Bachchan Paandey, Review: Gangsters are best played by real-life gangsters

Why would you choose a name like Bachchan Pandey, unless you thought you could cash-in on the franchises called Amitabh Bachchan (name of a real life actor) and Chulbul Pandey (name of a reel-life character, played in several movies by Salman Khan)? Point is, does a superstar himself, like Akshay Kumar, who plays the title role, need these props? Leaving the Paandey behind, ‘Bachchan’ is made to speak some of the iconic dialogue from Amitabh’s film roles, leaving no doubt that the priority is in the first name, not the surname. For the rest of the film, you keep wondering where the priorities are, and whether this film is the result of the efforts of a single director, as is claimed in the credits, or the blame rests on the six writers. It is almost as if the director struck a carrom board and followed the carrom men, along tangential lines, in an effort to pocket the Queen. Sadly, the Queen proves to be elusive and Bachchan Pandey loses 2:3.

Remake of the 2014 Tamil film Jigarthanda, which, in turn, was inspired by the 2006 South Korean flick, A Dirty Carnival, the film is the story of a dreaded contract killer named Bachchan Paandey and an aspiring film-maker, called Myra Devekar. Myra is thrown out by her boss, for taking on his role during a shooting stint. The director almost quits the film in anger, but is persuaded by the producer to continue, after sacking Myra. Myra pleads with the producer to listen to her story and give her a break as an independent director. She has a story ready. Problem is that the story is about a real-life local biggie baddie, and the producer fears that he will be killed if he makes a film on that man’s life.

He likes the idea of a gangster story, though, and suggests that she come up with a gripping and violent gangster story, aiming at the box-office. Myra researches gangsters’ lives with the help of a sociologist, and zeroes in on the one-eyed Jack, Bachchan Paandey, as her subject. Paandey, of Baaghva, a place in Northern India, kills men like mice, often setting them on fire. His gang has already killed dozens of men. Undaunted, Myra heads for Baaghva, where she meets Vishu, a man who had struggled in Mumbai for some time to find work as an actor, but went back disappointed. His father took a promise from him on his death-bed that he would achieve what his father couldn’t. Myra and Vishu join hands. Myra and Vishnu make discreet attempts to research the life of Bachchan Paandey, through three of his main henchmen, but are caught and brought before Paandey. Paandey could have killed them, should have killed them, would have killed them, but then…

Two reference points in the shape of earlier films, an original story credited to Karthik Subbaraj, an adapted story and screenplay by producer Sajid Nadiadwala, five other credits for writing, including dialogue additional dialogue – director Farhad Samji, Tushar Hiranandani, Sparsh Khetarpal, Tasha Bhambra and Zeishan Quadri. A perfect example of too many cooks spoil the broth.

The film moves in many directions. It begins with a film-in-a-film premise that could have been interesting and funnier, if handled with more maturity. Next is the plot of making a tooth-pick (joke, from the film), actually biopic, on a deadly gangster. Following this is the story of the side-kick, a failed actor, who sees a chance of realising his father’s dream, a father who could only make it to the crowd scenes. We also have the real-life story of the killer and his killing sprees, tracked for many a day, and who first doles out the stereo-typical dacoit tale seen once too often in Indian films, but later narrates the truth on camera, which is really touching. Then comes the inspiration from the Budhha and the brigand who was notorious for chopping human fingers and making a garland of them, Angulimaal, of transforming and reforming merciless murderers. And we also have a Gujarati acting coach who is brought down from Gujarat (producer-writer Sajid Nadiadwala’s family is from Gujarat) to teach the gangsters to act, because Vishu feels that only gangsters themselves can best play gangsters.

All these elements would not jar so much had they been seamlessly integrated by director Farhad Samji. What we have instead is a separate track for each element, albeit with a few laughs built-in, especially in the coach’s scenes. Sure, there are more moments of laughter, but half of them are contrived and unfunny. Ditto for the claptrap scenes, only a handful of which resonate. Example of humour: Pointing to camels, Sophie asks Bachchan, “Are these camels?” He replies, “No, they are asses.” Another example: Myra buys something at a shop and pays from her wallet. Quietly, a man comes close to her and almost sticks another pair of jeans behind her own. She tucks the wallet in it, and the man decamps. Some well-written scenes stand-out, like the one where Paandey does not mind being written about in a local paper but gets so cheesed off by his caricature that goes with the article that he roasts the journalist alive, and when an assassin is planted inside to shoot Paandey as soon as he enters a toilet. But there are many troughs for each peak.

