Vanvaas Movie Review: A struggling Nana Patekar in a confused Anil Sharma film
Vanvaas(1.5 / 5)
It is difficult not to preempt the climax of Anil Sharma’s Vanvaas right after watching its opening hour. The film tells a familiar story of children abandoning their old, helpless parents and how a total stranger fuels a lost sense of hope in them. However, Vanvaas is no Baghban, the sentimental Amitabh Bachchan and Hema Malini starrer, which still had an honesty in its appeal. Here, the emotions are not just underlined, they come circled in red. When the story shifts to Benaras, it has to be reflected through a generic religious song; there are repetitive flashbacks of the protagonist looking back at his life through jarring sequences; a young Nana Patekar lip-syncs awkwardly on a romantic melody and Utkarsh Sharma slips into Benarasi accent without much flair. Its multiple narrative jumps are ridden with a certain desperation to make things work. The disconnect is instantly palpable.
What starts as a love story between middle-aged couples Deepak Tyagi (Nana) and his wife Vimala shifts into a TV soap-like landscape with arrogant children and malicious daughters-in-law. There is a clash over property that belongs to Deepak, who is battling dementia since the death of Vimala. To his children, Somu, Bablu and Chutka, he is a burden. They plan to abandon him in Benaras and declare him dead. Lost in the chaos of the town, a distressed Deepak meets a conman Veeru (Utkarsh), who dupes him of money. Now, the film shows a budding romance between Veeru and his sweetheart Meena (Simratt Kaur Randhawa). It further slips into some lazy action scenes as Deepak is suddenly kidnapped by organ dealers and Veeru comes to save him.
Starring: Nana Patekar, Utkarsh Sharma, Simratt Kaur Randhawa, Kushboo Sundar, Rajpal Yadav, Ashwini Kalsekar
Directed by: Anil Sharma
There’s little restraint in the story and more of a stretched effort to justify character arcs. The love story between Veeru and Meena is connected rather tackily to Deepak’s struggles to reunite him with his family. It also doesn’t help that the film wants us to look at Deepak with an eye of pity and steadfast righteousness. A scene early on has him snapping at a total stranger for disrespecting his dead father while conducting the funeral ritual. The dialogues feel age-old and it doesn’t help that Nana says them with his usual irritant demeanour from his earlier works. Some of it invokes unintended smiles for how sketchy it sounds. Later, at a police station, he lectures a cop on secularism and the duties of a police officer, lending hyper-active energy to his voice. Is this how Nana’s passionate character from Krantiveer (1994) has aged? Unlike Uday Shetty from Welcome (2007), Deepak clearly cannot control himself here.
His performance borders on being too obvious and didactic. The writing doesn’t give him a lot of nuances in order to explore the different facets of a man suffering from memory loss. All that he seems to do is look around with a lost expression on his face as instant flashes of monochrome are juxtaposed together with soppy music. Then there are portions where he talks in detail about global warming, Communism and even Ambedkar, throwing jargon and empty theories. It feels more like an exercise to showcase the actor’s ability to learn lines and deliver them in a concise manner. Utkarsh doesn’t induce a lot of engagement either and seems to lose his pitch, especially in emotional scenes. It is in some of the smaller portions involving Rajpal Yadav, Ashwini Kalsekar and Mushtaq Khan that the film livens up a little. In a genuinely funny scene, Rajpal’s character explains the meaning of a live-in relationship to Maushi, played by Ashwini, describing it as “Bin phere hum tere (Without vows, I am your spouse)”. The songs composed by Mithoon and written by Sayeed Quadri carry a sense of authenticity. However, they are not given the right release through the scenes, thereby shortening their impact.
Vanvaas is a film that exists in the past for its dated sensibilities and themes. Coming back after the massive success of Gadar 2, Anil etches a forgettable tale here. He tries to connect its simplistic dots to the Ramayana through a rather hollow title, which barely reflects the happenings in the film. It is not exactly a far cry from his melodramatic style, seen earlier in a similar family-drama Apne (2007). He seems to confuse overlong for epic, loud for heartfelt and themes for message. There’s little to incite and provoke but more to squirm on the seat and tire away.