
A Wednesday
It is all about a speech by an old school thespian
A Wednesday is a concept film. It
has nothing to do with reality, logic, and path-breaking cinema as some
would like us to believe. It is vigilante film genre at its mediocre
best, with a dash of jingoist sloganeering, and a ‘loud’ background
score to manufacture the elusive elements of suspense and high drama.
While
the film does not work cinematically, Naseer’s speech in the end does.
It salvages a nearly sunk enterprise. The audience gives a standing
ovation to the film for that alone.
It is like a boxing bout. A
boxer may have done badly and lost all the rounds but the last one. He
can still win the bout if he knocks his opponent out. Naseer’s speech
is that knock out punch, and an exciting finale. It is visceral,
relatable, and a reflection and expression of the simmering anger and
discontent of our people at the apathy of our rulers to the issue of
wanton terrorist acts that affect our daily life.
Cinema tends to discount the power of a theatrical speech, probably because we have very few actors who can do justice to it. They
mostly stick to their popular dialogue delivery style. You must also
have complete command over the language and a good grasp of its nuances. Actors and stars of today hardly care
for a minor issue like this. They concentrate more on getting their
dance steps right.
Old-fashioned Naseer has that command
and he knows the power of words and how effectively that can be used to
extract a desired response from the audience. Give him a
well-written speech and see what he does with it. He revels in it. His
speech in the courtroom scene in Khuda Ke Liye was marvelous. A
Wednesday is yet another triumph of his great prowess. And of course,
his persona adds gravitas to his roles.
The concept, and theme of A Wednesday
revolve around the great speech, which prevents it from its total
degeneration into a standard vigilante thriller, which would have led
to disastrous commercial and artistic consequences. A Wednesday
contains a lot of mindless crap, and its realism is a poor charade, and
a joke, which may be unpalatable to a sane and sensible mind. Going
into those details may act as a spoiler for those who still have to
watch it. The story of the film is its denouement, i.e., Naseer’s
speech. So, I should not discuss that either.
It is Naseer’s film all the way.
Anupam Kher essays the role of Mumbai’s Police Commissioner who plays
mind games with Naseer. The problem is that those mind games are too
simplistic, predictable, pedestrian, and childish. They fail to create
much tension in spite of an overwhelming background score and a lot of
‘ hectic running up and down in corridors by cops’ shots to enhance the
impact of the non-existence of frenetic activity in the police
headquarters. The kind of jam he is in, the Commissioner should be
issuing hundreds of instructions around, and counting every passing
minute. He issues just a few, is as cool as cucumber, and is hardly
seen to be under any kind of real pressure. It does not work in spite
of a well-equipped control room a la a whole lot of Hollywood films.
Naseer’s character obviously has all the answers since he is the only
one who knows what is happening. He is omnipotent, omniscient, and as
smart as Steve Jobs. He is such a genius, an armchair warrior, and a
public speaker par excellence.
With the same premise, a much better
film could have been written and helmed that could have set a new
benchmark of cinematic excellence. What we have here is a ‘one speech’ film, a clear case of working with extremely low benchmarks, an abject failure.
The silver lining is that it is a film without big-time stars.
If UTV succeeds in making money on this, non-star cast films will
continue to get financial backers. The greatest hurdle remains there
though. Our film writers and directors still seek inspiration from the
moribund cinema of Hollywood. They are not even making feeble attempts
to break through the damned stranglehold.
RKS