Movie Review - David - Page 2

This is a story of three cool men. Cool because the first one, an impeccably distressed looking fisherman, drags fish out of water much like how Salman Khan pulls out limbs in Dabangg-type films. The second – a yuppy, scrawny guitar player – has hair full of hippie braids which look heavier than the guy himself. And the last, is the first chapter in the bible of Hollywood cool – an assassin in a tux. All these men are called David – the fisherman in Goa, the rookie guitarist in '90s Mumbai and the seasoned assassin in '70s London. And apparently, their fates are all tied to that name – David.

Now, since this is not a Bhatt film you don't expect a ghost, a tragic, wronged-in-life ghost, called David to hunt down all his namesakes in empty bathrooms and dark bedrooms. Since this is not a neo-Karan Johar film, you don't expect a tearjerker on the politics of the name David. The problem with David is, you walk into the theatre waylaid by the fancy oh-so-noir promos, the guns firing in slo-mo, exquisitely black and white figures running down stairs and across patios in slo-mo, rain drops falling in slo-mo, pretty girls in frocks dancing in slo-mo.

You expect all of that to add up to something gut wrenching, something more stunning than the tux on Neil Nitish Mukesh, something more disturbing than a waif-like Monica Dogra in wedding finery running maniacally to the hero standing by an opulent French window. Only, in Bejoy Nambiar's second film after Shaitaan – they don't. And probably the pithiest line in the film, that, I presume, is supposed to explain it all goes like this: "Peter kabhi David nahin ban sakta."

The story starts off like this. David, a rabble rousing, alcoholic Goan fisherman played by Vikram falls in love with Roma, his friend's fiancee. This happens in 2010. David, a sharp-shooter, an assassin loyal to a Muslim businessman in London, suspects that his godfather and his mother might have had more than just a formal relationship. This in 1975. And David, a young, hippie musician is just about to leave for the US when some Hindu fanatics attack his pious, harmless father who is a Christian priest.

The film, you presume, is about how their fates or paths cross. But that is also what Nambiar doesn't hint throughout the nearly-three hour run time of the film and tries saving the best for the last. Only that – the answer to why we are watching a David trilogy, not a Kevin, Peter, Tom Cruise one – is as limp as the climaxes of CID-type who-dunnits.

Nambiar is a good choreographer. Here, I use the word choreographer judiciously. Because David, is great choreography – from how Vikram shuffles around drunk to how Neil, in his black suit glory walks down with a Muharrum procession. Back-and-forth narrative, cunning camera angles, trippy music. People flirt in style, cry in style, even drop dead in style.

Only it doesn't help that a cold, crazy killer like Neil's character speaks in a voice best suited to a Bhajan singer – even when he wants to know if his foster father was sleeping with his mother. It doesn't help that Monica Dogra speaks Hindi uncannily like Katrina Kaif does in Rajneeti. It doesn't help that the director gives no clue why a bunch of Hindu fanatics attack a priest – the dirty, swirling politics behind it is left for us to assume. It doesn't help that a blood boiled punk, screws up his face, clenches his fist and grimaces in true filmi revenge tradition to ask – Mujhe jawab chahiye! Yes, and here you're not watching a Ram Gopal Verma film where people get beaten up as a pastime.

David, the film, lacks the passion its music has. It's only that smart – in that it can cover up how foolish it is for almost half its run-time.

There's something about filmmaker Bejoy Nambiar and song sequences. In his debut film,Shaitan, Nambiar put together an ambitious action set-piece involving a gunfight between two Mumbai cops and gangsters, while a remix version of Khoya khoya chand played havoc in the background. In David, his second film, at least two song sequences stand out spectacularly. Here too, Nambiar combines action with music.

One scene has David (Vikram) get into a bar fight with fellow-Goans as Remo Fernandes' tuneful Maria pitache plays along. The other has two men battling it out in a cage-fight in ultra slo-mo, while a version of Damadam mast kalandar plays loud. David has a few such smartly-executed scenes that stand out for their individual brilliance. Sadly though, the film doesn't quite come together as a whole.

Nambiar uses an interesting plot device – narrating three distinct stories in different time zones, the only apparent connection between them being the name of the main protagonist: David. In 1975, a London-based gangster is faced with the dilemma of going up against his mentor and father-figure, the dreaded Ghani. In 1999, a young musician in Mumbai is trying to deal with his father – a priest – getting dragged into a politically-motivated communal spat. The 2010 story is the most different in tone and theme among the three – a 40-year-old alcoholic fisherman in Goa is on the lookout for true love.

Like he did in his first film, Nambiar displays flair and style, and makes it apparent that he's a filmmaker who's very assured of his craft. He makes optimum use of some deft camerawork (the 1975 sequences, especially, are shot with distinct charm by Sanu Varghese) and the ability to pick the right actors for most parts. His use of sound is noteworthy too.

But the director's good intentions apart, David is an arduous watch, and that's largely due to the inability of the three stories to hold your attention for too long, individually and together. Screenwriters Nambiar and Natasha Sehgal struggle to keep you engaged in a manner that you move from one story to another without losing interest in the earlier story by the time the current one's through. The 1975 episode is the best of the lot; it's a more straightforward story than the other two, and everything seems to come together neatly in this one: the acting (Akarsh Khurana is superb as Ghani), the mood and the narrative style.

The 1999 chapter is shabbily put-together even though it has the most interesting story of the three. Vinay Virmani, the David in this story, can't quite pull off the role and an underdeveloped sub-track with one of his music students – a much older woman – only adds to the flab. The third story is bizarre, and benefits greatly from the charm and presence of its protagonist, played by Tamil film star Vikram, and Tabu.

The thing that bothers you most while watching David is that just when you get intermittently involved, the focus shifts. May be an episodic approach, like the one in Yuva, would have worked, but even then the 1999 and 2010 chapters don't have enough meat to work as stand-alone stories. A tighter script, and some judicious editing, may have helped.

Towards the end, you hope for the film to tie up together neatly, but the finale is a let-down. Which is a pity, given that David had the potential to be three great films in one. Instead, it ends up being only half of what it promised.