Now if only whole movies could consist of only one Ranbir Kapoor. And then everything would have been so much in order.
But it isn’t.
And realistically, one Ranbir Kapoor is the smallest particle of an entire movie bomb.
And what a bomb this entire movie turned out to be.
When you sit down to watch an Imtiaz Ali movie, you hope for a lot more. You hope for the light-heartedness of Socha Na Thha, you expect the lyrical nature of Jab We Met, and of course you expect something containing some amount of brilliance like in Love Aaj Kal. But when everything ends up in a damn squib, then you can help but wonder, “What just happened?”
And right now, I am still trying to understand and explain to myself that last question. “What just happened?”
Because Rockstar is an utterly failed attempt. And here is why.
Never take on the tale of a rockstar. It is one of the most unfathomable realities that can be told, particularly when one is not one. And mind you, this is a difficult tale to tell even for an actual living-breathing rockstar. Never make a movie about a rockstar, when all you have is the simple-hearted love and adulation for a rockstar. Because you cannot do justice to the unwritten expanse of a rockstar’s life.
And that is exactly what happens in Rockstar. Clearly, Imtiaz Ali is completely clueless. And he tries to bring some dimension into it. He tries to force his way through the entire tale. And in the process, nothing makes sense at all.
Is a heartbreak all that takes to make or break a rockstar? Does talent play no part in this? Is only the gambit of pain, misery and suffering enough to crack open a rockstar’s can of worms? Surely yes, it does matter when you’re writing ‘Tears of Heaven’, but is every rockstar a star-crossed lover? What are we living in? The 1940s?
And when this is basically the sum and substance of an entire movie that you call Rockstar, then where is the hope of seeing anything that making even the slightest plausible sense in anything?
And the entire focus on the central character, aiming after a seemingly unattainable love, only hoping for it to be crushed so that he can find recourse to music, is so poorly developed that the viewer can never end up believe one, or another theory(ies).
He falls in love with her? No, he was only wanting her to reject him so that he could become a rockstar.
Does he not love her? No, he does. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Does she love him? Maybe, she is not sure.
Does she not love him then? Read above.
Is he a rockstar? Depends. Does she love him or not?
Am I still writing about this movie? Yes, my brains were robbed by Imtiaz Ali.
So, nothing. The point is the director is himself confused as to what he wants. And the entire transition suddenly into the bad boy image, all that just happens with no provocation, with no explanation.
The point is that this movie has one of the worst screenplays ever imagined by anyone who could hold a pen. Or type on a keyboard.
Like I already mentioned, firstly the premise of this movie is lost in obscurity. And then come to the additional subplots, which too make no sense whatsoever. It was great to see Shammi Kapoor on screen again. But the question is, did he not deserve a better send off than this one? What was he doing in the movie? What was he trying to say? What was his purpose? No one knows.
And that is just the very basic problem of this movie. The entire journey is never explained. What happens, why happens, how happens, where happens — everything here has been completely left unsaid.
And after Ranbir’s innocuous mention of Jim Morrison’s middle-finger incident at the start of the movie, when Jordon gets to show his middle-finger — that entire enigma of a scene is completely wasted in the movie. So much could have been made out of it, and when it actually comes on screen, you just cannot make the connect.
Connections. This movie has none.
And I am a self-confessed, self-declared A R Rahman fan. What’s up, Sir? What is the matter with you now? Music. You are the God of music. You are a double Oscar winner. You make us proud each and every time. But what happened to you this time? Did Imtiaz Ali pay you only half your fees that you scored brilliance in only half the album? And I have no clue why the director did not spot the travesty that was going on in an album for a movie called Rockstar. No music, barring perhaps ‘Sadda Haq’ (if only) can be deemed Rockstar worthy. Shame.
And clearly, Imtiaz Ali has no idea of casting — you know, calling in for auditions, screen tests, etc, etc. Or who in their right minds would cast Nargis Fakhri? If he was indeed so desperate to hire a Pakistani, why not Veena Malick? Even that witch was better than this Fakhri female! She can’t act, she can’t speak, she can’t even make a decent expression and she can’t look good to save her life. Who casts such a woman? Seriously!
The only redemption in this entire movie was Ranbir Kapoor. And nothing (clearly that is evident from this article till now) else at all. It seems he was the only one who came to work during this movie. From the rough Janardan Jakhar, to the brazen Jordon (oh yes, and that — Jordon? Really? And yes, the really needs to be said it in Chandler’s high pitched voice) he moves along the entire movie like it really happened to him. Which alone says a lot about his performance. Since in a movie that does not connect the dots, or make any point to begin with, he actually makes it all work. And what better compliment can I give this guy? He is the Rockstar. Period. He will always be the Rockstar. He is mesmerising, he is the man.
Rating for this movie?
(Chandler Bing, thank you for letting me explain how ‘really’ really sounds when you are completely shocked to your very bone.)
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