It is only in the second half of the film, when Kajol finally returns to the screenplay, FANAA comes back to life and the cinegoers realise that this was a perfect comeback. As a film, FANAA shows off Kajol’s histrionic ability to ride the spectrum of her own acting arc. From a spontaneous natural performance that has matured with the graph of this film and with her career so far.
Cupid is truly blind. Before Kajol can see Aamir Khan’s true self, after Aamir arranges for her eye surgery to restore her vision, he is killed in a devastating bomb blast in the capital. And director Kunal Kohli wraps FANAA’s first half and the Aamir-Kajol sojourn until a few reels into the interval, Kajol reappears on the silver screen. Impromptu, the film becomes quasi-realistic and pseudo-serious with Aamir resurfacing as a dreaded terrorist. Should we call him a brainwash victim akin to Manisha Koirala in Mani Ratnam’s Dil Se, a stooge of his grandfather’s extremist ideology and obsessive ambition to free Kashmir. Suddenly the ethos changes from amorous love lingo. FANAA becomes an encryption. The movie ciphers into coded messages, nuclear missiles, triggers, conspiracy theory, CBI, FBI, R&AW intelligence, cross-border terrorism, threat to democracy jargon et al spewed by senior bureaucrats and police-armed forces nexus trying to bust organised terror.
The blind Kashmiri girl Kajol falling for charming tourist guide Aamir on a trip to Delhi with her dance troupe is excellent screen chemistry between the lead pair. But despite amazing Aamir’s presence and acting skills, you crave respite from the stagnating second half. Perhaps the soft advances were better to the unknown Aamir cropping up and lifting the veil.