One of the things I loved about Ben Affleck's Argo is how, even when it took certain creative liberties and was comfortable in being a cracking evacuation potboiler, it distanced itself from exploring the melodramatic aspect of the story. The exceedingly smart script by Chris Terrio had enough meat to ensure that Argo worked without the histrionics that generally finds its way into films adapted from true stories, but it gave in to the temptation of lionizing its protagonist. Still, with the perfect blend of surprising humor and uncomfortable suspense, one could forgive that it bent certain facts to make for a more effective thriller.
Raja Krishna Menon's Airlift is no Argo. It doesn't have the sharpness or smarts or slickness. Instead, it trades whatever was good about Argo for sappiness. Although the real-life story it is adapted from is boggling in its statistics -- nearly 1,70,000 Indians were evacuated from Kuwait after Iraq's invasion of it through 488 Air India flights in 59 days in 1990 -- Menon's film fails to remind us of the sheer scale or complexity of the operation. Of course, there might be several reasons for this, the first being that he wanted it to be more about the people than the operation itself. The second reason might be that it falls victim to the itch of wanting to create a character who is the quintessential hero, a people's hero, a role model and therefore disregards the enormity of the rescue mission.
But I wonder: why was it necessary for the film to be a one-man show, a superhero film of sorts, when a simple telling of the actual operation, as intricate and astonishing as any, could have made for a better film?
To Menon's credit, things kick off reasonably well, but not before -- dear me! -- an exasperating and wholly uncalled for song sequence ten minutes into the film. Iraq invades Kuwait in the middle of the night, several are killed or rendered homeless, and brutality spreads its tentacles as far as one can see. Tension gradually seeps into the story as paranoia and dread blanket the streets, and the Indian people nurture a common dream to escape as the death toll climbs. The horrors of the invasion are brought to the screen credibly with fantastic production design and cinematography, and this perhaps is where Airlift gets it right first. The protagonist is etched carefully, his vulnerability and helplessness changing to horror first and then rage. His reaction to the bloodbath echoes how an ordinary person would, not a character in a Hindi potboiler. There is no tearing of shirts or a lightly patriotic tune playing in the background, or the usual emphatic delivery of punchy dialogue; there is uncertainty flickering in every frame. We are not sure whom to trust. Airlift conveys the feeling of world-weariness well. But the problems begin piling up when the relationships begin to develop -- or don't -- in ways that are more annoying than engaging, at least for a film that holds the potential to turn into a fine thriller.
As is always the case, the romantic angle here threatens to sour an otherwise pulpy plot. The arguments between the hero and his wife sound forced and there isn't a hint of chemistry between the two leads, but the songs between the two indicate love and longing. (Which prompts me to ask: why are we being force-fed the romance?) This particular detail of a wife disillusioned with her husband but seeing him in a different light afterwards stays till the end, and it doesn't serve to signify anything substantial. Or that of another little romantic angle that is thankfully kept understated but doesn't entirely justify its inclusion in the film.
But where Airlift really gets it wrong is in the characterization of some of the people involved. We are treated to caricatures in the form of an Iraqi major with a questionable accent spouting Hindi with flair, a grouchy South Indian cynic who doesn't stop with his questions and a casually disinterested politician who couldn't care less about the rescue. Some characters are intelligently written and the actors perform beautifully; the restraint and nuance they bring to their respective roles add to the film's dramatic power in the second half. (Kumud Mishra, playing a government official in a dingy office who eventually sets the ball rolling, is reliably excellent in a bit role.) But what is unfortunate is, scenes with badly-written characters that seem to give way to preachy speeches outnumber the ones that are terse but well-written. And in the flat-out sentimental and patriotic climax that could have done with less theatricality, we know the paths the film took would eventually lead to here. And we wish it did not. To expect a thriller and get a half-baked potboiler in return is akin to finding a slice of rotten tomato in a delectable salad. It won't spoil the meal entirely, but each bite after that would be a cautious one.
