Parineeta (The Married Woman) was riding on some great expectations, Chopras last was Munnabhai and Saifs was Hum Tum, but once again the weight of expectations has marred the joy of watching a period-drama, this one set in the Calcutta of the 60s. Debutante Director, Pradeep Sarkar, had chosen Sarat Chandras mercurial novel of the same name to convert it into a cinematic saga of love, lost and found, but somehow, it turns out to be a story told a million times in a million different ways.
Lolita, an orphaned child living with her on-the-brink-of-bankruptcy Uncle-and-aunt shares an un-named bond with Shekhar , the son of a rich and wily businessman in the neighborhood. They never express their love for each other but its always there, in their common passion for music and daily bickerings. Enters Girish, a rich steel-magnate from London (seems Sarat Chandra foresaw the fate of Lakshmi Narayan Mittal, also a Calcuttan making it big in London!) who falls for Lolita and Shekhar takes Lolitas courtesies towards Girish as unfaithfulness. Shekhars fathers evil ways put Lolitas uncle into great financial trouble and Girish comes in the way, helping him with the money and taking Lolita and family to London. Its assumed, with good reason, that Lolita has married Girish and Shekhar also agrees to marry a rich girl. But Girish appears on his wedding night revealing......
As in Devdas, Sarat Chandras characters are complex and brooding and thats where Pradeep Sarkars baton fails. Though first-timer Vidya Balan as Lolita and Saif Ali Khan as Shekhar come out with commendable performances, the quickly changing moods and prejudices of the characters come out as weakness instead of complexity. Sanjay Dutt as Girish had little to do other than playing cards and wearing Begali attire. And the blame is to be shared by as much the dialogue writer as by the screenplay developer. The dialogues are so banal (remember the weight dialogues brought in Devdas and yes, the comparisons are inevitable!) that one tapori sitting behind me was virtually ranting off the next 2 dialogues after listening one.
What lifts the movie, though, is its great music (Shanatanu Moitra) and excellent art direction (Pradeep Sarkar, himself) which give a perfect feel of the Calcutta of the 60s, with its Moulin Rouge style night-clubs and the remains of British-Aristocracy clinging on to whatever was left to cherish. The least publicised, Raat Humari Toh, Chaad ki saheli hai is a masterpiece of sorts and is picturised brilliantly too.
But still, what could have been a canvas full of joy, pain, jealousy and outrage is unfortunately left writhing soemewhere between the strokes of white and black. Sarkar has got the style, maybe not as magnanimous as SLB, but he still needs to find a story he could tell better. Vidya Balan has a future and wish she makes the best out of it.
P.S. Check out the trailor of Munnabhai meets Mahatma in the theatres before the movie starts. Really funny!