Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna: 'Good-bye' didn't come soon enough

*Cautionary note: This was the film that put me over the edge and prompted me to stop blogging about Hindi films for so long. A previously unpublished post from 2006, read it with 'retrospect' in mind.*

Shah Rukh Khan, Preity Zinta,
Abhishek Bachchan, Rani Mukherji
Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna (2006)
Image: pinkvilla.com

That Karan Johar gives his audience little credit comes shining through in this nearly 4-hour celluloid magnum disappointus.

Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna (dubbed KANK by filmi acronym enthusiasts), does nothing but confirm suspicions that Johar fancies himself a Robert Altman but blatanlty lacks the talent or originality of the senior director.
Relying heavily on his almost incestuous connections with Bollywood luvvies, Johar unsurprisingly reeled in an all-star cast with Shah Rukh Khan, Rani Mukherji, Abhishek Bahchan, and Preity Zinta as the leads, and Amitabh Bachchan, Kirron (that's how she's spelling it these days) Kher, and Arjun Rampal as the supporting cast. Resorting to cliched 'spot the star' cheap thrills, Kajol and John Abraham make brief appearances in two all-thumpy no funky songs.

The story centres around the tumultuous relationships of two not-so-happily married couples, Dev Saran (Khan) and his wife Rhea (note the Americanised spelling here) (Zinta), and Rishi (Bachchan Jr.) and Maya Talwar (Mukherji). To make a much-in-need-of-editing film short, all four characters have certain issues that they can not solve within their respective marriages, leading Dev and Maya to seek solace and comfort in each other.

Seems like an opportunity to delve into the darker side of cotton candy romance, doesn't it? Well it is. Sadly, this movie does not deliver on Johar's loudly asserted promise.

Despite the inordinately long time the film has to let the audience engage with the characters, they appear as little more than cardboard cut-outs throughout.

Dev, a disgruntled former soccer star, remains disgruntled, humourless, and unneccessarily mean to his son Arjun; no real explanation is gleaned as to why Maya constantly feels inaduequate despite her husband's overt attempts at love; Rhea's gung-ho 'all work no play' attitude is taken to extremes presenting her as a one-dimensional working mother; and Rishi who is presented as 'child-like' throughout, really does nothing of the sort. The most unique and believable relationship in the film is the sweet and spunky friendship that develops between Dev's mother, Kamaljit (Kher), and Rishi's father, Sam/Samarjit (Bachchan Sr.). Sadly, the film's treatment of this and the other relationships is as superficial as the glitz in every reel.

The shortcomings are not because the script, largely written by Johar, relies on subtlety--in fact, at times it is so cumbersome that the audience wishes for the opportunity to read between the lines. The script simply does not build on what could have otherwise been a rather meaningful film.

Instead, Johar indiscriminately relies on cliches from his own and mentors Yash and Aditya Chopra's previous celluloid melodramas to weave thin attempts at humour and depth. KANK resembles, in no small measure, a not-so-cheap knock-off of Silsila with a sleeker look. Slight changes to the central plot and the now requisite shift of scene from Bombay to New York common to every second film these days is all the credit Johar can take.

In fact, since Johar so vehemently tried to ward off accusations of what can only be labelled intellectual/artistic property theft, one wonders why two classic scenes from Silsila were left blatantly unedited from the final cut.

I refer to: (1) the hospital scene in Silsila when Rekha presents Ambitabh Bachchan with a bouquet of red roses: 'Khamosh ho ke bhi phool apne rang or khushboo se bahut kuch keh jaate hain' and (2) watching his wife Rekha dance with Bachchan, Sanjay Kumar says to Jaya Bachchan: 'Aise lagta hai ki angrezon ne dancing ka doosre lagon ki biwiyon ke saath naachne ka achchha bahana hai.'

Both scenes are almost identical in KANK, with Abhishek Bahcchan echoing daddy's words 25 years later in response to a red rose he mistakenly assumes Rani Mukherji brought home for him, and Shah Rukh Khan aping Kumar's words but substituting 'dancing' for parties while Bachchan Jr. obliges Preity Zinta in a PR-do.

Back to 'work'

I think the run of some truly mind-numbing films over the last few years took its toll and killed the will to continue with the blog. While the mind-numbing nature of many of the films released over the past four years hasn't changed much, the desire to comment on them has certainly been reignited. Why? I think my anger issues will probably receive a much more enthusiastic response if I comment on the hilarity of the always present white-sari-in-the-rain scenes than on contemplating new ways of using that never-ending piece of fabric for other means.