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(Spoilers possibly lie ahead; if you haven't seen Sholay, I'll probably end up spoiling it for you, also.)
The name says it all: "Ram Gopal Varma Ki Aag" is a working title that Varma ended up using as his final, and Ram Gopal Varma Ki Aag is a work-in-progress that Ramu should have spent much more time conceiving and executing, but rushed to release just as it is. Normally, I'd preach never to read a review before watching a movie, because reviews warp your mind and you perception, and you end up looking for things to like and things to dislike based on what some random reviewer happened to share with you his like and dislike for. In the case of Aag — as I'll henceforth refer to it, because I can't even bring myself to copy-and-paste Varma's loaded choice of title throughout the remainder of my review — however, skimming all those terrible things that everyone has eagerly spewed might actually lower your expectations just enough for you to not demand a refund from the manager as you depart from his theater.
Re-makes have it tough: First, people bitch if a good movie is re-made because they somehow find the thought of anyone touching something they've come to love sacrilegious, or they whine if a shitty picture is being re-done, because they can't wrap their brains around why anyone would want to re-do something that was atrocious to begin with. Second, Sholay is arguably India's greatest "modern" (not B&W) classic — indubitably iconic and influential, you have to admit it is, even if (for some inexcusable reason) it's not your cup o' tea. So, "maverick" filmmaker Ram Gopal Varma already set up a hell of a hurdle for himself by publicizing so heavily as he did his plans to re-make not just a good movie, but a movie that many still consider India's greatest masterpiece. I even suggested (to no one in particular) that, Sholay's general "story" (not necessarily plot) being so universal and accessible as it is, Varma ought to just keep his mouth shut about the source material, and go ahead with his own vision. Well, perhaps the reason Varma had to disclose the origin of his idea was that, indeed, Ramu was re-making Sholay — not "re-imagining" it, not taking an idea and making it his own: scene-for-scene, moment-for-moment, re-doing Ramesh Sippy's work. Aag is not to Sippy's film what Sarkar was to Coppola's The Godfather. The situation isn't even comparable to Farhan Akhtar's 2006 re-make of Chandra Barot's 1978 cult-classic, Don, because Akhtar, at least, tried to make his project his own. Aag is the sort of re-make you can't — no matter how desperately you want to — watch "on its own"; it's the kind of re-make that beats you with every passing second with the demand, "you've seen this before; how are you liking it this time?" Even if you're morally opposed to making comparisons to the original as you sit through a re-make, you'll have no choice but to think of Sholay as you endure Aag; it goes to great lengths to assure that you do so: The dialogues, the music, the sequence of events — it's all straight from the original. To a certain, admittedly vague, extent, you can forgive this as an attempt to note the value of the source. Beyond, that extent, you realize it's just lazy writing and slothful direction. Aag rather than be the sort of re-imagining of a classic that actually uses some dash of imagination, hasn't a clever thought its own in its head, and so you get the distinct feeling that its creators basically sat before a DVD of Sholay with a pen and some paper in-hand. The fact is, if you've seen Sholay (and it's the most-watched movie on the planet, so, odds are, you have), you've seen Aag. If you need to realize this through analogy, think back to Gus Van Sant's atrocious re-shoot of Psycho. Varma is only a few inches behind in the race toward banality.
Where the film does take on life its own, a few moments of Aag do feel very good: I love Gabb... sorry, Babban's newly-violent encounter with Inspector Narsimha. Ahmed's death (the lips say "Rehmad," but the subtitles insist the name's still Ahmed) is horribly handled in comparison with the original, but the exchange it causes is done deftly and with passion. The good stops soon, though. Among the "new" things you'll have to sit through are a painfully inappropriate "love song" between Heero and Ghungroo, an obscenely bad rendition of Veeru by Devgan, and numerous incomprehensible lines about the Iraq War (I'm "American," so I get that I'll hear these dialogues differently from how a Bumbaiya film-goer will, but the lines are still awkward and dumb — if they were meant to make the film more "contemporary," it should have been kept in mind that topical references only age a film faster in the long run).
On the "technical" side of things, Aag is good, but, following in the footsteps of one of the most argutely-handled action films of the century, I wonder why Aag didn't try harder. Sholay's action is as exhillarating now as it was in 1975, maybe moreso, when you remember that there's not a C.G.I. to be found anywhere in those ravines. Aag looks and moves well, but it doesn't bother to even try to live up to the legacy of technical perfection left by Sippy's work.
The songs, in large part, suck. "Mehbooba Mehbooba" is OK, but, I admit, the rap/hip-hop hurts. If you're one of those chicks who scream every time media-made "hottie" Abhishek Bachchan comes on screen, you'll get to shriek a few times here. The Holi song keeps reminding me of something by Ricky Martin, but it's not terrible. Aag's version of "Koi Haseena Jab" is all right the first time around, but its strict "all-rightness" serves to remind how little effort was put forth in the re-make of a film that features some of Hindi cinema's most memorable numbers. The "sensual" song between Heero and Ghungroo might be decent on an album, but its picturization is painful (not to mention very out-dated) to sit through.
