Lakeer (2004)
Cast: Sunny Deol, Suneil Shetty, Sohail Khan, John Abraham, Nauheed Cyrusi
Director: Ahmed Khan
Music Director: A.R. Rahman
Synopsis: An excruciating ordeal of a film - three hours of pain - avoid at all costs!
Reviewed by: Faiz Khan

 

Two former choreographers make their directorial debuts this year: Farah Khan with Main Hoon Na and Ahmed Khan with Lakeer. Both films have arrived within three weeks of each other and, while it may not be entirely fair to compare them, Main Hoon Na feels like Mother India beside this pitiable excuse for a film.

As if the ridiculous subtitle “Forbidden Lines” were not enough, the film then proceeds to take the audience on a three-hour torture run, leaving the mind reeling as to why anyone would have wanted to make such a thing in the first place.

The film opens with a voice-over introducing the principal characters. At the centre is Arjun Rana (Sunny Deol), an orphan who was picked up from the streets by a kindly don known as Baba and later inherited his mantle after Baba’s death. Baba also had a son, Karan (Sohail Khan), whom Arjun adores like a younger brother. To complicate matters further, there is the impish Bindya (Nauheed Cyrusi), our own Little Orphan Annie, also brought into the household by Arjun after her father sacrificed his life for Baba. Bindya calls Arjun “Bhaiyya”, but no such fraternal affection is extended towards Karan. It hardly takes a genius to work out what is about to develop—or fail to develop, as the case may be.

On the other side we have motor mechanic Sanju (Suniel Shetty), who idolises Arjun Rana and his magnificent gold Rolls-Royce. He too has a beloved younger brother, Saahil (John Abraham), and naturally Saahil, Karan and Bindya all attend the same college.

The first forty minutes are littered with song after song, including Little Orphan Annie dressed as a cheerleader, enthusiastically supporting the college basketball team and apparently alluring nobody except Saahil, who falls for her hook, line and sinker. Ahmed Khan’s background as a choreographer comes to the fore, with armies of dancers crowding every frame of one jaded number after another, while the story crawls at a snail’s pace towards its utterly predictable premise. Both younger brothers fall for the impish beauty and the stage is set for conflict.

Karan warns Saahil to stay away from Bindya. Saahil, in a fit of frustration, proceeds to demolish his own home and reduce himself to a pulp, prompting elder brother Sanju to retaliate by beating up Karan. Arjun Rana then enters the fray and suddenly we are expected to ponder questions of loyalty, justice and brotherhood. Meanwhile, our impish heroine, having given her heart to Saahil, spends much of her time simpering in the background and looking terrified of everyone around her.

The interval provides a few merciful moments of relief before we are plunged straight back into the quarrel over Bindya. After much yawning, considerable tedium and endless posturing, we are finally treated to the obligatory death scene and a prolonged sermon from the righteous Arjun Rana before the film staggers towards its conclusion.

Lakeer is an unmitigated disaster, a film which numbs the senses and bores the life out of the audience. Ahmed Khan has both written and directed the film, leaving one to wonder what exactly he saw on paper that persuaded him it deserved to be made. He has no command of the medium and merely strings together a series of dull scenes populated by cardboard characters and driven by a lifeless screenplay.

The sets are grotesque, garish and hopelessly overdone. Ahmed Khan occasionally attempts to dazzle with striking visuals, but attractive imagery alone does not make a film. I recall one particularly ludicrous song, “Shehzaade”, in which Karan stands against an impressive seafront backdrop while desks, beds and assorted furniture suddenly begin raining down around him. It provides the clearest indication of the director’s priorities: if something looks unusual, throw it into the frame, whether it has any meaning or not. Sadly, very little in Lakeer looks good anyway. Even the choreography is repetitive, stale and completely devoid of freshness.

Sunny Deol is simply embarrassing and gives what must surely be one of his weakest performances in years. Suniel Shetty has very little to do and consequently makes little impression. Sohail Khan is wooden, while John Abraham, whenever he restrains himself, has one or two reasonable moments and is probably the best of the lot—which is hardly saying very much. Nauheed Cyrusi would be well advised to return to baby-soap advertisements.

The crowning glory, however, is A.R. Rahman’s music, if it can be called that. The score is so poor that it ought to be a major embarrassment to him.

I still have no idea what “Forbidden Lines” is supposed to mean. The film offers no explanation, and debating the phrase may actually be the most interesting activity connected with the entire production. Does it refer to the divide between rich and poor? To the foster-brother and orphan-Annie connection? Ponder it as much as you like; the film will provide no answers.

A horrendous ordeal. Ahmed Khan should return to choreography immediately, although judging by the work on display here, even that may require his urgent attention.