Kyun Ki
Film Review
You would have known ‘impulse buying’; we all indulge in it at some stage or the other. But have you heard of ‘impulse movie watching’? If no, then I take credit for creating this new marketing mantra. (Err, hope you do not think me to be mentally as imbalanced as the film’s hero).
I had gone for a meeting; it was near Jai Cinema. On impulse, I walked into the theater to watch Kyunki. Ever since its release, I wanted to view it. At home every one vetoed the idea. No one wanted to see a depressing film during Diwali. (I guess that has been the film’s biggest folly. People flocked to see the utterly soporific Shaadi No One, but avoided this one). And by now it is too late to salvage its fate. The hall was fifty percent empty when I saw the movie today.
Kyunki disturbed me - especially it’s ending. It came as a shocker. If I am prepared for tragic ends, I can enjoy the film in entirety better (as was the case with Tere Naam). In this one I was not, so I was left groping with the sheer magnitude of emotional disintegration in the film’s denouement. Worse, the director kept the flow cleverly hidden; it seemed to be moving towards a happy end, when it suddenly sverved its path.
Another point - a tragic finale like QSQT has a sense of finality. There is no more life there. Hence the story ends, and it is easy to swallow. But in both Tere Naam and Kyunki, life does not end. There is a trailing residue, which makes you think about the remaining character(s). It rankles and this leaves me dismally distressed.
My main reason for watching Kyunki was - hold your breath -Salman Khan. I like him quite a lot - there I have said it, phew! Now lynch me if you want to, but I stand by my view. Single-handedly Salman has built a distinct genre away from Chopra-Johar’s fluff or RGV-Sanjay Gupta grittiness or sex-flicks (three major distinctions these days). He has not worked with any major directors (even Priyadarshan is not really up there like a Yash Chopra in Bollywood power schemes); neither do they have top-notch commercial music directors (Well, Himesh came up due to his films). His are purely ‘Salman Khan’ films - and barring an odd Dil Ne Jise Apna Kaha (which should have ended with Priety’s death) or Garv here and there, they have been largely good; perhaps not great cinema, but certainly enjoyable and worth money spent watching them.
And then I like Priyadarshan - I had even enjoyed his DoliSajake Rakhna, apart from his regular acclaimed works like Virasat and Hungama. So, I had an inclination that Priyadarshan-Salman Khan combination cannot go very wrong. And I was correct.
Another vital point in enjoying a film is the ‘viewing’ itself, and there I will give myself credit. Generally, a complete submission to the director’s lead is necessary. The film can make you think, or stir emotions or both with its visuals, but one should not ‘think’ in terms of what will happen next and try to outsmart the director. In that sense, Bollywood has a perfect viewer (and if imitation is the best form of flattery, then an imitator as well - wait till you read my next story 
)
Now coming to the movie per se - it definitely has flaws and loopholes (especially, medical fraternity might be concerned about the ‘treatments’ depicted, plus lots of artificiality strewn in). But its positive moments are more replesendent than the blackness of the horrible ones. A large bulk is devoted to mental asylum scenes, especially in the first half. They are entertaining, and largely light-hearted. One which I liked is that Salman sees Om Puri for the first time, he imagines him in a ‘rock-star’ get up. This makes way for a logical ‘disco’ style imagined song a few minutes later. Others like his ‘medicine swallow act’ and other outsmart the doctors evoke natural smile.
There are some subtle delianations in the bunch of mentally challenged characters, not stated but clearly visible - the ‘god-fearing’ pundit and his remark ‘yahan bhagwaan kahan hai‘ is one; the ‘affluent gang’ syndrome and pompousness and self importance associated with it is another. Of course, the package has some corny ones as well - naming them as Abdul, Michael and Pundit was a lame attempt at depicting secularism; and one joke as old as the hills needed to be chopped off at the writing stage itself!
