Sense and Senility

Cinematic homage to an angry young man delivered by a rather uppity old man. 

If there is an unabashed practitioner of the multi-ingredient masala method of making films it has to be Puri Jagannadh. Therefore it comes as no surprise that when assembling a tribute to the aura of the original angry young man he comes up with Bbuddha Hoga Tera Baap. Every moment that Bachchan is on screen, save a tender moment toward the end, is an opportunity to emphasize his virility and larger than life stature. Every detail of the film is in service of the Big Bachchan identity and the era that cemented his stardom. The large lapels, silk shawls, floral patterns and boots are all back in full force. Two popular numbers of the age, Don’s Paan Banaraswala and Yaarana’s Saara Zamaana, have been remixed and placed to trigger aural memories. These armaments, Puri assumes, are sufficient to buoy the story of a retired but still potent hitman named Viju (played by who else but Bachhan himself) returning to Mumbai – the city where he earned his stripes, learnt his lessons and lost his family.

We’ve even met most of the characters decades ago – an extremely religious single mother, a conscientious cop, callous criminals and fashionably adorned romantic interests. Prakashraj takes over villain duties in the absence of the formidable Ajit. With gangster haven regulars like Bob Christo and Mac Mohan retiring to the great beyond, Makarand Deshpande (also named Mac) and familiar faces from Puri’s Telugu ventures like Pokiri fill in sundry gang member roles. Sonu Sood, the only other person with sizeable screen time, is obviously cast as a throwback to the cops once played by Bachchan himself. The film even establishes its notions of romance firmly in favor of the early eighties. It is the ‘dream girl’ Hema Malini who truly has the heart of the leading man in this film, not the oomph girl of the nineties – Raveena. If one bemoans the passing of the tried and tested tropes of the early eighties Hindi film, then Bbuddha Hoga Tera Baap is your own personal Easter.

But what of those of us who loved fell in love with Bachchan’s angry young man for entirely different reasons? Puri Jagannadh’s film offers little for those of us who preferred the silent strength he embodied in Shakti. Now, suggestive background music clouds the reticently used baritone and designer sunglasses mask the smoldering anger in those eyes. Bbuddha Hoga Tera Baap is a tribute to only a few of the affectations that made the Big B a star and is, therefore, a slight let down.

P.S: An edited version of this piece appeared in yesterday's City Express supplement of the New Indian Express. Link.