As for the performances, things aren't so bad at all. I've been hearing a lot about Mohan Lal ever since he agreed to be involved in this picture, and, I tell you, I went into the theater braced to be blown away. I wasn't. Now, before the Mohanites jump down my throat, accusing me of having no taste, of having never seen the work that makes him great, I openly disclose that I haven't seen the man in anything but Aag and Company, and I don't really remember him in Company. He wasn't bad, but he was hardly impressive. Let's blame it partly on the script, partly on a bad movie, partly on the fact that he's following up the amazing Sanjeev Jumar, and partly — come on — on his just being wrong for the part. If you love the actor, keep on loving, but don't watch Aag just to see his face: it ain't worth it.
I've never cared much for Nisha Kothari, but, truthfully, I quite liked her. She's cute and spunky and tough-as-nails, and she balances it all just right. Thankfully, Varma's spared us having to sit though Hema Malini's verbosity as Basanti coming through the lips of little Nisha Kothari's Ghungroo; the result is a younger (too young for Devgan, by the way), more energetic, somehow still-endearing character.
Sushmita Sen (whom I openly love) is very good, but she has little to do but stand in the background and be attracted to the guy who looks like he could be her son (which is fine, except the age thing is never addressed in the movie). Ram Gopal Varma promised, pre-release, that, while Jaya Bhaduri (as Radha) was quiet, reserved, and left to be wounded in the background in Sholay, Aag's Durga would be a sort of active volcano, bent on vengeance and justive. Well, kudos to Varma for getting it so wrong: Radha was essential to Sholay, and, in Aag, you barely even notice Durga. Sen is fine, but she's got nothing on the Thakur's bahu.
If you're worried about how the "new guy" will fare before a cast of competent veterans, allay your concerns: Prashant Raj is simply terrific as Raj. Do you remember how, in Superman Returns, everyone felt that Brandon Routh was perfect because he was just the right bit reminiscent of Christopher Reeve without turning into an affected clone? Well, Prashant Raj — especially early in the film — feels exactly like 1975's Amitabh Bachchan (which, if you have any sense at all, you know is a very good thing); fortunately, too, Raj never "acts" like, mimics, Bachchan: His body language, his dialogue delivery, his style — everything about him flows as it should to appropriately remind us of Jai without making us feel that he's being a horrendous copycat.
Ajay Devgan, on the other hand, is one of the worst aspects of Varma's movie. Until about Deewangee, Ajay Devgan could barely pull a performance out of his ass. Thereafter, he morphed into an ultimately competent "somber protagonist"; but, he still had no clue as to how to pull off comedy. Sadly for Ajay, Heero is still written like Veeru, and Veeru's a role Ajay Devgan will probably never be able to work.
Amitabh Bachchan (of course he gets saved for last) actually is fucking brilliant in Aag. Unfortunately, the last time he was fucking great as a villain, was in 2006's Family, which was just a hackneyed, horribly pieced-together piece of shit. Aag, where again Bachchan gets to shine as a sinister sort of screature, also fails to give him a fantastic backdrop against which to function. Comparisons with his work in Aks, barring a few seconds of raspy laughter, fall flat: Babban is an evil, contemptible sociopath, and he has nothing to do with Manu Verma. Claiming that Bachchan "hams," too, is baseless; it's like saying Pacino should have toned it down as Tony Montana. Babban is a loud, arrogant, over-the-top character, and he's played exactly as he should have been by Amitabh. Yes, I'd like to know why Singh has two different-colored irises, and why he has a limp, and why he consistently bothers to chisel a decent goatee out of his facial hair, but these questions fall on Ram Gopal Varma, not on Amitabh Bachchan. Who was better, Amjad Khan or Amitabh Bachchan? Amjad Khan, but so what? Gabbar Singh was a magnificent role in a superfluous film, and it was written and directed by the best. As "Babban Singh" — a fun, but half-baked part — no one could have done half as well as Amitabh Bachchan.
Aag hit the marquee with all sorts of anticipation, hope, and naysaying. It was sure to either blow us all away, or sent us out of the theater laughing: "Maina kaha na ki sala paagal ho gaya hai; sala kucch dhanka na karne ka hai." I feel it hits neither extreme: Aag is, overall, a mediocre effort, which wouldn't have done well no matter what, but wouldn't have been susceptible to a tenth the pre-criticism it was if it hadn't been an attempt at Sholay. Ironically, where it falls flat on its face is in its decision to be so very exactly like Sholay in content, yet to very "Ram Gopal Varma" in execution. Sholay was an out-and-out entertainer, but it had a mighty brain, too. Say what you will about whence it derived its ideas, Sholay was, altogether, original, well-crafted, and a delight to watch; it had also never before been done in India (not on that scale). Salim-Javen penned a hell of a script for it, and Ramesh Sippy made certain that everything went on just right. Ram Gopal Varma, on the other hand, didn't care that Babban kept a goatee or that Heero waxed his chest hair, or that the songs were abrupt and ill-conceived, or that the writing wasn't quite up to the mark. Attention to detail was never paid because too much attention was given to re-creating a classic, all the while claiming that that very source was just a tool to frame the basic idea of the offspring. Sholay made itself from the ground-up, accepting style and plot ideas from here and from there. Aag just Xeroxes Sholay — skeleton, muscles, skin, and all — and hopes to hell that things will go all right. The result is that, Sholay is still a classic, and perhaps will always be one, and Aag is a C- "B movie" that everyone feels proud of having predicting the failure of.
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each and every actor looked so wrongfully crap that it is beyond comprehension, that he was playing toy games with 30 crores on his disposal.