Review: Maneesh Sharma's "Fan" fails to fully explore its intriguing premise.

An obsessive fan uncannily resembles a star he adores. Think of the possibilities this one-line story idea can birth. In the hands of a filmmaker who loves to get creative, it could develop into a bizarre masterpiece. In the hands of another filmmaker who enjoys making psychological thrillers, it could be the film they had waited to dig their hands into. Why, then, should it become a perplexingly illogical thriller about a cocky and paranoid star chasing a heartbroken fan out to destroy the stardom he holds dear through two different cities? Maneesh Sharma's Fan becomes just that.

We get why Sharma chose to cast Shah Rukh Khan in this role. I mean, who else could it have been? The man's stardom knows no limits. His name that became synonymous with Hindi cinema two decades ago still amasses an enormous following wherever he goes. And it has been a while since we saw him clawing into a meaty role. (It has been nine long years since Chak De! India.) But it has been longer since we saw him as a nobody, not as the most popular guy in college, not as the son of an affluent father, but just a regular guy who gets lost in the crowd. A guy who picks up a petty fight with three aggressive men, a guy who loves just for a fleeting moment the idea of having a fan-following. Sharma and Khan, with writer Habib Faisal, create an utterly ordinary and likable Delhi guy (which, for some reason, is no longer easy to do in Hindi cinema) who is besotted with a man he watches every other month on the big screen. All he wants are five minutes with his "god."

I have never been a fan of Shah Rukh Khan, having only admired a few performances of his, but I have immense respect for him. The absurd extent of his stardom notwithstanding, he has proven time and time again that he can act, that he's more than capable of just romancing women on-screen or hamming it up as a villain in some tacky thriller. And once in a while when a turn like this from him comes along -- committed and unassuming, escaping the star persona that always seems to accompany him to the big screen -- it makes me want to get up and embrace it. It is an outstanding performance, one that reminded me of Frances McDormand as Marge Gunderson in Ethan and Joel Coen's Fargo. (May the cinematic gods forgive me for that outrageous comparison.) As his own biggest fan, Khan is willfully over-the-top, as McDormand also was in the role that fetched her an Oscar. But it is for a reason: the fan apes the man he sees on the big screen, his gait, the way he talks and conducts himself. And acting in Hindi cinema has always been only a bit shy of hammy. But underneath the theatricality on display, there's emotion. Khan imbues the character of Gaurav, the fan, with a naivety that makes us relate with him instantly. He's attracted not to the glamour of the film industry but to the man, Aryan Khanna, the star, who for him represents the industry. Who represents the rag-to-riches myth that Gaurav wants for himself.

In the first half, Fan does what we expect it to do. It gives us a fan right out of the many stories the papers run on a celebrity's birthday and paints his Delhi middle-class life using vivid details. When the story moves to Mumbai, where the admirer comes with a wish to meet his hero and present him with a gift on his birthday, we get to know him a little better. He's confident and foolishly audacious. He's not afraid to create a ruckus in order to get what he wants. (That means he will not think twice before bribing a man or even hanging out of a running train to quench his fanboy whims.) And yet he is vulnerable. He is emotional and sensitive.

There are a couple of nicely done sequences, like the one where Gaurav is momentarily stunned to see the star in the flesh and calls out to him, but his voice is lost in the uproar that follows when Aryan Khanna appears. But here's the problem: the approach is too simplistic. Using real-life footage, we see the magnitude of Aryan Khanna's stardom, but the film fails to cash in on it in the next moment. How can a superstar walk around with only four cronies? How can he not get mobbed when he is alone? And for how long could this go on? (But these mistakes, hardly worthy of attention in the first half, balloon into something graver and jeopardize the appeal of the story in the second.) The fan is coolly snubbed by his idol and is left disillusioned. Left to deal with the heartbreak. Sharma wants to make us fear a heartbroken fan. He sets up the clash neatly, developing both characters just about enough to give us an idea what awaits us.

And then the film nosedives.