Some motifs, like the patient no ‘36′ echo through out the film. I also liked the way Dr Tanvi first ’sees’ Anand (not eating his medicine, and then doing tomfoolery at the exercise pad); it came out very naturally, without any shenanigans.
The script is interesting. A casually thrown in point, reverberates at some other point, making you re-think on that aspect again. The ‘vegetable’ comatose patient is the best example I can offer, as also the ‘fly’ motif. Also, the entire flashback portion with Rimii Sen is cleverly done -especially her playful fibs, which also leads to her death (a take off on the childhood story about the shepherd who cried ‘wolf’ more than necessarily; when the wolf actually arrives, no one takes him seriously).
In character delianation also Priyadarshan uses subtlety. Dr Tanvi’s emotional vulnerability looks odd, but gets justified due to the climax. Even Dr Khurana’s strictness is assigned an emotionally valid reason, also making you think whether it was sort of irony to have him run a mental asylum! Every character introduced (down to the security guard) is used somewhere, and not dropped off or forgotten mid-way - which reminds me to point out that the ‘confrontation-between-Dr Khurana-and-security-guard’ piece was the most pathetic scene in the entire film. Was Priyadarshan off that day?
I feel the film required more tautness. It should have been a pithy two hour fare, retaining the top ten tender/smiling moments of first half, and the best tragic/dramatic content of the second. This I sensed from the fact that by the time flashback ended, I was waiting for the interval to come up. A viewer should not wait for that, which is why I say that more editing was required.
The film is a remake of a Malyalam film, if I am not terribly wrong. But it has light shades of the old Khamoshi (especially Dr Tanvi’s emotional attachment to patients’ portion - but that’s about it I guess because here she falls completely in love with Anand, which some found jerky, but it’s ok and quite expected- again, my point they could have reduced first half to make for this part longer). How much of One Flew Over Cuckoo’s Nest is present, I cannot say as I haven’t seen that classic.
Of performances, it is Salman’s show all the way. And he delivers. His ‘mad’ act is innocent, tender, child-like and endearing. His normal self is charming. In the ‘demand-for-music-in-the-ward’ scene (otherwise, quite a loud and a stretched one), he does some heavy-duty speed-faster-than-train dialogue delivery. Barring a fleeting shot, he retains his clothes (which makes his third film in a row this way - time to change clichés, I guess!).
What has Jackie Shroff done to his self? He looked very old and haggard, and the beard-get up did not help either. But he has given a straight-from-the-heart performance: no great shakes, but more than adequate! Rimii looks lovely and fits the part, though her Bengali accent showed up quite badly.
Now, here’s about my pet peeve: Kareena. Priyadarshan is a smart person. In both films (Hulchul and Kyunki), he has given her parts that are largely ‘reactive’ - hence she does not have to work too hard, and is ok. There was one scene where she could have risen from average to great (when she learns about Salman’s impending departure from the asylum) - unfortunately, on the day of the shoot she brought the entire pigsty with her, and offers viewers the biggest chunk of ham ever! Otherwise, looks-wise she looks ravishing, and sarees really suit her, and so does ‘anger’!
For a film that is emotional in content, the sound design was fantabulous. I really noticed sounds, music, echoes and thumps in their full stereophonic splendor. Generally with this theme, it’s quite flat.
The colors are bright. Cinematography is first-class. Locales are eye-candy and soothing - both in India and abroad.
Himesh Reshammaiya’s music - as Subhash K Jha put it in Filmfare - is ‘positively familiar’; and I will highlight the word ‘positively’. I don’t care much for his modern sounds or beats (as in Aashiq Banaya Aapne), but his traditional stuff is really hummable. He is doing what even Nadeem Shravan have forgotten to do - nice simple tunes with good simple orchestra. Though Kyunki’s music is below Tere Naam overall, yet it stands tall amongst today’s ‘techno-heave-ho’ stuff!
To a sum up, it might not be the best movie this year, but in my honest opinion it did not deserve to be discarded so thoughtlessly as it has been!
Overall: Watchable
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