With only Bond/Bourne films to draw inspiration from, it’s not surprising to catch a glimpse of those movies in this Indian sleuth flick.
Where would we be without clichés, archetypes, and prototypes? How would we recreate the same effect as the Bond/Bourne films? These are the sort of questions the crew of Agent Vinod needs to answer. Everything about the film seems to be a rip-off of either a Bond, or a Bourne or even an Ethan Hunt film.
The film begins with Agent Vinod being briefed about 242—hitherto an unknown object, but the gravity with which it is spoken about leaves no doubts in our minds that it is a weapon of mass destruction. Vinod enters his boss’s room, but not without trying to impress his secretary with flawless Japanese (a ‘tribute’ to James Bond and Moneypenny?). He then goes around the world—Russia, Morocco, Pakistan and even London, to stop a nuclear bomb from being detonated in New Delhi. Along the way, he shoots (not sharply), runs (not impressively), wisecracks (not wittingly) and romances (not convincingly). This is where the crux of the problem lies. In an attempt to recreate a desi sleuth with Bond like attributes, the filmmakers mess up both. Neither is Agent Vinod a perfect replica of Bond (so that one can let it pass thinking “Imitation is the best form of flattery”) nor is he an exclusively individualistic identity (so that one can say “Wow, how different from the rest!”). What Sriram Raghavan, the director, ends up doing is taking bits and pieces from many films, and consolidating them, so that from the viewer’s point of view, there’s almost everything that one could expect—a complete package, so to say, which has some skin show, some mafia type characters, a terrorist hell bent on destroying the nation, and a love interest of the spy.
So far, so mediocre. Post intermission, I was waiting for some hardcore action to make up for the insipidness of the first half. But here too, I was only mildly impressed. The usual referencing to the enemy across the fence, and how both nations want peace, just that a few elements would prefer otherwise (this was thankfully subtly stated, not in the chest-thumping jingoistic fashion of Sunny Deol) finds its place. In the second half, we also find out more about Kareena’s character, again a stereotyped, damsel in distress, who is at the wrong place at the wrong time, and is looking to be redeemed by Agent Vinod. Through a series of chases and one-versus-many fights, it finally dawns on us that 242, the “something” that Agent Vinod is after, is actually a nuclear bomb. But that’s hardly a surprise. The ‘surprise’ that Raghavan plants for us is that the attack wasn’t tailored by a terrorist group, but by a businessman, a sort of a war-profiteer, who sends his man to detonate the bomb (it was impossible for me to not think of Le Chiffre and his henchman in Casino Royale). The film ends with Agent Vinod successfully diffusing the bomb, not without the usual drama in which the bomb is diffused only a few seconds before it is about to explode.
For the ones who watch fewer films, perhaps this might be a mildly rewarding experience; after all, the film does have some picturesque shots of Morocco. But a seasoned film watcher would immediately realise that a very similar expanse of Tangiers was shown in the Bourne franchise too.
To my mind, a better Agent Vinod could have been made if the director had steered clear of all the stereotypes and clichés. People who are actually in the field of counter intelligence (like a classmate of mine) tell me that the life of a ‘spy’ is rather boring. The only ‘action’ that happens, happens in bits and pieces, and not very regularly. Perhaps this could have been a fine premise for the film—a crude, raw story line, where the sleuth is not very different from a regular policeman (and he doesn’t wear a tuxedo). But then, who’s to say? Saif maintains his verve and suave, and another name is added to the already long list of charming spies. He asks for chilled beer while being held at a gunpoint, he speaks shudh Hindi (but grammatically incorrect) after saving a foreign looking risqué woman, in fact he does everything that one would have expected him to do. Had there been an element of surprise in the portrayal, I’d have enjoyed it. Same with Kareena—the only saving grace is her mujra, which choreographers have criticised for being unauthentic.
For me, the film didn’t work at all. I have seen all Bond and Bourne films, and all the MI films too, so I was expecting something better, or something different. But for what it’s worth, while exiting that cinema hall, I heard a couple chatter: “It wasn’t that great”. That should say it all.
Film Freak is an exclusive monthly column by Yayaati Joshi, who, well, is a film freak. Going forward, it will feature movie reviews and essays on various aspects of Indian and world cinema.
Yayaati Joshi is a man with simple tastes and intense beliefs. Contrary to the bling associated with the capital city, he prefers the company of close friends, an engaging book or an Alfred Hitchcock movie. His placid demeanour is often mistaken for reticence; Yayaati is a self- proclaimed loner, whose recent pursuits include his foray as a budding writer. Yayaati blogs at http://rantingsofadelusionalmind.wordpress.com
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