To achieve the briskness and adrenaline rush of thrillers like the Bourne series (here's a timely question: Why?) that consist of many chases through alleys and rooftops and in its attempt to imitate something similar, Fan completely shuns logic and renounces its psychodramatic ambitions. At least the Bourne films earned those chases. Not only does it turn humdrum with an added splash of melodrama, it transforms into something far worse, something we didn't expect: a sort of half-baked commercial outing where the star gives a speech about why fans must carve an identity for themselves and not make their life be about someone they see on the big screen. We suspect the heavy-handedness has something to do with making it a more sellable product. Either way, the attempt to balance melodrama with action does not make for a very memorable setup.

What made Rob Reiner's Misery and Martin Scorsese's The King of Comedy, two films about obsessive fans reaching out to their idols, absolutely first-rate was that they made the most of their characters and settings. But if the likable and not-really-crazy antagonist of The King of Comedy was dumped in a Misery-like setting, things would understandably turn absurd. Fan does something similar. We feel for the fan, but it is hard to buy the fact that an ordinary nobody would go that far in his quest for vengeance. He needed a different, more reasonable story. And Shah Rukh Khan, too. He brought his A-game. Unfortunately, the script didn't rise to the challenge this time around.

(Not For Reproduction)

Handpicks: The 10 Best Films of 2015 -- Vol. II

I watched some wonderful films released last year in the last three months, and I have tried to include those that were a touch better than the good ones in this list. I still haven't seen some. And since April is upon us already, it might be too late to release another version. But if I may say so, please do not miss Jacques Audiard's Dheepan, Pablo Larrain's The Club, Pablo Trapero's The Clan, Anna Muylaert's The Second Mother and Stéphane Lafleur's Tu Dors Nicole. The buzz surrounding these films is pretty strong and they would make for compelling viewings. I can hardly wait to watch them.

I have divided this post into two sections. So, let's start with:

The Ones That Didn't Work:

(+) Victoria (Germany)

To say Sebastian Schipper's Victoria is impressively made would be an understatement, a mighty big one. The 138-minute crime-drama is shot in a single take with a committed bunch of actors who do a great job. And the camerawork is worth a mention, too. But here is the thing about one-take films: They drag. Things are left undercooked. Editing injects life into a film. For almost an hour, Victoria is tedious. It does get going soon, turning into a fabulous crime-thriller from a heavy-handed drama, but there isn't enough here to redeem some of its drawbacks. The emotional payoffs are abundant. Perhaps scissoring it would have made it a better film.

(+) The Revenant (US)

Alejandro G. Iñárritu's The Revenant is the kind of film that is conceived with the misconception that it will be unquestionably great if it ever gets made. In its 156 gruesome minutes, it does a lot to draw our attention to the fact that it nearly did not get made. And the idea that one should heap praises on it because they got to watch this gory spectacle is an idea that drives it. But The Revenant is a massive, massive disappointment. To be fair, it is a technical marvel that boasts of determined performances from the cast and jaw-dropping imagery (lensed to perfection as usual by Emmanuel Lubezski), but it does little to tell a good story. Repetitive, overstretched till it almost snaps and somewhat mundane, The Revenant tries hard to be as great a film as it thinks it is but never gets there. (Thank God for the 'bear attack' sequence to give me my money's worth.)

(+) Marshland (Spain)

Women get murdered in a small rural town and two homicide detectives who don't quite get along are sent to investigate the case. Does it ring a bell? If you have seen the fine first season of True Detective, chances are that you have seen flashes of Alberto Rodriguez's Marshland in it. Its moody atmosphere and fabulous cinematography are not enough to shake off the the sinking feeling that we have sat through all of it before. There are a handful of intriguing moments, of course, but it never manages to surpass or even rival the skill of its American counterpart. (If you haven't seen the first season of True Detective, this is well worth checking out.)

(+) A Wolf at the Door (Brazil)

Had it been done well, really well, A Wolf at the Door would have been riveting. It is riveting, to be fair, but when it gets to its stunning conclusion it is already a bit of a mess. An intricate narrative employed to tell the tale of a child getting kidnapped is not a good idea because the central plot thread might get lost in the shuffle. And that does happen here. Still, A Wolf at the Door gathers steam near the end and finishes on a high. But the devastating final blow we expected from it misses its mark. And that is disappointing.

