Bajrangi Bhaijaan ***
Dir: Kabir Khan.
With: Salman Khan, Kareena Kapoor Khan, Harshaali Malhotra, Nawazuddin
Siddiqui. 163 mins. Cert: 12A
Hindi cinema
traditionally marks the Eid celebrations – denoting Ramadan’s end – by
releasing a wholesome entertainment upon which the entire family can feast.
This year, the task has again fallen to hulking action man Salman Khan, which
might – after the star’s recent court appearances – seem a little like
entrusting Katie Hopkins to say a few nice words before dinner. Nevertheless, Bajrangi Bhaijaan proceeds with a
narrative that proves both self-reflexive and highly emotive. This tale of a
man who, in shepherding a lost child, not only unites a family but builds
bridges between India and Pakistan boasts big shoulders and even bigger
ambitions.
Foremost among these
is a recalibration of the Khan star persona: it’s one of those
meathead-softeners in which a long-established tough guy plays a bit of a soft
touch. An early flashback reveals Khan’s country boy Pawan had to abandon his
wrestling career due to extreme ticklishness; now, he spends his days
worshipping the monkey deity Bajrang Bali, and merrily dancing like a chicken.
(This may be for home crowds what it is for Western viewers to watch Arnold
Schwarzenegger interacting with those talking meerkats: enough to make one
ponder the long-term mental effects of consuming all that whey protein.)
Pawan is presumably
how Khan now wants to be regarded: as an entertainer, a safe pair of hands, and
somebody to be trusted with our children. All these qualities are to the fore
when Pawan encounters Shahida (Harshaali Malhotra), a mute six-year-old
Kashmiri separated from her mother while crossing from India to Pakistan. To
return her, Pawan must interpret the clues his wordless ward inadvertently
provides. That she feels far more comfortable around mosques than her guardian
is a biggie; her elation at Pakistan’s victory over India in the cricket both
ruffles feathers and points the way home.
As these wide-eyed
innocents become embroiled in absurd regional disputes, BB overlaps somewhat with last Diwali’s sensation P.K., although there are more than just
physical differences between that film’s wily, questioning frontman Aamir Khan
and the barrelling Salman. This script plumps for broad, crowdpleasing comedy
over its predecessor’s unusually cutting satire – the chanciest it gets is when
Om Puri’s imam conceals Pawan from the authorities in a burqa, setting us to
wonder how the mosque found one in his size – and is prone to those odd tonal
shifts last experienced in Arnie’s would-be cuddly early 90s vehicles, veering
from violence to sentiment.
Still, it remains the
kind of package perhaps only Bollywood could now pull together: a movie that
feels calculated in its grand design, and yet which plays as wholly sincere and
heartfelt on a scene-by-scene basis. Central to its appeal is Malhotra, who
emerges as an absolute sweetie, liable to spark queues round the block outside
Kashmiri adoption agencies. Shahida’s muteness – pre-empting any offputting
precocity – may be even more crucial, but her silent responses are just a
treat; whenever the director Kabir Khan cuts to her in close-up, you feel your
heart being gently warmed like a marshmallow over a campfire.
This filmmaker grasps
the bigger picture, too: his sweeping helicopter shots, locating the hulk and
his tiny charge amid desert or mountain ranges, offer proof of Kashmir’s great,
diverse beauty, impressing upon us how it’s surely vast enough to be shared. By
expanding outwards, Bajrangi Bhaijaan works
up this pair’s progress – pressing on despite countless pitfalls and obstacles
– into a possible analogy for the peace process. It’s simple and
picturebook-ish, granted – so simple even an action hero might have it
explained to him – but that doesn’t make it, or the film’s potently
melodramatic conclusion, any less effective.
Bajrangi Bhaijaan is now playing in cinemas nationwide.
