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Feb. 3rd, 2013 10:07 pm
The Bad News Bhaiyas
I was surprised to see Lagaan show up in the mail last week because NetFlix had told us we'd have a "very long wait". Unpleasantly so, in fact, since I'd rather counted on it being skipped so I could watch the next item in the queue and send it back before the weekend. But no matter--I read in bed instead and we popped the DVD in this afternoon as planned.
It's nice after a series of middling reviews to be able to give something an enthusiastic thums up. Lagaan is pretty much everything you want from a Bollywood movie with the exception Aiswarya Rai in a wet sari. Plus evil Brits, cricket porn, and lots of hairy chest action for those of us who are into that. About the only thing I didn't like was the casting of Aamir Khan--who's never been my fave and is clearly too old for the part--as the leading man. But without him, the film would never have been made (he also executive-produced), so I can overlook that.
Particularly when he's flanked by such a hunky supporting cast, including his brother-in-law Raj Zutshi as the token Muslim on the team. [There's also a token Sikh (Pradeep Rawat, not playing a heavy for once) and a token Dalit (Aditya Lakhia), as well as a deaf-mute (Amin Hajee) and a wild-haired sadhu (Rajesh Vivek) for the proper INC avant le lettre vibe.] I went back and forth over who I found hotter: him, Akhilendra Mishra as a Rajput-moustachioed blacksmith, Yashpal Sharma as a darkly handsome jealous turncoat, or Pramatesh Mehta as a village salt-and-peppered elder. As you can see, an embarrassment of riches. Kulbhushan Kharbanda is even along as the local Maharaja, looking pretty much the spit of Sa'eed Jaffrey in The Jewel in the Crown.
On a per-hour-of-viewing basis, this may be the fewest song-and-dance numbers of any Bollywood film we've seen. They're all appropriately grandiose, but well-integrated enough that the plot machinery doesn't creak to a halt every time the music starts. It also has the largest Anglo cast of any Indian film I think I've seen, mostly semi-unknowns from British television but all up to the demands of their villainous characters, particularly Paul Blackthorne's moustache-twirling as the film's Snidely Whiplash.
Not that you really need to know, given the formulaic nature of the plot, but the film doesn't provide much of an introduction to cricket for the uninitiated. During one of the breaks for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu to put dinner together, I ran up to read the rules, and once I was able to translate them into baseball terms ("Alright, so there's no strike zone and two bases, one of which doubles as the pitching mound") they seemed to fall into place--until the climactic finale, which hinges on determining which of the batsman is the striker for the final delivery. It's way easier to accomplish the predictable victory in a way your audience won't see coming if, as far as they're concerned, you're making up the rules of the game on the fly.
[Speaking of which: Any chance someone knows whether Captain Russell's last-ditch tactical manœuvre--where he kicks a ball out of bounds in order to ensure the batsman end up where he wants them--is illegal according to the rules of play either now or at the time the match is set (1893)? I was immediately reminded of the infield fly rule, which was first adopted in 1895. We were also surprised that the beamers weren't more heavily penalised, given that they seem much harder to pass off as wild pitches than beanballs.]
So, yeah, if you've got four hours to spare some afternoon or evening for a crowd-pleaser with Hindi-language dialogue and bhangra-esque drumming, definitely check this out.
It's nice after a series of middling reviews to be able to give something an enthusiastic thums up. Lagaan is pretty much everything you want from a Bollywood movie with the exception Aiswarya Rai in a wet sari. Plus evil Brits, cricket porn, and lots of hairy chest action for those of us who are into that. About the only thing I didn't like was the casting of Aamir Khan--who's never been my fave and is clearly too old for the part--as the leading man. But without him, the film would never have been made (he also executive-produced), so I can overlook that.
Particularly when he's flanked by such a hunky supporting cast, including his brother-in-law Raj Zutshi as the token Muslim on the team. [There's also a token Sikh (Pradeep Rawat, not playing a heavy for once) and a token Dalit (Aditya Lakhia), as well as a deaf-mute (Amin Hajee) and a wild-haired sadhu (Rajesh Vivek) for the proper INC avant le lettre vibe.] I went back and forth over who I found hotter: him, Akhilendra Mishra as a Rajput-moustachioed blacksmith, Yashpal Sharma as a darkly handsome jealous turncoat, or Pramatesh Mehta as a village salt-and-peppered elder. As you can see, an embarrassment of riches. Kulbhushan Kharbanda is even along as the local Maharaja, looking pretty much the spit of Sa'eed Jaffrey in The Jewel in the Crown.
On a per-hour-of-viewing basis, this may be the fewest song-and-dance numbers of any Bollywood film we've seen. They're all appropriately grandiose, but well-integrated enough that the plot machinery doesn't creak to a halt every time the music starts. It also has the largest Anglo cast of any Indian film I think I've seen, mostly semi-unknowns from British television but all up to the demands of their villainous characters, particularly Paul Blackthorne's moustache-twirling as the film's Snidely Whiplash.
Not that you really need to know, given the formulaic nature of the plot, but the film doesn't provide much of an introduction to cricket for the uninitiated. During one of the breaks for
monshu to put dinner together, I ran up to read the rules, and once I was able to translate them into baseball terms ("Alright, so there's no strike zone and two bases, one of which doubles as the pitching mound") they seemed to fall into place--until the climactic finale, which hinges on determining which of the batsman is the striker for the final delivery. It's way easier to accomplish the predictable victory in a way your audience won't see coming if, as far as they're concerned, you're making up the rules of the game on the fly.[Speaking of which: Any chance someone knows whether Captain Russell's last-ditch tactical manœuvre--where he kicks a ball out of bounds in order to ensure the batsman end up where he wants them--is illegal according to the rules of play either now or at the time the match is set (1893)? I was immediately reminded of the infield fly rule, which was first adopted in 1895. We were also surprised that the beamers weren't more heavily penalised, given that they seem much harder to pass off as wild pitches than beanballs.]
So, yeah, if you've got four hours to spare some afternoon or evening for a crowd-pleaser with Hindi-language dialogue and bhangra-esque drumming, definitely check this out.