Now that I have got that out of the way, here are:

The Ones That Did Work:

(+) Son of Saul (Hungary)

László Nemes' stunning debut is the closest thing to a modern classic I have seen recently, and also the best film of 2015.

(+) Phoenix (Germany)

An elegantly crafted film that drips with atmosphere and mood and offers affecting drama, Christian Petzold's Phoenix is an unusual revenge tale that concerns itself more with an individual slowly coming to terms with a betrayal than how that individual exacts her vengeance. With impeccable performances and a strong narrative structure, Phoenix is never less than masterful. And, of course, the fade-out moment is worthy of a salute.

(+) Theeb (Jordan/UAE/Qatar/UK)

What can be said of one of the finer directorial debuts of last year? Naji Abu Nowar's Oscar-nominated Theeb was always going to be a dark horse, but a rather magnificent dark horse it was. A deliberately paced small-scale epic, Theeb was absorbing and informative, vicariously transporting us to the unforgiving deserts of Jordan while allowing us a rare peek into the Bedouin way of life. Although Norwar had very little to work with here, he managed to produce an earnest, nearly flawless film that we are likely not going to forget anytime soon. That is more than what some directors do on fatter budgets, better production values and with popular faces steering the film.

(+) 45 Years (UK)

Andrew Haigh's delicate meditation on marriage and the fragility of it is explored through the eyes of an aging couple whose relationship is about to fall apart when the past comes knocking. Bolstered by two of last year's most searing performances by Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay, the sharply observed 45 Years beckons us to put ourselves in the shoes of its protagonists, and when we do it forces us to confront certain truths about us. For a small film, what it achieves is sure remarkable.

(+) The Hateful Eight (US)

Twice I have seen this film. And twice I have enjoyed the heck out of it. It is disgusting, yes. Indulgent, also. Maybe even unjustifiably lengthy and verbose. Furthermore, I have been told by some that they think it is among Quentin Tarantino's weaker efforts. To some extent, all of this is true. But The Hateful Eight, with all its drawbacks, is a grand vision, confidently conceived, and it is hard to dispute that fact although one could argue that it doesn't entirely earn that label. Tarantino's gift of creating characters that stay in our memories and giving them lines to say that we hear ourselves saying someday is on full display here, and he makes us envy it. With the legendary Ennio Morricone giving it the sound it needs, The Hateful Eight is a worthy addition to Tarantino's handsome oeuvre.

(+) Steve Jobs (US)

There is no other word to describe Danny Boyle's latest offering: electrifying. The Aaron Sorkin-scripted three-act Steve Jobs may well be a fictitious re-enactment of three of the creative genius' biggest moments, but it is fashioned like a giddily exciting thriller that is more about people trying to win at conversation than people trying to put generation-defining ideas into effect. On any other day with any other script writer we might prefer to watch people create and not talk. But Sorkin's superb writing, coupled with Boyle's sure-handed direction, bears the skill to create vivid characters and bring them to life.

(+) Bridge of Spies (US)

By the mid-2000s, Steven Spielberg had noticeably lost some of the sheen that made him one of the most regarded filmmakers in modern cinema. But that doesn't matter now. Bridge of Spies, while not being among his best and not even being close to being one of his best, is still a damn fine film. It has, among other things, like Mark Rylance's marvelous turn that towers over a veteran actor like Tom Hanks, Spielberg's undying optimism and the usual sentimental punch of a Spielberg venture. Which is surprising, since his last great film was Munich in 2005 and that was Spielberg at his most cynical. Bridge of Spies tramples on safe grounds, but delivers an oddly effective combination of suspense and sentimentality.

