Viruddh (2005)
Cast: Amitabh Bachchan, Sharmila Tagore, John Abraham Anusha Dandekar
Director: Mahesh Manjrekar
Music Director: -------
Synopsis: Potentially excellent film is let down by a dull script and sluggish pacing
Reviewed by: Faiz Khan

 

Viruddh begins with remarkable simplicity.

Vidyadhar Patwardhan (Amitabh Bachchan) and his wife Sumitra (Sharmila Tagore) are retired, living a quiet and contented existence where life's greatest excitement is the weekly telephone call from their only son Amar (John Abraham), who now lives abroad. Their days are punctuated by affectionate banter, gentle teasing and the easy companionship that only decades of marriage can produce.

Mahesh Manjrekar spends considerable time simply allowing us to live with them.

Normally, one would complain that very little happens.

Here, however, that is precisely the point.

The ordinariness of their lives becomes their greatest strength.

Amar eventually returns home, accompanied by his rather half-baked foreign girlfriend (Anusha Dandekar), and for a brief moment the family feels complete.

Then, on the eve of Amar's birthday, everything changes.

Witnessing a violent crime, Amar attempts to help and is brutally murdered.

The silence that follows is almost tangible.

To Manjrekar's credit, he avoids descending into melodrama. Rather than collapsing beneath the weight of their grief, Vidyadhar and Sumitra remain united, quietly supporting one another through unimaginable loss.

Unfortunately, justice proves far more elusive.

Corrupt politicians and pliable policemen conspire to paint Amar as a drug dealer whose death was merely the consequence of his criminal lifestyle rather than the result of witnessing the crimes of a politician's son. With the system determined to destroy both their son's reputation and any hope of justice, Vidyadhar eventually decides to take matters into his own hands.

Sadly, this is where the film begins to unravel.

When Vidyadhar arms himself and heads towards a final confrontation, one can scarcely believe how far the screenplay has drifted from the quiet, intimate drama with which it began. The emotional truth established during the opening hour is sacrificed in favour of a contrived climax that belongs in an entirely different film.

That is Viruddh's greatest disappointment.

The material cries out to become a powerful study of grief, dignity and institutional corruption. Instead, it settles for a conventional revenge drama whose resolution feels hurried, clichéd and dramatically unsatisfying.

The first half is admittedly overextended. While the domestic scenes possess warmth and charm, Manjrekar indulges them for rather too long. Amar's death should have provided the platform from which the narrative gathered real emotional momentum.

Instead, the screenplay simply loses its way.

It is the familiar story of corruption, dishonest politicians and a broken legal system, but without offering any fresh perspective or particularly convincing resolution. By the conclusion, the emotional power painstakingly accumulated earlier has largely evaporated.

Manjrekar is therefore less betrayed by his direction than by his screenplay. The seed of a genuinely moving film is clearly present, but once planted it never develops into the powerful drama it promises to become. Even without the usual barrage of songs, the sluggish pacing makes the film feel considerably longer than its running time.

Fortunately, the performances are of an altogether higher standard.

Amitabh Bachchan is magnificent.

In the autumn of his career he seems only to grow stronger with every performance. Vidyadhar is a quiet, restrained creation built not upon dramatic speeches but upon dignity, wounded pride and simmering grief. Bachchan conveys all of this with remarkable economy, proving once again why he remains unmatched.

Sharmila Tagore makes a most welcome return after the unfortunate Mann. There are no histrionics here, no overwrought emotional breakdowns, merely a beautifully understated portrayal of a wife and mother holding herself together through immense personal tragedy. It is a graceful, deeply moving performance.

John Abraham brings an easy charm to Amar despite his limited screen time, making his loss genuinely felt. Anusha Dandekar fits comfortably into the role without ever becoming especially memorable.

Sanjay Dutt, meanwhile, is criminally underused.

His brief appearance as Ali the mechanic injects warmth and humanity into the film and almost leaves a greater impression than characters with far more screen time. One cannot help wishing Manjrekar had found more for him to do.

Viruddh begins as an affecting portrait of family, love and quiet domestic happiness before gradually abandoning those strengths for an ordinary revenge story that never lives up to its promise.

What ultimately survives is not the screenplay but the performances—particularly those of Amitabh Bachchan and Sharmila Tagore—whose sincerity almost rescues a film that continually threatens to become something special but never quite gets there.

A major disappointment, made worthwhile only by actors who deserved a far better script.