Movie Review : Shanghai

Rating : 4/5
Genre : Drama
Year : 2012
Running time : 1 hours 55 minutes
Director : Dibakar Banerjee
Cast : Abhay Deol, Emraan Hashmi, Kalki Koechlin, Farook Shaikh, Supriya Pathak Kapur, Pitobash Tripathi
Kid rating : PG-13

Dibakar Banerjee’s fourth film, inspired by Vassilis Vassilikos’ ‘Z’, is is a dark political thriller, a departure from the genres of his previous three films; Khosla ka Ghosla (2006) was a classy humor-filled drama, Oye Lucky Oye (2008) was an arty, biographical look at the career of a small-time crook, and “Love, Sex aur Dhoka” (2010) was voyeuristically snippy. Of the three KKG achieved commercial acclaim, while OLLO was relegated to the art house label, and LSD didn’t do too well. I expect Shanghai to do well in the metros – because while it is a good film, it has little overtly commercial appeal; it is slow-moving in the first half and the narrative is carried forward mostly by subtle dialogue.

Bharat Nagar is a populous, lower middle class locality in Madam’s state. Madamji (Supriya Pathak), the rotund Chief Minister is bent upon bringing in IBP to build a grand scale commercial complex in the Bharatnagar area. T. A. Krishnan (Abhay Deol), the chief executive of IBP (India Bane Pardes/India Business Park), is Madam’s trusted man, working closely with Madam’s strategic aide Mr. Kaul (Farooque Shaikh). When activist and IBP opposer, Dr. Ahmedi (Prosenjit Chatterjee) is run down and killed by a supposedly drunk driver, bowing to public/media outrage, the government sets up an enquiry and recruits Krishnan to head it. Krishnan diligently pursues all leads, and aided by Ahmadi supporter Shalini Sahay (Kalki Koechlin) and videographer Joginder Parmar (Emraan Hashmi), finds that there is more to this case than his superiors are willing to admit . . .

The devil is in the details they say, but with this film, Banerjee seems to have the devil well in hand. The film brims with fine-etched details. There is the Tamilian Krishnan, sedate and brainy, speaking his monotonous bureaucratic Hindi, the ubiquitous towel on the back of his chair. He is in one scene freshly bathed, in lungi and sacred thread, performing his Puja in front of his laptop, a godly image flickering on the screen and a bhajan blaring out of it’s speakers. There is seedy videographer Joginder, enamored with the foreign-looking Shalini, saving her number on his cellphone as “dreemgirl”. There are also nice touches, humorous, almost in passing – the khaki clad sweeper splish-splashily mopping the corridor, every passer-by a victim to the too-wet floors.

The three main characters in this film are not your everyday heroes. Krishnan is doing well at his job, set for a fruitful career under Madam’s tutelage; rebellion then, is hard work indeed. Abhay Deol underplays this subtle character beautifully, although his South-Indian accent didn’t always sound authentic. A great scene is one in which the Chief Minister asks for his opinion and he must give it in measured terms – watch for it; as the camera narrows onto Krishnan’s face and he contorts this way and that trying to form a wise answer to Madam’s rhetorical question, it becomes clear why Abhay Deol is the reputed actor that he is.

Shalini, with her white skin and her Indian upbringing, the whiff of scandal never very far, has trouble fitting in, but she must do what she has to. Kalki, in this role, looks a little like a deer caught in the headlights. She does well though bringing in vulnerable frailty – those narrow shoulders, the easily tearing-up eyes – and a resolute firmness to Shalini’s character. And Joginder? Poor Jogi, learning the tricks to the videography trade is caught squarely between right and wrong. Emraan Hashmi is quite impressive here in his finest performance to date, oozing equal parts sleaze and haplessness. Farooque Sheikh plays Kaul, a small but important role, and is spectacular as the suave opportunist. Pitobash Tripathy is in a role very similar to his in “Shor in the City” – a small-time, rabble-rousing goon, and he is just as good here.

Post-interval the film picks up steam, with chases through curfew-clad areas. Banerjee directs well, as expected, and the film is engrossing. The music is quite catchy – “Imported Kamariya” is the lone item number, and “Bhartmata ki jai” is ironic and farcical; note the lyrics : “Sone ki chidhiya, Dengue, malaria, gur bhi hai gobar bhi – Bharatmata ki jai“. Then there are Dua and Khudaya, both slow ballads, although I can’t recall Khudaya in the actual film.

The truly great films portray truths, and they portray them in a way that hits close to home. While the characters in this film are a tad removed from touching a raw nerve, this is still a thought-provoking, tongue-in-cheek depiction of the Great Indian Political Farce. It is a dog-eat-dog world in Bharatnagar. In governmental corridors, the ever-present babudom and the power of the public “servant”, ensures deep-rooted corruption.

This is a great film. Go see it.

Kidwise : Has a long drawn-out kiss, an item number, some pelvic-thrusting dances and allusions to pornography, although nothing is portrayed on screen. Clean otherwise, but probably unsuitable for younger kids with the adult theme and talk.