Subhash K. Jha analyses Kaafila
By:
Subhash
K.
Jha,
IndiaFM
Tuesday,
August
14,
2007
Marooned
on
a
beach
(that
looks
suspiciously
like
Juhu)
after
a
ship
sinks
following
an
hybridized
arabesque-western
item
song
(maybe
it
couldn't
take
the
weight
of
the
waist
from
the
east?)
the
stunned-seeming
surviors
of
this
whip
wrecked
drama
of
the
damned,
look
around
askance
wondering
what
to
do
next.
Only God and the creators of this ham-handed homage to hysteria know why Kaafila got on to celluloid.
You need nerves of steel to sit through 3 hours of this nauseous and numbing migrants' journey from illicit travel to Indo-Pak camaraderie and final home-coming, all done in the spirit of a patriotic play staged at the village sarpanch's grandson's naming ceremony. You name it, Kaafila has got it....Every fetid formula from the Book Of Wreck-Olds is dumped into this voyage of the damned.
Says one of the many smirking villains about super-hero Sunny Deol. "He can stop a ship from sinking."
But Sunny, wearing sunglasses in key dramatic scenes probably to hide his embarrassment at the company he quips, can certainly not stop this leaky ship from sinking. Kaafila is one of those nobly-intended disasters about a burning issue that cooks itself up into an indigestible charcoal mess. It could easily qualify as the worst film of the year, if not the decade.
There are scores and scores of ungainly hammy actors shouting, crying, smirking, laughing and dancing on the (leaky) ship as though the clouds had just decided to burst havoc on the pages that were meant to hold the screenplay.
The plot screams for a semblance of maturity in handling the theme of a big bunch of illegal migrants making their way into England through Russia and Afghanistan. There's no dearth of the great wide outdoors in this despicable disaster. Ammtoje Mann's direction, perpertually perched on a high-octave hoarse, takes us through some eye-catching locales in Russia and Afghanistan and we even get a glimpse of crowded Rawalpindi towards the end when the narrative and we have been driven completely around the bend.
Mann the director heads the cast, as a moping lover-boy pining for his lost love. Sunny Deol joins the ragged traveler's midway. He too pines for lost love,his anglo-saxon love interest being the most eye-catching entity in this film swarming with characters who scream and sing to make themselves heard over the din of damnation that underlines the project.
In one word Kaafila is unbearable. In two words, it's unbearably sanctimonious, with the crackling caravan of characters constantly breaking into rhetorical debates on the pros and cons of the brain drain.
The
true
brain
drain
lies
in
putting
together
this
pastiche
of
parodic
passion
where
the
anguish
of
the
characters
is
completely
overshadowed
by
the
desperation
of
the
audience
to
get
out
of
the
hellish
hijinks
of
a
journey
that
takes
the
characters
from
the
villages
of
Punjab
to
the
frozen
snowscape
of
lands
where
this
film
should
be
buried.