two and a half
hours runtime of a film about the world’s first plane, we’re never shown the
plane actually being built. It’s bad enough that everyone in the film is either
singing or dancing or romancing or hamming instead of making the damned plane,
but it’s infuriating that they don’t even show the plane being made. One moment
Khurana is sharpening his pencil passionately, or taking a gander at his ruler,
the next moment hey presto – the plane is ready. This happens over and over
again – no mention of how the plane
was built, because clearly the filmmakers didn’t know either. And that’s only
because 99% of the story is fictionalized.
The awkward tone of the movie makes you wonder whom it was made for. There’s too much romance, too little adventure for children, and it’s too foolish for adults. Puri attempts to make the film with a sense of wonder - childlike, regrettably he manages to render a film that is childish.
The awkward tone of the movie makes you wonder whom it was made for. There’s too much romance, too little adventure for children, and it’s too foolish for adults. Puri attempts to make the film with a sense of wonder - childlike, regrettably he manages to render a film that is childish.
(First published in Firstpost)
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