MOVIE REVIEW

ROCK ON!

Rating: 4.25 /5

IT’S PURE MAGIK

There is something about Farhan Akhtar. In one of the most under-rated movies of our times ( at least in terms of commercial yardsticks) , Lakshya, which was his second directorial flirtation after the charmingly refreshing Dil Chahta Hai, the erstwhile timid spoilt lazy buffoon of a hero ( Hrithik Roshan) returns transformed, successfully battling Pakistani soldiers as he attempts a suicide mission to capture a strategic military base. In the last scene , redemption -time over, as he meets his girl-friend, earlier disillusioned but now bowled over, he walks in with a humble expression, with just a faint flicker of a smile. No Krish super-hero ego, no bravado, no machismo. They hug. And the movie ends. Just naturally.

Rock On, this week’s release, has the same simplicity written all over it, with every beat of the drum, with every strum of the guitar. The heart-aches caused by failure, past resentments and regrets not willing to let go, circumstances dictating relationships gone awry. But through the maze of time and ten years gone past, a hope is rekindled. And a dream on rewind , goes on play.

Farhan Akhtar ( lead rock singer), Arjun Ramphal ( long-haired , intense main guitarist), Purab Kohli ( the Killer Drummer) and Luke Kenny ( eclectic on the keyboard) are the band called Magik. They huddle up, conjure up tunes, have fun and best of all believe they can hit the radio waves. Cut that entry to big-ticket fame; a music video. In the film’s early moments they belt out Socha Hai ( somewhere near Flora Fountain, Mumbai) , at once earthy and grabby, setting the pace for some pumped-up music, high on modern-day lyrics, but happily married to conventional rock-base. And unlike cardboard stereotypes, these are genuine good middle-class folks with no bad habits just because they are musically inclined. . No drugs, street violence or sexual promiscuity.

But winning the Channel V contest is only a half-ticket for rock-group Magik, as the music company owner sets some terms and conditions; like the item number, for instance, and some garish razzmatazz for the album cover. Magik’s rose-tinted ideals come crashing down as market-realities take over. In a well-constructed shot, all hell breaks loose, as Ramphal hits hard ( literally) at the shady music video-director. Even Farhan is not spared for playing soft. Magik breaks-up instant. The leading protagonists clash. And separate.

Ten years later, Akhtar is a boring investment banker recommending infrastructure stocks to real-estate builders, with a pretty wife in Prachi Desai who looks confused and unhappy in a large, empty home. Only Akhtar does not have time to notice. Ramphal struggles to make a living, playing tunes in weddings where the bar-counter cacophony rules. Purab is busy peddling designer jewelry to society-women , and Kenny is the lone ranger doing the studio rounds selling small jingles..

And then in a chance encounter with Purab, Prachi discovers why her husband is so joyless, so listless, why the long curls have gone, why there is no music in his soul. It does not help that she also finds a dusky beauty hidden in those carefully preserved albums. But she goes about a re-union plan anyway , and in the process reignites Magik’s suppressed burning desires; clearly, the embers haven’t died yet. Magik returns , one more time, for the last hurrah.

Farhan is remarkably comfortable in his first-outing as an actor avatar , bringing in mature, unaffected mannerisms, displaying the deft skills that he obviously orchestrates well from behind-the-cameras anyway. He is excellent in the scene where he talks to Prachi on her answering-machine , telling her how much she means to him. Ramphal looks his role, and acts with that brooding loneliness of a man who is at constant cross-roads in his life. As his wife who understands his pain but is ready to rough it out, Shahana is a revelation. There is that poignant moment when she scrubs perfume generously on her palms to diffuse the fish-smell from her hand, a subtle reminder of the former fashion stylist’s hard times. Purab Kohli and Luke Kenny have supporting roles, but they bring their own individuality to their roles, their own idiosyncrasies.

As a first-time director, Abhishek Kapoor seems inspired by Farhan’s own debut film, but who is complaining. This is a terrific beginning. Shankar Ehsan Loy continue with their trademark experimentation with zestful creations.

The film has one singular drawback; the coming together looks rather hurried and far too contrived and unobstructed , and makes you wonder why, it should take a casual happenstance to bring them back together again. It’s far too convenient to be plausible.

The sets, the live performances, the grand finale, the characters, the dialogues, the situational speak, they all look and sound real. And it is great to have a rock-singer sing in his own Farhan voice. And when Yeh Tumhari Meri Baatein plays in the back-ground as the group jams, and the wife returns home on a tip-toe, the movie reaches a sublime level of emotional connect. It is , yes, a homecoming for all. There is magic in the air.