The real problem with ‘ADHM’ is Karan Johar himself
Pakistanis should be happy for not being subjected to the pain of watching a dull and tedious film
DALLAS:
It was unlikely that any good would come out of the skirmishes between India and Pakistan. But the ban on the exhibition of Indian films has had at least one welcome outcome: Pakistanis will not be subjected to the pain of watching Karan Johar’s dull and tedious new film, Ae Dil Hai Mushkil.
Johar’s universe is inhabited by incredibly rich and exceedingly beautiful people who are ready to dance in perfect unison at the snap of a finger. They are also adept at dealing with manufactured emotional problems using uncomfortably maudlin dialogues. This parallel universe may have had some allure in his earlier works such as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham but it is a complete miss in Ae Dil Hai Mushkil, which has the look of a pin-up calendar, the feel of a perfume commercial and the depth of a tabloid advertisement. This film requires a lot of patience to sit through.
Ae Dil Hai Mushkil tells the story of Ayan (Ranbir Kapoor), a rich young man with an interest in music, a lot of time on his hands, and a big collection of garish sweaters. He meets the energetic, outspoken and equally free Alizeh (Anushka Sharma) at a night club and the two promptly fall in love, albeit in different ways. Alizeh loves Ayan like a friend, whereas his interest is decidedly romantic. The two have a lot of fun together until they chance upon Ali (Fawad Khan), a former lover of Alizeh’s for whom she still harbours romantic feelings.
Drawn to Ali, Alizeh abandons Ayan, who takes refuge in the arms of a highly made-up Urdu poet, Saba (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan). But Saba, ironically, refers to Noor Jehan’s Mujhse Pehli Si Mohabbat as a song and wears oversized false eyelashes twenty-four hours a day. The flimsy love quadrangle is resolved in a third act that is as preposterous as it is long.
Kapoor is the one strength of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. A very resourceful actor, he has an endearing persona and a remarkable ability to communicate adolescent angst, unbridled love and emotional vulnerability. He is a skilled dancer and a consummate actor. The camera and, very obviously, Johar – love him. A number of suggestive shots of Kapoor in the film add little to Ayan’s character but reveal a lot about the director’s proclivities.
Kapoor’s charismatic presence and solid performance, unfortunately, fail to save Ae Dil Hai Mushkil, which starts to come undone a few minutes after the opening sequence. Sharma tries a little too hard to play the gutsy, witty, and energetic Alizeh and makes her character both annoying and irritating. Rai sleepwalks through the film, delivering corny, cheesy poetry on rote, while looking tired, old, and unattractive. The character of Ali is unusually underwritten and Fawad plays it half-heartedly, with equal measures of nonchalance and disinterest. A cameo by a horribly-aged Shahrukh Khan butchering a couplet by Faiz Ahmed Faiz does not help the film, neither do those by Lisa Haydon and Imran Abbas.
The problems of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil are not limited to poor performances and unsuccessful cameos. The story is improbable, imbalanced and contrived. The intellectually vacuous dialogues that pervade the film are hackneyed, banal, and pretentious.
Music composer Pritam Chakraborty and lyricist Amitabh Bhattacharya deliver a lackluster background score and fail to producing even one good song for Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. The duo transforms several well-known poetry pieces into tracks without soul by simplifying rhythm and melodic modes and adding the discordant sounds of guitars, violins and cellos. The cover of Fareeda Khanum’s masterpiece Aaj Jane Ki Zid Na Karo, used to prop a scene up is criminally inadequate. The singer renders the songs without any feeling, skill and emotion.
The real problem with Ae Dil Hai Mushkil ultimately is Johar himself. The superstar director thinks that he has a keen understanding of modern relationships and the ability to bring them to screen but he is wrong. He may think that Ae Dil Hai Mushkil is deep and moving but, in reality, the film is traditional Bollywood with a little extra gloss and sheen to make it look good. And it is shallow, dreary and impotent.
Verdict: The problems of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil are not limited to poor performances and unsuccessful cameos. The story is improbable, imbalanced, and contrived.
Bio: Ally Adnan lives in Dallas, Texas, and writes on culture, history and arts. He tweets @allyadnan and can be reached at allyadnan@outlook.com
Published in The Express Tribune, November 1st , 2016.
