By:
Subhash
K.
Jha,
IndiaFM
Wednesday,
October
03,
2007
Some
films
exude
a
cultivated
cool.
Others
are
born
with
it.
Sriram
Raghvan's
second
far
more
accomplished,
film
belongs
to
the
category
of
naturally
cool.
Simmering
with
an
urbane
discontent
and
exerting
an
anxious
but
never
deliberate
debate
on
the
power
of
money
to
dominate
morality,
Johnny
Gaddaar
is
a
homage
to
many
things.
It's
a
tribute
to
R.
K.
Narayan
(in
her
opening
sequence
Rimi
Sen
is
caught
reading
Narayan's
Guide),
James
Hadley
Chase,
Jyoti
Swaroop's
Parwana,
Vijay
Anand's
Johnny
Mera
Naam,
Sooraj
Barjatya,
and
Ram
Gopal
Varma.
You
name
hit!
And
by
the
way
Johnny
Gaddaar
is
also
a
homage
to
Bimal
Roy,
Gulzar
and
Lata
Mangeshkar.
Dharmendra's
dead
wife
sings
Mora
gora
ang
from
Roy's
Bandini
on
the
tape
even
as
life
oozes
out
of
his
kind
soul.
Blood
finds
its
own
level
in
an
austere
pool
of
tears
in
this
relentlessly
rigorous
take
on
the
wages
of
crime
and
the
evil
men
do
to
their
conscience
for
the
sake
of
money.
Hamletian
in
tone
and
utterly
liberated
from
the
artifice
that
often
underlines
noire
films
from
Bollywood,
Johnny
Gaddaar
is
a
feast
of
febrile
fury
harnessed
to
cleverly
admit
a
kind
of
harsh
light
that
falls
on
the
soul
under
acquisitive
pressure.
It's
also
a
cunningly
noire-ish
homage
to
some
of
the
most
sizzling
film
songs
of
the
1970s
including
Rama
rama
ghazab
hui
gawa
re
(Jugnu)
and
Bachke
kahan
jaoge
(Yakeen)
all
remixed
by
Vishal-Shekhar
with
sly
synergy
to
denote
the
power
of
music
as
a
purveyor
of
a
cinematic
liberation
that
comes
naturally
to
a
creator
who
isn't
anxious
about
the
box-office.
Sometimes
a
film
goes
way
beyond
its
prescribed
genre
in
search
of
a
kind
of
cinematic
nirvana
that
is
as
tough
to
achieve
as
it
is
for
the
audience
to
accept.
Sriram
Raghavan's
tutorship
in
the
Ram
Gopal
Varma
school
of
filmmaking
has
served
him
well.
He
does
away
with
all
the
surface
humbug
of
the
noire
genre,
and
comes
up
with
a
work
that's
original
in
thought,
super-original
in
execution
and
always
a
step
ahead
of
the
audiences'
expectations.
As
the
masters
of
the
noire-gangster
genre
like
Quentin
Tarantino
and
Coen
Brothers
have
shown,
visual
appeal
is
as
vital
to
the
life
and
breadth
of
such
films
as
the
intricate
plot
manoeuverings
that
create
the
perfect
synthesis
of
suspense
and
nemesis.
Sriram
makes
surprisingly
sparse
use
of
technical
panache.
Less
is
always
more
for
this
gloriously
articulate
filmmaker
whose
appetite
for
detailing
is
immense.
Watch
the
sequence
in
the
train
just
before
Daya
Shetty
is
murdered.
The
old
lady
sharing
the
compartment
with
the
man
who's
about
to
die
lends
a
crucial
character-credence
to
the
plot.
Yup,
Hitchcock
would
approve.
Though
I'm
not
too
sure
of
Ram
Gopal
Varma.
The
contours
of
the
narration
are
flexible
yet
firm,
as
a
young
gangster
Vikram
(debutant
Neil
Mukesh
Mathur)
tries
to
break
from
a
life
of
crime…but
only
one
after
one
hectic
hurrah
of
carefully-planned
betrayal
that
leaves
Vikram's
guru
(Dharmendra,
sincere
but
getting
the
timing
wrong)
dead
on
the
floor
and
his
conscience
writhing
uneasily
on
the
dance
floor.
Neil
Mukesh
plays
the
amoral
Romeo
with
icy
steadfastness,
going
from
betrayal
to
betrayal,
his
eyes
not
giving
away
anything.
It's
a
brave
and
thoroughly
unconventional
debut
for
this
engaging
actor.
Young
Mukesh
sinks
his
teeth
into
the
complex
character
with
the
focused
intensity
of
a
spiritually
secure
carnivore.
The
rest
of
the
performances
range
from
the
extraordinary
to
the
exceptional.
Vinay
Pathak's
dexterity
with
the
cards
in
the
gambling
scenes
are
matched
by
Zakir
Hussain's
power
to
create
dilemma
out
of
treachery.
And
falling
quite
comfortably
in
the
extraordinary
category
is
Ashwini
Kalsekar
as
Vinay
Pathak's
wife.
Though
the
character
derives
inspiration
from
Shefali
Shah
in
Ram
Gopal
Varma's
Satya,
Kaswekar
gives
it
her
own
interpretation.
Watch
her
closely
when
she
tells
her
husband's
murderer
(not
knowing
it's
he
whodunit),
"What
will
I
tell
Chikoo(their
daughter)
when
I
go
home?"
The
emotions
are
kept
at
a
low
premium.
But
when
they
occur
they
remind
us
of
how
far
materialism
has
taken
the
humanism
in
the
race
to
mortality.
Johnny
Gaddar
isn"t
outstanding
in
the
context
of
how
far
it
takes
the
gangster-noire
genre.
But
in
narrating
the
underbelly
of
betrayal
in
a
language
that's
calm
controlled
and
constantly
compelling,
Sriram
Raghavan
work
is
next
to
none.
Quite
simply
–or
not
so
simply--
one
of
the
most
gripping
tales
of
crime
and
retribution,
Johnny
Gaddaar,
calls
the
bluff
of
Bluff
Master
and
all
the
other
recent
'cool'
hip-hop
crime-time
capers
that
have
hit
Bollywood.