1978's
Don, directed by Chandra Barot and starring Amitabh Bachchan, is a classic in its own right. It's not a "
Mughal-E-Azam-" or "
Sholay-classic," but, on quite a modest budget, Barot managed to, as his directorial entrance into the film industry, create a throughly excellent, extremely enjoyable film, which, though probably not "flawless" (so, I wasn't fully fond of the "whistle" sound-effect during the climactic graveyard-situated conclusion) has certainly managed to stand the test of time, remembered to-day as a very fun, very campy cult classic, that just begs for a relaxed Friday night and a bagful of buttered popcorn. The movie has left its mark, and I'd dare to say that, for most of the audience that will go to watch Shah Rukh Khan and Farhan Akhtar's "re-make," it will be in the back of the mind, just waiting for comparisons to be made as soon as the credits start to roll, and the lights come on. Though no one can really say what the "proper formula" is for a "successful film," I'll attribute the success of 1978's
Don to a few things; those that I feel are essential to just about any movie that wishes to set its sights on some measurable degree of accomplishment: good acting, a good script, intelligent direction, and a helping of luck (right time, right audience — all that). Barot's
Don happened to have all four ingredients, and maybe some more, and thus he birthed a winner; Akhtar's
Don...
(
Beware all ye who read the following, lest that thine eyes be stricken by the dreaded SPOILER: )
Farhan Akhtar's recent project, which he seems to have made a point about saying is very much an effort in "homage," falls at least slightly short in just about every respect when it comes to the agenda of a good movie. Starting out, the new
Don feels great... but only if one wishes to be reminded of exactly what one must later make comparisons with. Watching the first half-hour or so of
Don (2006) in the theater, one can almost get ready to buy the DVD and play it alongside his copy of
Don (1978), just about literally pointing out the small differences; much as one would in one of those little two-pictures-side-by-side games in a children's activity-book. And, barring the lack of the ultra-funky colors on which the original opening credits rolled, one will find that there is actually very little difference present at all (other than maybe a Don who's roughly three quarters of a foot shorter than he used to be). In keeping with "changing times and shifting tastes," the "mood," the tone is a bit darker (a fun green tinge envelops just about every frame of the film), but the story, the players, the moments — hell, even the dialogues: everything is straight out of twenty-eight years prior. The similarities are striking, really: The new Don has a lethal brief-case, a penchant for shooting people for their choice of foot-wear, and the ability to watch sexy women sexily dance to the lines, "Yeh Mera Dil" (though, granted, he does so with arousal more than a touch more tangible). Luckily, Akhtar seems to have crammed in his promise of "homage" quite heavily into this bit of his movie, and things do gradually get less "predictable." So, the first roughly half-hour of the new
Don had me roll my eyes a few times, as I watched Shah Rukh Khan move his lips to Amitabh Bachchan's dialogues, but, mercifully, Akhtar spared me much more "nostalgia" post the entrance of his Jasjit. In fact, I felt that Akhtar's J.J. was one of the few things I could perhaps (
perhaps) appreciate
beyond Barot's version.
While Pran is a phenomenal actor, and I liked him throughout the original
Don, in retrospect, it is a bit of a stretch to imagine the aging, somewhat "pauncy" Pran pulling off some of the extra-ordinary feats that Chandra Barot had his Jasjit's stunt-double perform. Arjun Rampal, though, unlike his predecessor, limp and all, very well fits the roll of a pissed-off, emotionally- and physically-crippled man who, at the end of the day, could probably wipe the floor with your ass, which he just broke in half. Even the back-story of this J.J. has been altered, and, I feel, not necessarily for the worse. Excised is the "circus" excuse for athletic ability (I suppose it's more believable, nowadays, that a person would work out just for the sake of being "fit"), and supplanted it has been with a decent "broken-up family" angle. So, points given for the new Jasjit.
All is not roses, however, when it comes to these sorts of character alterations and "updates." Oddly, I find the 1978 Roma — played inimitably by beauty-meets-talent Zeenat Aman — to be not only more interesting, but more deadly, than Priyanka Chopra's 2006 rendition of the girl. It can't all be chocked up to the supposed anonymity (supposed, as it's not true) of strong women in to-day's cinema, either. It's not that Chopra's Roma is "weak," or that Chopra's physique doesn't befit a gorgeous-but-lethal lasy. On the contrary, I might have liked to see Priyanka Chopra enact the role of Elektra in the eponymous 2004 movie, which Jennifer Garner rather fucked up. (Sorry: I saw it last week, and the bile just hasn't been washed out of me, yet.) Rather, my problem with Priyanka Chopra's Roma — versus Zeenat's — was the "humanity" factor, or, rather, the lack thereof. 1978's Roma struck me as genuine and personable. A painfully-obvious stunt double did her action (but, hell, that's part of the fun of '78's
Don), but Aman got to put in all the heart that the role needed, and maybe then some. The part came alive for me because it was well-crafted and full. Chopra, on the other hand, felt (again, "to me") "there because she has to be": an obligatory cog in the re-make machine. I don't know what Ram Gopal Varma will do with Basanti in his upcoming re-make of
Sholay (is she in it? is she not?), but Farhan Akhtar apparently just couldn't forgo a character as important as Roma in his tribute to Chandra Barot's cult classic. Where he went wrong, though, is in doing a half-assed job: The girl is there, but the heart behind her is not; and the hole left behind shows. (I apologize if that's too fruity.)