Is it that easy to come down from Baaghva to Mumbai, probably for the first time, kidnap a film producer, and take him to Baaghva, without so much as anybody raising a finger, at that time or later? Why get a Gujarati-accented acting coach from Gujarat to train Baaghva-based gangsters in acting, when the dialogue is all going to be in Hindi? How come Vishu is a Maharashtrian who returns to ‘native’ Baaghva (most likely in Uttar Pradesh) after struggling in Mumbai’s filmdom? Can a notorious contract killer like Bachchan afford to forget about the assignment at hand, of killing a journalist at a fair, and chase a fair-skinned damsel instead? And what was he doing in the Pushkar (near Ajmer, in Rajasthan) fair, hundreds of miles away from his area of influence, in the first place?

A gun-toting, and firing, Bachchan, sings and dances at the wedding of a High-Ranking Police Officer, with one his henchmen’s girl-friend, and the two elope. The entire police force, brought in just to prevent such an occurrence, just watches. The officer swears vengeance, but is not able to do anything at all when he almost catches Bachchan red-handed with a corpse of a man he has just killed. How is it possible to commit 68 murders and roam about freely, especially when the police top brass is gunning for you? Why does his adversary only thrust a knife in one of his eyes and leaves it at that, instead of finishing him off? Why would anybody, more so a brigand, douse a person with canisters of petrol, if he had no intention of killing him/her in the first place? There is more, for the film is all of 142 minutes long, but I guess the above will suffice to make a point.

Akshay Kumar is nothing if not enthusiastic, going through even the badly written scenes with some aplomb and belying his 54 years. But it is all been there, done that. There is nothing new, nothing that takes you by surprise or makes you say, “Wow”. Tall and pretty girl Kriti Sanon (Panipat, Pati Patni Aur Woh, Housefull 4) has the onus of executing another badly written role, with a twinkle in her eye and a partly lost look most of the time. She too is out to fulfil her (living) father’s dream, but shows little common sense in dealing with the dreaded honchos or making the kind of film that she ultimately makes. A joke, at the expense of her height (5.75 in., without heels, and slender), has Bachchan watching her short film and then exclaiming, “Such a tall girl and such a short film?” Occasionally reminding you of Sunny Leone, Jacqueline Fernandez as Sophie has a brief role, and tries to make the most of it, but comes across as dumb as Myra. She does ooze oomph and is easy on the eye.

Arshad Warsi is natural as Vishu, with his well-known sense of timing. Pankaj Tripathi as Bhaves Bhoplo is mis-cast for the umpteenth time. One tends to feel that the role was written for Paresh Rawal, and when he was not available, Pankaj was asked to step in. He tries hard, and is given some funny lines, but fails to convince as a character. Prateik Babbar as Virgin has still to work on his diction, and the role is inconsequential. Cameos by Naseer Abdullah as the director and Dolly Thakore as the Sociologist are welcome. What an utter waste of Sanjay Mishra as Bufferia Chacha, one of Bachchan’s three lieutenants, who stammers, and has maybe three scenes. Abhimanyu Singh as Pendulum and Saharsh Kumar Shukla as Kaandi, the other two lieutenants, are quite in character. Ashwin Mushran as Varma Ji, the producer, is reduced to a farcical caricature. Amit Shivdas Nair is passable as Rana, another boss. Trishna Singh plays Indu. Also in the cast are Divyam Agarwal, Shravan Jakkula and Snehal Daabbi, who could not be identified.

Cinematography by Pondicherry-born Gavemic U. Ary captures the earthy tones quite well, and enjoys feasting on the colourful Pushkar fair. But most of the time, his camera has to deal with blood-letting and human beings being set ablaze. Bachchan’s artificial eye is well shot. Editing by CharuShree Roy (Chhichhore) is occasionally indulgent but competent on the whole. Had she been more ruthless with the delete button, maybe the film would have not had so many troughs. On the notations side, Joel Crasto is the score producer, Amaal Mallik the musical director, Vikram Montrose also the musical director, Julius Packiam theme music composer and B. Praak another musical director. Whosoever among these has scored the background music (Packiam, most likely) is a huge admirer of Ennio Morricone and the Sergio Leone spaghetti Western films of the 60s. The lyrics are mostly banal and loud, but then what do you expect from a killer? One number stands out, ‘Heer Ranjhana’, written by Kumaar, composed by Amaal Mallik and sung by Arijit Singh and Shreya Ghoshal.         

Sajid Nadiadwala’s Nadiadwala Grandson Entertainment completes 70 years with his film, and congratulations are in order. But with such a huge budget and a star like Akshay Kumar, Bachchan Paandey is not the film that they should showcase on the occasion. Let’s hope that Heropanti 2, due for release next month, is a more fitting tribute to the production house, set-up by A.K. Nadiadwala, Sajid’s grandfather.

If you can see the funny side in almost anything, and don’t mind deafening decibels, you are likely to enjoy this film, as a comedy. However, if you are the type who feels that being ridiculous or ludicrous is not comedy, and dig subtle humour, you can give this one a miss.

Rating: **

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4d8m59ct2wQ