Director Zoya Akhtar's debut "Luck by Chance" was a perfect film. Without a single thing amiss, the clear-eyed unsentimental tale of a couple of strugglers in the Hindi film industry stayed with me for days. Of course, there was some irony that a child of privilege with access to Hindi cinema's biggest and brightest talents should make a film about newcomers scrambling for their lucky break: Zoya is the daughter of screenplay writer/lyricist/poet Javed Akhtar and his former wife Honey Irani. Her stepmother—known internationally—is Shabana Azmi; her brother Farhan Akhtar—a successful director—made another foray into acting in Zoya's film, and the slew of boldface names in cameos announced that this was no ordinary debut. But one can hardly fault her for the accident of birth; what was noteworthy was that she put her connections to excellent use and crafted a truly fine film.
I couldn't wait to see her sophomore effort: "Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara", which I enjoyed much as one might a mousse au chocolat. It was tasty and fattening and very good to look at. I'm still pondering whether it has any major cinematic merit. My friends and I agreed that it was very much an NRI-friendly film: most of the action takes place in a breathtakingly beautifully-photographed Spain, with a few scenes in London. The characters speak English for the most part, along with sporadic bursts of flawless Spanish and Japanese, and the occasional lapse into Hindi.
ZNMD could also be looked at as the armchair sociologist's handbook on the complex mating rituals of the rich and gorgeous. The cast, without exception, is privileged, affluent, and beautiful; their major problems in life would make a Mumbaikar or Delhi-ite burst into derisive laughter. In fact, if a dehati (villager) were to see the film, he might scratch his head in befuddlement and wonder what the hoopla was about. From his point of view, these folks had hit the jackpot, but the ingrates persisted in whining. Still, even the rich have problems which cause them enough angst to require much soulful gazing at Spanish oceans at sunset, and conscientious filmmakers owe it to them to handle them with sensitivity, good lighting, and hypoallergenic makeup.
With this film, Zoya Akhtar appears to have joined the ranks of the School of Aspirational Filmmaking. Its foremost proponents are Karan Johar and 99% of the directors ever employed by Yash Raj Films. Their films—set predominantly in foreign countries—are made for the new consumerist India. Their characters are upwardly mobile non-resident Indians, and the message to every brown person seems to be: you, too, can escape India's shores and live in a 50,000 square foot mansion on a fifty-acre estate in the country of your choice, drive fast cars (or a beaut of a vintage one, as here) and romance impossibly beautiful chiffon saree-clad damsels. How is never addressed.
ZNMD has a surfeit of good taste; Zoya's cast—all beautiful—lives abroad in chic monochromatic minimalist apartments, is multi-lingual, dresses impeccably, and can tell the varietal and vintage of a wine from the merest whiff of its cork. The slim story line concerns three college buddies who set out on the bachelor trip to end all bachelor trips. They had intended to take this vacation four years earlier, but two of the friends had a spat and the scars remain. Now one of the trio is getting married and the other two must give in to his emotional plea to resurrect their foreign travel plans. So off they go to Spain in all its sun-drenched glory. They run into Laila (Katrina Kaif), an athletic diving instructor, who stays on for most of the trip. This is the first film for me in which Katrina Kaif did not jar; she plays a mixed-race woman—half American, half Indian. She speaks English most of the time, some Spanish, and a few words of accented Hindi, but it works here, and she exudes well-being and sportiness. Perhaps from now on, anyone looking to cast her believably should make her a person of mixed ethnicity with only a smattering of Hindi. But wait—isn't that all she has played for the past dozen years? Surely, you'd think she'd want to grow as an actor and add to her skill set by learning Hindi properly, and taking some diction and acting lessons. Maybe her cynical response is I'm doing very well without any of that, so why bother? And everyone agrees she's punctual and professional
Hrithik, after a long time, is not doing all the heavy lifting. He has two buddies for company, and it's a pleasant change seeing him as just one of the guys. The sun glints off his highlights as he strives to achieve optimum work-life balance, dances with game senoritas, and gets drunk with his amigos. Abhay Deol is not as well-muscled but he does some appealing work, wrestling with the dilemma of the perfect girlfriend fast morphing into a harridan fiancée. Farhan Akhtar's character, once again, is glib and a bit of an asshole, and tosses off bon mots with a studied insouciance. He, too, needs to broaden his range. We've seen him do this shtick in "Rock On" and "Luck By Chance", with minor changes of shading in the undeservedly little-seen "Kartik Calling Kartik". Kalki Koechlin is pretty and funny as she makes the most of a small role. Naseeruddin Shah is pure gold in his cameo, speaking harsh truths with sympathy. Deepti Naval, too, is lovely in her two small scenes.
Zoya has her cast articulate some admirable sentiments: Carpe diem; face your fears; follow your bliss, but it all passes by in an inconsequential, golden haze. So you won't waste time or money watching this movie, but you're not likely to remember it the following week or even perhaps the following day. For Zoya Akhtar's sake, I wish this film every success, for it will enable her future films that will, hopefully, have significant things to say.