Airlift does get some things right, though. Akshay Kumar delivers one of his best performances in a role that, for once, didn't require him to be all sound and fury. But when our protagonist engaged in a fistfight with four armed and hefty Iraqi soldiers to save his people and still lived, I was done. I knew where that path led to. And it wasn't a very jolly discovery.
(Not For Reproduction)
Raja Krishna Menon's Airlift is no Argo. It doesn't have the sharpness or smarts or slickness. Instead, it trades whatever was good about Argo for sappiness. Although the real-life story it is adapted from is boggling in its statistics -- nearly 1,70,000 Indians were evacuated from Kuwait after Iraq's invasion of it through 488 Air India flights in 59 days in 1990 -- Menon's film fails to remind us of the sheer scale or complexity of the operation. Of course, there might be several reasons for this, the first being that he wanted it to be more about the people than the operation itself. The second reason might be that it falls victim to the itch of wanting to create a character who is the quintessential hero, a people's hero, a role model and therefore disregards the enormity of the rescue mission.
But I wonder: why was it necessary for the film to be a one-man show, a superhero film of sorts, when a simple telling of the actual operation, as intricate and astonishing as any, could have made for a better film?
To Menon's credit, things kick off reasonably well, but not before -- dear me! -- an exasperating and wholly uncalled for song sequence ten minutes into the film. Iraq invades Kuwait in the middle of the night, several are killed or rendered homeless, and brutality spreads its tentacles as far as one can see. Tension gradually seeps into the story as paranoia and dread blanket the streets, and the Indian people nurture a common dream to escape as the death toll climbs. The horrors of the invasion are brought to the screen credibly with fantastic production design and cinematography, and this perhaps is where Airlift gets it right first. The protagonist is etched carefully, his vulnerability and helplessness changing to horror first and then rage. His reaction to the bloodbath echoes how an ordinary person would, not a character in a Hindi potboiler. There is no tearing of shirts or a lightly patriotic tune playing in the background, or the usual emphatic delivery of punchy dialogue; there is uncertainty flickering in every frame. We are not sure whom to trust. Airlift conveys the feeling of world-weariness well. But the problems begin piling up when the relationships begin to develop -- or don't -- in ways that are more annoying than engaging, at least for a film that holds the potential to turn into a fine thriller.
As is always the case, the romantic angle here threatens to sour an otherwise pulpy plot. The arguments between the hero and his wife sound forced and there isn't a hint of chemistry between the two leads, but the songs between the two indicate love and longing. (Which prompts me to ask: why are we being force-fed the romance?) This particular detail of a wife disillusioned with her husband but seeing him in a different light afterwards stays till the end, and it doesn't serve to signify anything substantial. Or that of another little romantic angle that is thankfully kept understated but doesn't entirely justify its inclusion in the film.
But where Airlift really gets it wrong is in the characterization of some of the people involved. We are treated to caricatures in the form of an Iraqi major with a questionable accent spouting Hindi with flair, a grouchy South Indian cynic who doesn't stop with his questions and a casually disinterested politician who couldn't care less about the rescue. Some characters are intelligently written and the actors perform beautifully; the restraint and nuance they bring to their respective roles add to the film's dramatic power in the second half. (Kumud Mishra, playing a government official in a dingy office who eventually sets the ball rolling, is reliably excellent in a bit role.) But what is unfortunate is, scenes with badly-written characters that seem to give way to preachy speeches outnumber the ones that are terse but well-written. And in the flat-out sentimental and patriotic climax that could have done with less theatricality, we know the paths the film took would eventually lead to here. And we wish it did not. To expect a thriller and get a half-baked potboiler in return is akin to finding a slice of rotten tomato in a delectable salad. It won't spoil the meal entirely, but each bite after that would be a cautious one.
Airlift does get some things right, though. Akshay Kumar delivers one of his best performances in a role that, for once, didn't require him to be all sound and fury. But when our protagonist engaged in a fistfight with four armed and hefty Iraqi soldiers to save his people and still lived, I was done. I knew where that path led to. And it wasn't a very jolly discovery.
(Not For Reproduction)
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