(+) Black Coal, Thin Ice (China)

One of the pleasures of watching a suspense film is discovering that we are actually in the hands of a clever storyteller who wants to keep springing surprises, and we surrender instead of trying to outwit them. In this case, the lasting impact of Diao Yinan's slow-burning suspense thriller about two detectives trying to solve an old murder case might have been a bit diluted owing to the romantic angle at its centre that takes up a substantial chunk of the movie's runtime. But it does not negate the sharpness with which this film is plotted. A film that, like any worthy mystery film, keeps throwing us off the rails about its real intentions. Does it want to be a sibling of Memories of Murder, also a detective film but one that expertly blends dark humor, tragedy and suspense? Does it want to be a melancholic romance? We can't say. But by the end, Black Coal, Thin Ice does more than what we expect from it: it convinces us that it was both.

(+) Room (Canada/Ireland/UK)

One of my biggest reservations before I walked into Room was whether director Lenny Abrahamson was the right person to helm or not. It wasn't unfounded, though. Abrahamson had last made Frank, a quirky tragicomedy about a group of wannabe musicians, and was perhaps an unorthodox choice for a seemingly claustrophobic nail-biter. But I need not have worried. Room is an extremely well-acted and efficient drama that cleverly sidesteps the trappings of its genre to deliver an emotional mother-son story under the guise of a thriller. But it is Jacob Tremblay (all of just nine, how extraordinary!) and Brie Larson who, by delivering sensational performances, elevate this indie from the sea of ones like it and make the experience unforgettable.

(+) Our Little Sister (Japan)

(Full disclosure: I'm a huge admirer of Hirokazu Kore-eda's cinema. So, I might sound a bit biased here.) In comparison to 2011's I Wish and 2013's Like Father, Like Son, his last two films, Kore-eda's new film pales, and that might be its only problem. But on its own, Our Little Sister is exactly the kind of gently moving, empathetic and optimistic film we have come to expect from the master filmmaker. Here, he explores with his usual flair and keenness the relationship people share when thrown in the most curious of circumstances, something brought about by fate. And it is the hope he injects into it once again that makes it so likable a film. Ultimately, though, Our Little Sister might be a tad ineffectual for it leaves things a little unexplored. But Kore-eda's touch is unmistakable. And that touch is quite something.

(+) Creed (US)

2013's Fruitvale Station introduced us to two remarkable talents in director Ryan Coogler and actor Michael B. Jordan. Creed does its bit to assure us that they weren't flukes. Resurrecting the Rocky series with style, energy and passion, Creed is a brilliantly made tale of loss and hope that packs a hefty emotional punch. What else, it sure is wonderful to see Sylvester Stallone reprising the role that made him a star, and a star he remains. While he imbues Creed with heart, it is the team of Jordan and Coogler who retain some of the original Rocky's energy and turn this comeback into both a respectful tribute and a standalone jewel.

(+) What We Do In The Shadows (New Zealand/US)

This was a really risky proposition. With the number of vampire movies being attempted every year, it would be truly challenging to find something offbeat in terms of style and, more importantly, substance. But Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement's bromance What We Do In The Shadows is a goofy and inventive mockumentary that is better than most vampire movies I have seen, and one that is reminiscent of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. (Although it doesn't quite touch the level of genius of the latter.) Ultimately, the film does overstay its welcome by a small margin, but it provides enough good-humored chuckles to be worth our time.

(+) Alleluia (Belgium/France)

Fabrice Du Welz's Alleluia is a feverish exercise in evil. It is easy to become repulsed by it, and it just as easy to get sucked into it. It is a wild, weird romance, full of passion and intensity and obsession, and it is told with unflinching determination. Loosely based on the true story of the Lonely Hearts Killers who achieved considerable notoriety in the late '40s, Alleluia is barely watchable but makes for a compelling viewing. Not for the faint of heart, though.

The Second Version:

The second version of my list of the best films of 2015, as it looks now:

1. Son of Saul (Hungary)
2. Taxi (Iran)
3. Carol (US)
4. Killa (India)
5. The Look of Silence (Denmark/Finland/Indonesia/Norway/UK)
6. Phoenix (Germany)
7. Spotlight (US)
8. Court (India)
9. Güeros (Mexico)
10. Mustang (France/Turkey/Germany) and Theeb (Jordan/UAE/Qatar/UK)

(Not For Reproduction)