Mirzya
Director: Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra
Starring: Harshvardhan Kapoor, Saiyami Kher, Om Puri, K K Raina
One-and-a-half stars
Loosely inspired by a traditional Punjabi folk tale, Mirzya is the story of a pair of star-crossed lovers, played by newcomers Harshvardhan Kapoor (son of renowned actor Anil Kapoor, so no pressure there) and Saiyami Kher, until now best known for her modelling work.
Unfortunately, neither of them can act. Mehra clearly knew this, and so wisely chose to give them only about 15 minutes of dialogue, cleverly relying instead on spectacular cinematography and special effects to carry the 145-minute film – a word of warning to the impatient: 95 per cent of the scenes are shot in agonisingly super-slow motion.
The romantic tragedy is doomed from the start, mostly because of its disturbing premise: 9-year-old schoolboy, Monish has such a deep love for his classmate, Shakespeare-spewing Soochi, that he shoots and kills their maths teacher for caning her.
Monish is locked up for the crime but escapes and goes to live with an ironsmith (played by stage and screen star Om Puri, who is totally miscast).
The film employs many done-to-death Bollywood tropes as Monish grows up to become a scruffy stable boy with lush facial hair and zero charm. Now known as Mirzya, he works for Prince Karan, one of India’s last royals, who has converted his vast palace into a five-star hotel. Soochi, meanwhile, is betrothed to the prince but only has eyes for her childhood sweetheart.
For some inexplicable reason, the story is told in two timelines: one in the 21st century and the other in, er, days of yore, when Indians walked around looking like extras from Game of Thrones. In the latter, Mirzya is an expert marksman who takes matters into his own hands after Soochi is promised in marriage to someone else. Both stories end the same, after midnight trysts, tribal gatherings and a jungle safari during which a CGI cougar decides to join in the fun.
There is so much wrong with Mirzya: one-dimensional characters, an implausible love story, rookie actors mangling glorious lines ripped from Romeo and Juliet, and the absence of a coherent plot.
But most unforgivable is the casual treatment of some of India’s worst social problems: corporal punishment in schools; the skewed patriarchal system; class-based discrimination; and honour killings, in which young adults are murdered.
Movies truly do not get worse than this.
artslife@thenational.ae
