KAREEB Cast: Bobby deol, Neha, Mousami Chatterjee Direction: Vidhu Vinod Chopra Rating: * * * |
|
Take that lake. Illuminated by thousands of diyas, the mood's perfect-o for a pair of pyaar-struck piyas. Dazzled, the boy tumbles into the placid waters. Unfrazzled, the girl grins, rightaway placing the viewer on needles and pins. Oh oh, there we go again. Vidhu Vinod Chopra's Kareeb purports to be a love story '98. Alas and alack, we can't help wondering, "But Vidhuji where's the story?" A supreme stylist, no doubt, the director seems to be in search of a plot that'll match his flair for visual jazzmatazz. Sorry to say, he doesn't find it. No amount of pretty pictorial sweeps of blue mountains, doll-like houses, a canary yellow dupatta zigzagging through an indigo sky and miles and miles of jade- green vistas, all marvellously photographed by Binod Pradhan, can compensate for the content that's as hollow as a dental cavity. Defying the law of gravity, Kaamna Chandra's story co-scripted by Abhijit Gupta keeps flying off into tangents. After landing precariously on the tarmac of the dowry issue for a few reels, then it's back to sob-bobbing through turbulent weather. Merde! The rich Romeo must now make amends with the Juliet jilted by his cash-craving daddy. Tell us another, please. Hell's bells. No dowry, no wedding din-din. Next: Romeo Birju (Bobby Deol) races after Juliet Neha (ditto) who has zoomed off to admit her grief-stricken mum (Moushumi Chaterjee) in a Shimla hospital. To compound the confusion, the no-nonsense Neha doesn't want to see Birju's face, not unless he cleans up his act. Such tact. Meaning our Birju boy must quit indulging in white lies, poking his finger in too many pies and do something pronto about those crippling family ties. Wow, that's really cutting him down to size. Instantaneously, Birju toils as a dhobi in a laundry owned by a London-loving loony (Johnny Lever), spies on Neha through a pair of binoculars and waits tearfully for a re- onion. Ensues a virtual debate on lottery tickets. Why, why? Because Mum Grief needs quick moolah for the most expensive heart surgery this side of the Himalayas. Simultaneously, there's plenty of ironing and washing of pantaloons, not to forget a morose doctor (help, Abhay Chopra attempting a Dilip Kumar) who initiates a war of the roses, handing over buds to Neha as if they were vitamin pills. Turns out that true love is the best medicine. Money is in the kitty. And at long last, the estranged lovers can sing their lifelong ditty. So what if we're left with a throbbing headache, jangled nerves and general gloom? Doom. Certainly, much more was expected from Chopra. His romantic truffle is neither in the league of the walloping Parinda nor the fairly likeable 1942 A Love Story. Yes, he has technical panache, but unfortunately not the acumen to tell us a story of some sense and substance. Anything goes out here: including the bizarre tack of making a benign retired couple (Shammi Kapoor-Sushma Seth) into awful confidence tricksters. Certainly, Shammi Kapoor didn't deserve this. On the plus side, Anu Malik's music is easy on the ears. But it isn't a patch on RD Burman's score for 1942...In the technical department, Renu Saluja's editing and Nitin Desai's art direction are classy. Evidently, Chopra has slaved hard on his artistes. Newcomer Neha has been well-groomed and establishes a confident screen presence. Bobby Deol discloses some signs of improvement, radiating sufficient sincerity to make us care for him even though he is trapped in absurdly lengthy scenes like that sari salesman act in his father's textile shop. The snag is that in terms of thought and ideas, most of the situations contrived for the lead pair are woefully poor. Gareeb anyone? |
