Pukar (2000)
Starring: Anil Kapoor, Madhuri Dixit, Namrata Shirodkar
Director: Rajkumar Santoshi
Synopsis: Resoundingly offensive and contemptuous
Reviewed by: Omar Khan

 

Pukar finally arrived after years of delays, but with enormous fanfare thanks to the formidable talent assembled behind it. Producer Boney Kapoor, one of Bollywood's heavyweight showmen, joined forces with Rajkumar Santoshi, the director responsible for Ghayal and Damini. Heading the cast were Anil Kapoor and the then-reigning Queen of Bollywood, Madhuri Dixit.

The music was entrusted to A.R. Rahman, by then the hottest composer in Indian cinema and a man commanding fees that often eclipsed those of the leading actors themselves.

Sadly, all that talent is squandered on a film whose politics belong to the ugliest days of the Cold War. Pukar embraces the kind of crude nationalist rhetoric that reduces an immensely complicated conflict into the most simplistic good-versus-evil fairy tale imaginable.

The Pakistanis are portrayed as rabid fanatics with an insatiable appetite for Indian blood, while the Indians are presented as humanity's moral guardians, glowing with virtue and righteousness. The political realities of Kashmir and the Indo-Pak conflict are conveniently discarded. In Santoshi's universe the equation is breathtakingly simple: Indian equals good; Pakistani equals evil.

Nuance need not apply.

Anil Kapoor plays Major Jaidev, an all-conquering, morally impeccable, fiercely patriotic soldier who exists largely to foil the wicked schemes of the villainous Pakistani agent Abroosh. Just as Jaidev is about to capture his nemesis, a traitor tips off the enemy and Abroosh escapes to menace India another day.

Running alongside this is a romantic subplot that never quite decides whether it is the heart of the story or merely an interruption to it. Anjali (Madhuri Dixit) is hopelessly in love with Jaidev, who instead falls for the sweet and cheerful Pooja (Namrata Shirodkar). Spurned, Anjali allows jealousy to consume her and eventually becomes an unwitting pawn in the hands of anti-national conspirators.

Jaidev is disgraced, stripped of his uniform and his honour, while Pooja conveniently disappears to Australia. Having achieved precisely the chaos she never intended, Anjali abruptly transforms herself into the deceived damsel in distress, pleading innocence with admirable conviction. Meanwhile Abroosh continues to spew venomous dialogue while slaughtering unfortunate Indians whenever the screenplay requires another reminder of his irredeemable wickedness.

The film then staggers towards its inevitable conclusion, having spent the better part of three hours attempting to inflame nationalist passions rather than tell a compelling story.

Political objections aside, Pukar simply does not work.

As a thriller it lacks tension.

As a romance it lacks emotional conviction.

As a drama about terrorism it lacks credibility.

Santoshi attempts to juggle all three genres simultaneously but succeeds in satisfying none of them.

The music is probably the least offensive aspect of the entire production, although even Rahman's score struggles to lift such heavy-handed material.

What ultimately makes Pukar so disappointing is not merely its politics but its willingness to exploit hatred as entertainment. Some of the dialogue is genuinely unpleasant, reducing a complex and tragic conflict to crude slogans and cartoon villains. Even propaganda films are expected to display some intelligence.

This one does not.

The film is likely to be remembered less for its performances or technical achievements than for the extraordinary lengths it goes to in order to pander to the lowest nationalist instincts of its audience.

A thoroughly offensive and deeply contemptible piece of filmmaking.

Even my original rating of 3% now feels rather generous.

Perhaps it should have been retitled Puke-ar.