Starring: Puneet Singh Ratn, Anaika Soti, Mahesh Thakur
Directed by Ram Gopal Varma
Ram Gopal Varma is as rare a film-maker as they come in these times of auteurial plenitude. Very few filmmakers are so hellbent on spoiling their own legacy as the once-irrepressible, now-incorrigible Varma is. And so, with one Satya 2, he kills two of the finest underworld films that bear his own signature—Satya as well as Company.
Much of the problem stems from the fact that making a film on the Mumbai underworld when it has turned invisible is a bit of a stretch. So RGV spins a far-fetched and utterly confused yarn around the invisibility itself, while at the same time lends it a more pronounced touch of the legend of Robinhood and his merry band. A long voiceover tries hard to spell things out right till the end. Just as in Satya, we have a common man arriving in Mumbai and building a mafia which is supposedly working for the aam aadmi. The covert operation is alternate and anti-system. Its members are not known but they belong to varied fields—from the corporate world to cinema to politics. RGV brings in Chhattisgarh as well, thus imparting a clumsy touch of Naxalism to the Godfather genre. All logic is cruelly bumped off.
All in all, it just adds up to a big yawn. The narrative moves mechanically from one killing to another, one more bloody than the last one. And it’s the same old RGV formula at play: extreme close-ups, odd camera angles, loud soundtrack filled with vague chants and choreographed violence in slow motion. But things get tackier here, especially when he decides to shoot a romantic song in Kashmir, a la Yash Chopra. In Satya and Company he gave us memorable characters like Bhiku Mhatre, Malik and Chandu, besides a powerhouse performer like Manoj Bajpai. Here, he opts for the weakest of lead players he could find. Puneet and Anaita have no personality, character, charisma and certainly no performance skills. The new-age Satya looks geeky, whispers dialogues in a monotonous drawl and maintains an impassive look right till the end. Even when he smiles, it seems that he is doing the audience a favour. I was struck by how he keeps his head tilted on the right side in the Kashmir song and was worried he might get a crick in the neck by the end of it. Anaita looks like the poor man’s Shruti Haasan and keeps biting her lips to project a non-existent sexiness. All these tiny details and individual quirks get magnified on screen because the film itself is unable to hold your interest.
Last week, Krrish claimed it was a ‘thought’. This week, Satya claims his company is a ‘thought’. We would prefer not to subscribe to either of the two schools of thought.