Shah Rukh Khan: Great actor; so-so performance — and, once more, it's more blame for for the director, than it is for the actor.
Again, when a re-make is attempted, comparisons are inevitable. Everyone knows this: audiences, actors, directors, the Amish. Further, the more famous the original, the more ready the new project ought to be to bear the wrath of a slew of pissed-off critics, relentless romantics, and vacillating cine-philes; prepared to shoulder the weight of the endless "old-versus-new matches" that each of us is confident will take place, and eagerly awaits the occurence of. When the former film relied on a "plot twist" for at least a significant part of its success, then the labor of the new film-maker becomes all the more Herculean; and so, too, grows the anxiety of being crushed under the weight of it: "Keep the same twist, and what's the point of even making my movie?" "Change it, then, 'how?'"; and, "will my surprise even compare to that of the original?" I've acknowledged that Farhan Akhtar had a very arduous challenge before him when he opted to re-make Chandra Barot's
Don, as the movie not only had a brilliant, genuine "shocker," but is the type that can be done successfully only once (there's no way to make it appealing a second time around); so, now that I've noted his task, I think I'll rip Akhtar a new ass:
Farhan's decision to drastically alter the ending of "his
Don" is almost tangibly desperate, and, more important, perhaps makes for an overall less enjoyable film. We all expected the "cop" to be bad; so, if he'd been "good," we'd just have been waiting for his "turn" till the end of the movie, accepting that it wasn't going to happen only after the ending credits had finished rolling — probably a situation Akhtar didn't desire. If said poilice officer's "evil identity" had been revealed in an overtly "dramatic way," we'd just have rolled our eyes into our skulls as we perhaps literally shouted into the darkness of the theater, "NO SHIT!" So, Akhtar turns Boman Irani (who, by the way, has done a very good job in his debut "villain" role) wicked almost too quickly in the script (significantly before even half the movie is over). I suppose that it's not an altogether bad decision, as, once again, the alternatives are not appealing, but it does take away one required "surprise," meaning Akhtar now had less to work with. I even liked the choice to swap the names of the two key policemen, as doing so does keep a certain fun uncertainty going in the audience, if only for a while: "Malik was bad in the old
Don, so he
can't be bad in this one... or, can he be!" The "cop surprise" soon out of the way — and, thus, not even a real "surprise" — Akhtar stowes away his "real shocker" for the very end of the movie. The literal "last five minutes" is when the big "twist" is revealed, and — beyond just being stupid — I think it might have played a part in slightly fucking up the "ride, per se" of the whole venture.
Ready? Vijay's not Vijay... he's DON! That's right. Becuase of the "technological update" incorporated into this rendition of
Don, we find out approximately 300 seconds before the picture's end that the man we all thought was Vijay, was, in fact, the real DON. (Gasp.) Actually, then, "Vijay" was on-screen for just about one song and two (very short) scenes, all other appearances being of the nefarious, cold and calculating, Don. The thing is, again, it might not be
only an inane, desperate plot-point. (Sure, it's potentially kind of cool to think about, but we're too pissed off by its sheer idiocy to think about it right now.) Farhan Akhtar is a good director, and I think he might have gone the extra mile not to leave any "loopholes" for the audience to note upon that crucial "second viewing" (after all, we have to buy another ticket to see for ourselves just where he fucked up [we're all very cocky, and thus very sure that he did... he must have]). I haven't seen it again yet, and I'm not sure whether Akhtar does or doesn't "f*** up" any of the story for the sake of his stunner, but, if he does make the following decision consciously, then I think plot holes become quite a minor concern. Throughout
Don (2006), I couldn't help but feel, more than just once, that Shah Rukh Khan's "Vijay" was just a bit too strong, a bit too smart, a bit too... "Don" in some very crucial moments. Every time this happened, of course, I shut myself the hell up by saying "suspend your disbelief, you critical asshole: it's a movie — a have-fun
action movie." During some of these moments, too, I felt that Khan's performance wasn't quite on par with Bachchan's, as I just couldn't feel for his damned-close-to-invincible "Vijay" the way I could for the latter's. Bachchan/Barot's Vijay, generally, came off a street-smart, active young guy who was genuinely worried in many of his circumstances — he should have been. He was more human, more authentic; more believable as the guy who'd "somehow" landed in a profoundly shitty situation that he shouldn't possibly quite sure how to get out of. Khan's Vijay, on the other hand, kicks ass as though there were no to-morrow, besting police officer and hardened criminal alike, and never
really emotes the expected fear and trepidation we'd expect him to. So, Shah Rukh Khan isn't so great as Amitabh Bachchan, right? Well... right, but that's not the point here. The
