Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota
Action in Hindi cinema has long been a genre of gravity-defying slow-motion car flips and crashes, an protagonist who somehow manages to beat trained villains and their henchmen to pulp without breaking a sweat, terribly cut shots and flashy cinematography that is the same no matter who the DP is. In short, it’s a genre that’s been abused relentlessly in the name of entertainment and is done in a manner so lacking in style and originality that it looks the same no matter who does it. Of late however, there seem to have been attempts to do justice to two brands of action: stylistic (Uri) and realistic (Sonchiriya), and now the third RSVP film of 2019 pulls off “cinematic” action in a way like no other Hindi film has.
With Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota, Vasan Bala has arrived. Well, he arrived in 2012 with Peddlers but because not many people saw it (thanks, Eros), it is this film that Vasan will be judged by from now on.
In Mard…., Vasan marries dark crime with zany irreverance and tributes to cinema, held together by a protagonist who suffers (is it suffering, though?) from Congenial Insensitivity to Pain (Google it; sorry, Vasan, for stealing your dialogue). The protagonist Surya has to be taught to say “ouch” when something that is supposed to hurt him physically happens. For that, and for his martial arts training, he relies on his grandfather Ajoba, a genial, doting old fellow who wants nothing but the kid’s happiness. Like every good film, Mard….. sees a series of unfortunate events that end up separating Surya from his friend Supri, the only person who cares about him apart from his father and grandfather. That’s about all I’m going to say about the film because revealing any more would be akin to thinking I can tell Vasan’s story better.
Radhika Madan as the spunky Supri is a delight to watch. She tackles not only the bad guys but also patriarchy, so double whammy! In a character as far as can possibly be from Badki of Pataakha, Radhika performs wonderfully, often serving as the sole sane character in this whacked out Matunga-based universe.
As Ajoba, Mahesh Manjrekar gets some of the more hilarious lines in the film and pulls them off with flair. It’s so refreshing to see an on-screen grandfather who is as reckless as the grandson, perhaps a little more. Manjrekar is able to bring so much to the character with a lazy, easy manner that makes him instantly likeable, and Vasan does a splendid job of portraying the Ajoba-Surya relationship.
There’s two Gulshan Devaiahs in the film – the cliché drunken down-on-his-luck Master Mani, and his twin Jimmy, the cliché psychotic villain. Devaiah makes you feel for Mani and empathise with him, but when Jimmy takes over, he is an absolute riot, especially in the scene where all his henchmen are yelling before a fight and he tells them to zip it, adding that they are in a residential area. The banter between them is enough to make your eyes water, and the Rajni-Kamal comparison was so damn on point.
Abhimanyu Dassani, making his debut, brings to the screen an innocence that is new. Vasan also doesn’t saddle him with debutant tropes, and Abhimanyu utilises that freedom extremely well by simply existing in a most endearing manner.
The man of the moment, though, is Vasan himself. He goes against the grain of flashy cinematography (the film is shot by Jay I. Patel, who does what he did with Raazi – by allowing the camera to serve the director) and vulgar editing (some action films are the pits because of the way they are cut; this one isn’, thanks to Prerna Saigal), opting for a more realistic and yet fantastical approach. His homages to the movies do not feel like Anurag Basu’s (his set pieces feel lifted) and they are genuine to the core, from the references to the absurdities to the voiceover and to what I felt was the biggest tribute to the movies people from 18-30 years of age watched – the casting of Shweta Basu Prasad as Surya’s mother. Then there are his tributes to his roots with the Matunga setting and the Tamil characters, as well as Ajoba, who I believe might owe something to Vasan’s grandfather, if his speech at TIFF is anything to go by. Vasan whips up delicious humour (the pistol requisition scene alone is worth the price of the ticket) and throws in some genuine heartfelt moments, along with a staunch couple of lines about the mistreatment of women. In a way, Mard… is a complete film. Everything fits.
The review is extremely late, and unfortunately Mard… has started to leave theatres but do watch it if you can. The movies haven’t been this fun in a long time!
Cinephile Stock 