It was unlikely that any good would come out of the skirmishes between India and Pakistan. But the ban on the exhibition of Indian films has had at least one welcome outcome: Pakistanis will not be subjected to the pain of watching Karan Johar’s dull and tedious new film, Ae Dil Hai Mushkil.
Johar’s universe is inhabited by incredibly rich and exceedingly beautiful people who are ready to dance in perfect unison at the snap of a finger. They are also adept at dealing with manufactured emotional problems using uncomfortably maudlin dialogues. This parallel universe may have had some allure in his earlier works such as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham but it is a complete miss in Ae Dil Hai Mushkil, which has the look of a pin-up calendar, the feel of a perfume commercial and the depth of a tabloid advertisement. This film requires a lot of patience to sit through.
Ae Dil Hai Mushkil tells the story of Ayan (Ranbir Kapoor), a rich young man with an interest in music, a lot of time on his hands, and a big collection of garish sweaters. He meets the energetic, outspoken and equally free Alizeh (Anushka Sharma) at a night club and the two promptly fall in love, albeit in different ways. Alizeh loves Ayan like a friend, whereas his interest is decidedly romantic. The two have a lot of fun together until they chance upon Ali (Fawad Khan), a former lover of Alizeh’s for whom she still harbours romantic feelings.
Drawn to Ali, Alizeh abandons Ayan, who takes refuge in the arms of a highly made-up Urdu poet, Saba (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan). But Saba, ironically, refers to Noor Jehan’s Mujhse Pehli Si Mohabbat as a song and wears oversized false eyelashes twenty-four hours a day. The flimsy love quadrangle is resolved in a third act that is as preposterous as it is long.
Kapoor is the one strength of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. A very resourceful actor, he has an endearing persona and a remarkable ability to communicate adolescent angst, unbridled love and emotional vulnerability. He is a skilled dancer and a consummate actor. The camera and, very obviously, Johar – love him. A number of suggestive shots of Kapoor in the film add little to Ayan’s character but reveal a lot about the director’s proclivities.
Kapoor’s charismatic presence and solid performance, unfortunately, fail to save Ae Dil Hai Mushkil, which starts to come undone a few minutes after the opening sequence. Sharma tries a little too hard to play the gutsy, witty, and energetic Alizeh and makes her character both annoying and irritating. Rai sleepwalks through the film, delivering corny, cheesy poetry on rote, while looking tired, old, and unattractive. The character of Ali is unusually underwritten and Fawad plays it half-heartedly, with equal measures of nonchalance and disinterest. A cameo by a horribly-aged Shahrukh Khan butchering a couplet by Faiz Ahmed Faiz does not help the film, neither do those by Lisa Haydon and Imran Abbas.
The problems of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil are not limited to poor performances and unsuccessful cameos. The story is improbable, imbalanced and contrived. The intellectually vacuous dialogues that pervade the film are hackneyed, banal, and pretentious.
Music composer Pritam Chakraborty and lyricist Amitabh Bhattacharya deliver a lackluster background score and fail to producing even one good song for Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. The duo transforms several well-known poetry pieces into tracks without soul by simplifying rhythm and melodic modes and adding the discordant sounds of guitars, violins and cellos. The cover of Fareeda Khanum’s masterpiece Aaj Jane Ki Zid Na Karo, used to prop a scene up is criminally inadequate. The singer renders the songs without any feeling, skill and emotion.
The real problem with Ae Dil Hai Mushkil ultimately is Johar himself. The superstar director thinks that he has a keen understanding of modern relationships and the ability to bring them to screen but he is wrong. He may think that Ae Dil Hai Mushkil is deep and moving but, in reality, the film is traditional Bollywood with a little extra gloss and sheen to make it look good. And it is shallow, dreary and impotent.
Verdict: The problems of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil are not limited to poor performances and unsuccessful cameos. The story is improbable, imbalanced, and contrived.
Bio: Ally Adnan lives in Dallas, Texas, and writes on culture, history and arts. He tweets @allyadnan and can be reached at allyadnan@outlook.com
Published in The Express Tribune, November 1st , 2016.