ending, perhaps, puts less of the blame on Khan, and more of it on Farhaan. If Akhtar wanted people to watch his movie again, and not say to themselves, "if he's really Don, why is he so worried in his private moments? Why isn't he more confident when he 'can' be?" Why "this" and why "that," and "why, why, why," then, I think it's entirely possible that
he (Akhtar) was responsible for Shah Rukh Khan's somewhat less-than-perfect performance. If Farhan Akhtar put into "Vijay" fewer vulnerabilties because of his wanting things to "make sense, logically" when Don ripped off his "Vijay" mask, to reveal his visibly-identical face underneath, then Shah Rukh Khan can't be faulted for his "lacking" portrayal of the character. With it in mind that Farhan Akhtar really
is a very smart, very capable film-maker, I think this notion is entirely plausible, and so, if it's the true case, I put some blame on Akhtar for sacrificing a more-than-two-hour-long journey for the sake of an ending that "makes sense, logically." In a
movie, I believe it hurts when the protagonist isn't so identifiable as he should be. It's not worth the sacrifice of the trip to satisfy the demand of the "surprise ending." If Akhtar insisted that the ending work technically, then he should have changed the ending (which, I feel, he should have done anyway), rather than the movie. (Let me just re-iterate here that I'm not even sure that this "directorial-decision; OK-performance" theory is true: it might just have been a performance that was not to my liking.) Further, if one
is to incorporate some sort of "twist" in one's movie, one had better make damned sure that it will be
genuine, and not just something to fill the space of the demand to shock people. When Khan fought Rampal (as we all just knew he eventually would [two "heroes" can't be in a movie together without fighting: god would just come set fire to the movie hall]), I actually heard myself say, "man, wouldn't it be awesome if he were really 'Don' all along?" I chuckled at how preposterous a suggestion I had concocted. About twenty minutes later, I threw up in my mouth a little.
As for the songs, again, I think the "new" falls short of the old... by
a lot. Kalyanji-Anandji's score for 1978's
Don is one of my all-time favorite Hindi-film soundtracks. It's not just "Khaike Paan Banaras Waala" and "Yeh Mera Dil," either: it's every damned song in the movie. Kishore Kumar is the best singer ever (not an opinion, but a fact!

), and Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle are legends for a reason. The new
Don's music struck me as comprising either inferior renditions of classics or so-so new tracks. Shah Rukh Khan and Udit Narayan (who is for Khan, as Sudesh Bhosle is for Amitabh Bachchan [i.e., identically-voiced when he wishes to be]) do a good job with "Khaike Paan Banaras Waala," but, really, I guess it's just futile to try to compare it to the original. "Yeh Mera Dil" just sounds like a sped-up version of the number Helen moved to. "Main Hoon Don," itself, is mediocre, but its purpose as part of the background score is well-achieved: the music (not the "songs), in fact, is great here. It was phenomenal in 1978's
Don, but it's great here, as well.
Overall, I don't want to give the wrong impression. (It's usually praise then annihilation in reviews, but I've gone the other way.)
Don is an enjoyable-enough movie, whether you've seen the original or haven't. The action is exciting (though I still feel that the fast-ass car chases of the 1970s reign supreme; especially those of the original
Don); the performances are more than minimally-watchable; the story's not bad (fine: ignore the very end if you must); and the music — "homage" or new — won't put you to sleep. For his next venture, I'd prefer that Farhan Akhtar abandon "homages," and revert to making creative, interesting, novel films, such as the two he did prior to
Don. Nonetheless, the "verdict" is that the new
Don, though in several respects a "lacking" movie, is not something you should feel compelled to get the boot-legged release of. Watching it in the theater is a fun experience, and, really, that's what an entertainer-movie is supposed to be. It's not that
Don (2006) is a bad movie; it's just that it isn't nearly so great as the 1978 original. Once it gets "fresh" (about forty minutes in), it's much more interesting for those who thought they'd just be watching Farhan Akhtar pull a quasi Gus-Van-Sant (concerning, of course, the much-[rightly-]maligned 1998 re-make of
Psycho). It's not the type of "rip-off" many people have come to expect from recent Indian cinema, either, such as
Ek Ajnabee, which relied
solely on a (dumb-ass) conclusion "twist" to distinguish itself from its source.
Don (2006) is, by many accounts, a good-enough "re-make." Don't expect the original, and don't expect anything "great," and I don't think you'll walk out of the theater in fumes (you might be especially pleased if you remove your ass from your seat as soon as Vardhan is arrested).
*Oh, I'm sure that many people (inclusing me) "knew" it wouldn't happen (it wasn't in any of the papers), but, nevertheless, waited for
some sort of Amitabh-Bachchan cameo. Well, it's there! ...Before the new "Khaike Paan Banaras Waala," we hear
Baghban's "Chali Chali" (sung, naturally, by Bachchan, in his own voice) playing at a wedding. HOORAY!
