‘Vriksha ho bhale khade, ho ghane ho bade, ek patr chaaon bhi, maang mat maang mat maang mat… agneepath agneepath agneepath…
Tu na thakega kabhi, tu na thamega kabhi, tu na mudega kabhi, kar shapath kar shapath kar shapath… agneepath agneepath agneepath…
There are no we-want-to-match-up-to-Hollywood kind wannabe-isms
here. Thank God for that! We, the audience, have enough guilt on our stained consciences
for indulging in one too many of that kind, each falling well short of our
towering expectations. The change, in the form of Agneepath, is most welcome. It’s
raw, earthy, and Indian to the core. The director, Karan Malhotra (first timer),
knows exactly what he wants and lauds should deservingly be given to him, and the
other Karan, the Johar, for allowing the former to make his own path filled
with agnee. And fiery the way would have been for sure, for trying to pick up a
cult (Agneepath of 1990) and making a remake out of it. It’s always been a
dirty and dangerous business; none of the previous ones has ever worked. Fizzled
out, all of them! This one explodes, with more than enough fire to keep your
filmy-fanaticism warm and cozy for three straight hours.
And the fuel to keep it going till the end is all in it. Hrithik
Roshan, as Vijay Dinanath Chauhan, propelled by a sole desire to avenge his
father’s death, is a human dynamo. There’s nothing Amitabh Bachchan-ish about
him. Again, thank God! Utilizing, rather than mocking the cult, his own skills
as an actor (a great one at that), Hrithik makes this Vijay his own. Watch his
eyes set fire to the screen every time a surge of underlying angst and the urge
to lay revenge on his enemy flows within his veins. And the enemy, Kancha
Cheena - the bald headed and tattooed beast of a lord of Mandwa (a mythical
island off the coast of Mumbai), is played astonishingly to pitch perfect
menace by Sanjay Dutt. A Ravan to Lanka; Hitler to a Nazi Concentration Camp! As
Kancha, he’s a perfect Yang to Hrithik’s Ying. If his introduction (met by loud
cheers and whistles even at an urban multiplex) and a scene where he devilishly
rings a school bell close to his face don’t make your skin crawl then you sir,
need to see a good dermatologist.
Equally convincing baddie, if not better, is played by Rishi
Kapoor. Shunning away his chocolate boy image, kept intact for four decades, he
transforms effortlessly into Rauf Lala: the human and drug trafficking lord of
Mumbai. Missing from the original, the character of Rauf Lala makes the
proceedings even more interesting with his raw negative energy and perfect
dialogue delivery. If ever there were an award for the Best Supporting Villain,
it would have, hands down, belonged to Rishi Kapoor. Priyanka Chopra as Kaali,
Vijay’s childhood friend, is a treat. Although she does slow down the proceedings
and delays the inevitable. One would even question she is only there to realize
Johar’s mushy mushy wishes of forcing the womankind among the audience to shed
a tear or two. À la all of his directorial ventures! Still, forgivable! Wrapping
up, Om Puri, in his little role as the upright police officer Gaitonde, is convincing, and so is everybody else.
4 out of 5 Stars.
