Jawan review:
Jawan has all the elements of a quintessential Bollywood blockbuster. Whistle-inducing dialogues and action sequences, a credible plot, woman power, foot-tapping music, a bevy of stars, and of course Khan himself.
In Hindi cinema, the portrayal of anti-establishment themes has always been popular among the audience. These films have served as a means of catharsis for viewers who were disillusioned with corrupt politicians and bureaucratic red tape. The Tamil film industry has produced several films in this genre, with director Shankar being its most successful proponent.
However, in recent years, Bollywood has taken a different path – portraying anti-establishment themes through the filmography of a certain Indo-Canadian actor who is now very much Indian. Hence, Atlee’s ‘Jawaan’ (co-written with S. Ramnath), comes as a game-changer in Bollywood, although this South Indian critic is quite familiar with it.
Shah Rukh Khan acts in a template Vijay film, the story of which is a mishmash of several Thalapathi-starrer films like ‘Kaththi’ (2014), ‘Theri’ (2016), ‘Mersal’ (2017), ‘Sarkar’ (2018), and ‘Bigil’ (2019). Each of these films is centered around a specific issue – farmer suicides, corruption in healthcare services, and so on – and ‘Jawaan’ deals with all of them. Atlee isn’t the original director, but the good thing is that he doesn’t pretend to be. His knack lies in taking the tried and tested material and ‘expanding’ it to the extent that you don’t mistake him for the source. So, when Shah Rukh soars to god-like heights, the specks of dust on his body make him look like a multi-armed deity, a cinematic elevation that surpasses the mediocrity of the previous poorly written dialogues.
But who is this deity? In the Atlee formula, flashbacks play a crucial role, so the audience has to wait to know the man behind the identity. Fast forward 30 years. We find ourselves in the Mumbai Metro, where a prisoner’s situation comes to light. In this, a Vikram Rathod (Shah Rukh Khan) commands a team of six women who serve as an inspirational squad. They come from different professions – doctors, teachers, hackers, artists, etc., and each has a personal reason to be part of this mission. Each reason is a small step towards the larger goal, but Atlee doesn’t have time to establish all of them. Lahar Khan and Sanya Malhotra get adequate coverage of their respective stories, and Priyamani gets edited into a flashback almost in haste.
We don’t know why the other three women joined this mission, but we assume it was for emotional stories that would move many simultaneously. Indeed, I am not being sarcastic. After every individual tells their story, the camera focuses on the tearful faces of the audience. There’s no subtlety in direction, nor should there be. This is not ‘woke’ cinema; this is old-school ‘woke’ cinema.
Shah Rukh, who used to sing old Hindi songs and display his star power as a calm personality, is a fantastic actor as a fearless individual. He’s a performer who knows his craft and exudes charisma in every frame. It gets even better when you understand the metaphor behind lines like “Before touching the son.” Later in the film, Shah Rukh looks straight into the camera and delivers an emotional speech, which Tamil audiences have heard countless times but is somewhat shocking to say in a Hindi film. The applause from the audience, with whom I watched the film, came naturally, as if in complete agreement with the superstar. I clapped too, not just due to peer pressure. It’s the kind of whistle-worthy moment that Hindi films shot in studios have been missing for the past few years.
Nayanthara plays a senior police officer, Narmada, who appears to earn ten lakhs on a government salary. She gets an action sequence, but her character is poorly written, and despite Nayanthara’s faultless acting, she emerges as a dim-witted policewoman. She is also connected to an untimely child, who displays the zeal of a maternal aunt to get her mother remarried. It’s somewhat reminiscent of the irritating Minnie in ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’ (1998). Is Narmada Tamil? Why is there Tamil music playing at her wedding? Why is she getting married in a lehenga-choli? So many questions.
Vijay Sethupathi takes control of a bad wig and worse character portrayal to impress us entirely as the antagonist, Pratipakshi Kaali Gayakwad. He manages to make Vijay Sethupathi both comical and menacing at the same time, and how he does it remains a mystery. His charisma even outshines Shah Rukh Khan, and it’s to his credit that the film works despite several flaws and blatant disregard for reality (Hint: a dance performance of a child’s birth in jail).
Deepika Padukone appears in a cameo and is part of a subplot that is a death knell for Atlee. She is beautiful but makes the sequence unintentionally comical. Nevertheless, the action set pieces are worth the money – they are gratuitous and serve no purpose, allowing you to enjoy them without worrying about anyone’s safety. The interlude points are exhilarating and provide a climax, while the rest of the heights are time-pass material.
Anirudh’s background score has elevated many average Tamil films to a grand scale, and he does a powerful job in ‘Jawaan’ as well. On this note, if we want our filmmakers to write better films, we might need to put restrictions on Anirudh. He understands the pulse of mass films like any other contemporary composer and gives ‘Jawaan’ some much-needed firepower. The credits roll as the audience remains seated, applauding with the signature ‘Ramaaiya Vastavaiya’ cheers, a testament to his prowess.
For Tamil audiences, ‘Jawaan’ is old wine in a new bottle (or a very old one). It’s a rehash of Vijay and a few other films, and the excitement lies in watching Shah Rukh adapt to the meter and sensibilities of such cinema. But for Hindi viewers, it’s as if they’ve just discovered TASMAC.