“Even the Singhams have a social context. In Singham , we see the wish fulfilment of people when they see a superhero fighting politicians or criminals who walk around free. Only, the treatment is different here. Because when you make a film such as Singham that provides ‘wish fulfilment’ against political corruption, it gives people hope. The treatment may be mythical, whereas in Shanghai , it is realistic and intricate. But all our films say that the powerful have become extremely powerful and corrupt.” — Dibakar Banerjee during the release of Shanghai .
This could possibly be the biggest endorsement of a commercial film from a bona fide art-house filmmaker who might have given the loud masala film franchise a little more credit than it deserves, but there’s no denying the basics.
Singham is a larger-than-life hero-worshipping film that gives the masses hope. Even if it uses a stylised mythical treatment, it is telling you the same story that Shanghai did — of how far the rich and the powerful would go to rule.
While there is little room for debate on the story itself, it’s always the storytelling that makes or breaks a film. And strictly within the parameters set by the genre itself, Singham is slow. It lacks the urgency its own background score seems to suggest.
In the good old-fashioned days of film projection, this is the kind of film that would have been edited all over again in the projection room by the local projection guy familiar with audience mood.
The tension drops at several places. The narrative takes itself too seriously to stop and brood. It liberally takes breaks for songs that seem to have a very different mood from the film itself. The punchlines are recycled but thanks to the Devgn charm and charisma, they still work as crowd-pleasers.
This is the kind of film where you are not supposed to question what happened to Singham’s love interest from the first film — Kavya Bhosle (Kajal Agarwal). You must simply accept that he now has a new girlfriend Avni (Kareena Kapoor).
If we are expected to suspend disbelief for such things, why not dispense with the brooding sentimentality as well and get on with the action, drama and war of words.
Since Rohit Shetty wants us to feel the roar of the Singham, the entire film is designed loud and you are likely to come out feeling like a drum that was belted all through the Ganpati festival.
The villains ham it up and Amole Gupte especially seems to be having a fun time playing it way over the top. But it all works given the mythical treatment. He is a demon, a cunning one.
The hero is God-like and there are chants to sanction every bit of killing he does in the film. Because he’s slaying demons, you see. To offset the obvious religious overtones, the cop is shown as a devout believer of secular India, one who protects the minorities and cares for people around him.
There is at least one laugh-out-loud moment for CID fans that’s very cleverly used and you only wish Singham did a lot more of such tongue-in-cheek pop culture referencing instead of taking itself so seriously.
Have no pretensions, Shetty.
Spare us the music in a film that’s all about the sound of fury.
