Bollywood Review: Yuva

As I mentioned in my first posting, I'll occasionally be delving into Bollywood news and reviews on this blog... I just can't help it. Once you go Bollywood, you can't go back.

Last weekend we watched Mani Ratnam's 2004 flick Yuva (the title means "Youth"). It was playing during the summer I spent in India, but I never had the chance to see it. As a big fan of Mani Ratnam (I spent a lot of time watching Bombay over and over for a research project back in the day), I was looking forward to this one, despite the lukewarm reviews I had heard from friends who did see it.

The story begins with an assassination attempt on a bridge in Kolkata, and most of the movie is told as a flashback of the stories of the three young men involved in the incident. Ratnam is no stranger to politics -- his films have addressed political terrorism (Roja, Dil Se..) and communal violence (Bombay), and he was himself the target of a terrorist bomb after the release of Bombay -- and in Yuva he uses the three main characters to comment on today's Indian youth and their political engagement (or lack thereof). Ajay Devgan is Michael, a student organizer who attempts to rally the local populace against a corrupt politician. Vivek Oberoi is Arjun, a happy-go-lucky recent graduate who wants to go to America to find good times and his fortune (Ratnam describes him as "the most MTV-ized" character in the film in an interview with, erm, MTV India).

The big surprise to me was Abhishek Bachchan's amazing channeling of his father Amitabh's Angry Young Man role from the 1970s, but with a much darker and more disturbed air. His character, Lallan, is a petty thug who works for the politician that Michael is trying to defeat (he managed to win the Filmfare Award for Best Actor in a Supporting Role AND a Special Mention from the critics who vote for that award as Best Actor, but did not win "Best Actor in a Villainous Role;" even Bollywood's awards ceremonies are dramatic). As in many of Ratnam's films, the female characters are barely developed, though Rani Mukherjee does an excellent job bringing out the pathos of her role as Lallan's abused wife (she too won a Filmfare award).

Much of the film (aside from the songs, which Ratnam had originally intended to omit) avoids the sumptuous color of usual Bollywood fare, in favor of a gritty, grayish patina. The songs, by frequent Ratnam collaborator A.R. Rahman, unfortunately fall far short of his previous work. He stretches for dance club hits and eschews the slightly more traditional elements that have always been his strength. Like the film as a whole, the music compares favorably to much of the Bollywood standard, but suffers by comparison to its creators' earlier efforts. I suppose there are worse things to be cursed with than greatness.