The black bleakness attached
to coalmines is nothing compared to the bizarre nonsense in the name of movies,
mafias and the biggest myth of all, ‘mother’s love’. Koyelaanchal is the worst
possible film that pretends to have any connection with any reality whatsoever.
This is not surprising,
considering the director, Ashu Trikha’s previous debacle like 'Enemmy'. It is
even less surprising when the lead star cast boasts of worn out wood chiseled
Suniel Shetty and a still handsome but ineffective, weak voiced Vinod Khanna
whose bright jackets and orange tikkas on the forehead, do nothing to make him
look like a formidable mafia boss. Their city bred looks and flat diction are a
far cry from their small town characters from backward Bihar backdrop.
Despite the low angled, slow
motion, in-the -shadow introductory shots and constant loud explosions and a
particular slap sound replay throughout the film, this Bihari goon, Surya Bhan
Singh (Khanna) amuses more than terrorises. Even his Hanuman pujas are as old
as Amrish Puri’s chants in Subhash Ghai films from the 90s.
The pretense at hard hitting
reality starts with a historical beginning stating how the Government took over
the coalmines business with the 1973 Coal Mines Act and this gave birth to the
coal mafia in some Bihar belts like Jharia. The makers probably had ‘Gangs of
Wasseypur’ in mind.
However, you see nothing of
any actual coalmine activities and so called ‘mazdoor’ exploitations except for
undecipherable, long, poetic speeches. By now, Amitabh Bachchan and Shatrughan
Sinha from ‘Kaala Patthar’ are deeply missed.
Yet, you bravely decide to hope for an uncut
diamond somewhere deep buried within the loud and meaningless coalmine blasts
and even louder background score.
Instead you find the most
ridiculous tall rock in the form of a silent slave, Karua (Vipinno).The bare chest, sinewy
muscles, long hair, cold eyes are meant to scare more than Gabbar. This
heartless rock kills and shoots at his master’s orders. He then digs his hands
into his bloody handiwork and writes with blood on walls. The villagers watch
in shock and children simply wash their footballs off the splattered blood.
Karua’s activities move on to
sleazier visuals just as the plot quickly shifts away from the new collector in
town,Nisheeth (Shetty)out to challenge the mafia man. Karua visits a local
prostitute, (Roopali Krishna Rao, the only decent actress trapped here unfortunately)
who has a heart of gold beneath deeper blouse necklines than yesteryear Bindu’s.
The massacre king turns into
a devoted slave when he is with the ruler of the coalmine township. He sits at
his beloved and trusted God and‘malik’, Surya Bhan Singh’s pedicured feet. Slowly and lovingly, he washes
them in a big tray. Then, carefully, he picks up the tray and drinks the holy
water.
If this kind of filth does
not disgust enough, there is more. Like a woman, stripped, stark naked, wailing
in front of an entire village. Plus some violence in the form of naxalites who
apparently “fall here straight from China” in a badly attempted dialogue
humour. For a dose of some meaningful message thrown in, there is a documentary
within the film, called “Budbak
Bhansali”. Some real faces of the tribals suffering in silence, however, fail
to make Koyelaanchal any more convincing. Just like those pseudo pictures
of ‘real India’ in Facebook travelogues.
The story soon takes a
bizarre turn from the ruthless world to the gentler ones of mothers, little
village girls and babies. From landmine explosives, the sound effects
mercilessly bombard us with shrill baby cries.
Hatred and violence is
replaced with tender, loving Johnson baby care. We even see a baby kissing the
picture of the silent rock monster, Karua.
Incidentally, that’s supposed
to be the most meaningful moment in the film.
The baby at whom Shetty looks dumbfounded,
in the end. His best expression ever.
Because it took him the
entire film’s 2 hours 26 minutes to realize that the baby was the hero, not
him.
No wonder then that Shetty
throws up at one point. So might you.
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