Languishing Languor

The impoverished, hapless young man stranded incorrigibly amid a terribly demoralizing Mexican desert ran his palm through bland sand, the only thing in his clasp besides his apparent doom. Stoic lips transcended magnificently in a dismayed wail, the man stumbled upon his knees leaving behind him an automatically scrupulous, poignant portrait of decisive anguish and defeat.

Kites is one of the most thought-provoking products I’ve seen roll out from the industry of big, fat weddings and pompous songs-and-dances. The ride kicks off in an estranged Mexican desert, where our Homeric protagonist (he’s called J, how convenient, just ‘J’!) rolls out insensible of a goods train all haggered beyond reputation. Director Anurag Basu pauses, zooms in, familiarizes us with his terrible, savagery plight, and slips back tantalizingly to a lavishly lit Vegas casino. All this before we’re acquainted with J’s occupation of feigning marriages for a living. No kidding, our Casanova embarks listlessly on a cascade of spurious nuptial oaths, all for the want of a passport to his deeply involved customers, before he actually manages to naturally swoon down the daughter of the town’s Vito Corleone, whom he disdainfully dismisses upon abject ignorance of the wealth that dogged behind the footsteps of her infatuation. Over course of time, of course, the bonding is inevitable when the catalyst is materialistic pleasure. So we have our aimlessly meandering protagonist now a flamboyant Son-In-Law zooming away in aristocratic sedans and sipping up the most scrumptious wine in town. No, our man isn’t a content soul. Father-In-Law’s debonairly diabolical son (Tony) brings his fiancée along, whom our Bollywood hero J spots upon first sight as a former customer of his paper-polygamy. “Someone who actually made something happen in him”, we’re enlightened. So what’re we waiting for? After a sickeningly contrived rendezvous in the villa’s swimming pool and some seductive gazes, they’re a self-proclaimed couple now on the run, finding their due place in the American Media for judiciously robbing banks and evading the police implausibly in air balloons while a morbid Tony is all over the police and blasting up any witness for inability to provide the whereabouts he so desperately cannot do without. Our leads, meanwhile, find the luxury to cozily check into motels for comfortable retreat, barely mindful of the tremendous demon that longs to accost them…

The thing with Kites is, it yearns to exhibit itself as an epic love tale stained irreverently by blood and dishonor. It does not do what is essential to pull off a flick with such aspirations. Mediocre at best, the holistic assessment of this flick is one of disappointment. It would’ve been fair to expect from a director-writer of Anurag Basu’s prowess a flick worth wolf-whistling and raving about. This is not such a film. This flick is rather eerily Kaho Naa Pyaar Hai revisited. Too many similarities in storyline to dismiss as mere coincidence. However, Anurag Basu’s treatment of the unnervingly commonplace script is refreshingly experimentative (much unlike Rakesh Roshan’s. Much) Basu employs a non-linear narrative style to weave his tale across the 130 minutes; he seamlessly coasts away back-and-forth in time eruditely, compelling you to stay afloat and alive throughout the ordeal. Same sequences are told, and retold at different times from different perspectives, adding appreciable credibility to a quick-sinking boat. Even trash, when gilded suitably with aesthetically appealing entities, is consumable, tolerable. Anurag Basu manages to spruce up a clichéd, heavily contrived script with his adroit directorial stunts. Credit where it must go. Genuine credit to Mr.Basu. Special mention to the Cinematography team for engendering through sheer style, panache, elan a visually arresting environment. Be it in the suave suites of Las Vegas Casinos or forlorn deserts, the cinematography does not overdo and therein lies its greatest merit.

I shall remember very vividly the tenebrously etched snapshots and sequences through the film, all thanks to the sheer creativity of the cinematography and direction, and some very unsettling background music. The songs, though, sound typically Rajesh Roshan-ish, making you wonder if the album was actually a collection of his veteran hits through the decades. With 70% of the current version itself replete with English or Spanish, I doubt this flick will transcend beyond cosmopolitan multiplex crowds. Even if it does, it will for obvious aesthetic delectability.

And a lot of appraise for the obvious aesthetic delectability must be deservedly attributed to our leads, who share an automatically resonating chemistry. Language was never supposed to be an impediment to make love, it never is. Barbara Mori will enjoy this foray into The Grand Land Of Quixotic Cinema where she shall be hogged irresistibly for her mere screen presence. Must say, it is a ‘useful’ debut. Will surely earn her plenty more offers, for roles that are meant to communicate primarily (or atleast entertain audience) by the limited resources of the countenance. Hrithik Roshan makes a serious attempt at acting here. Problem is, he’s too predictable. Almost all through the film, he’s the same Hrithik Roshan you’ve seen in the Hide-And-Seek commercials. Stylish, peppy, elegant is Mr.Roshan, but gotta ask—can he do anything other than this? The trademarked Hrithik Roshan mumbling, grinning, jingling, haven’t we seen all that before in every other film of his? How is J, the character, different then? The Hrithik of the sword-fight in Jodhaa-Akbar is the J in Kites. But Hrithik has an undeniably alluring screen presence, a feeling which ensures naturally you don’t look away when he’s on screen. And mind you, the fake accent is highly arduous. Cannot tolerate it when an Indian face thinks it’s cool to speak it the American way.

Kites is an unobtrusive ostentation of irresistible éclat but is woefully short on solid content. It’s like the Biryani Ohri’s serves. Too much vegetable, too much spice, too much masala, little rice. Watch it if you have nothing else to do this summer.

Whatever language you want to interpret in, this film is a Kati Patang.     

Rating:- **