Review of Halla Bol (2008) by Upaasna L — 27 Feb 2008

Rajkumar Santoshi's Halla Bol is like those loud 80s Bollywood potboilers that bark but never bite. For all those expecting the film to be another Rang De Basanti, well, to put it politely, it is not. This is instead a tedious, indeed agonising, journey of a reel hero emerging as a real hero.

Halla Bol is such a hackneyed script that it's quite incredible how it found funding in a day and age when even Sunny Deol has gone silent. Yes, that's the actor you keep thinking of as Santoshi tries to disguise yet another Ghayal-Damini-Ghatak against the backdrop of the film industry.

Santoshi brings in Safdar Hashmi's famous street theatre - and hence the title - Hashmi was murdered while performing the play Halla Bol on the streets of Delhi - adds touches of Ray's Nayak and puts the Jessica Lal case in the forefront. Despite his best intentions - yes, the film's heart is in the right place - Halla Bol turns out to be a terrible hotchpotch. The loud filmi dialogues may draw a whistle or two at the B-centres, but they really do nothing for the audience or the film.

Ajay Devgan plays small-towner Ashfaq, whose acting tutor is Siddhu (Pankaj Kapur), a dacoit-turned-messiah doing street theatre throughout the country stoking the fire lit by burning social issues very much like Hashmi.

Ashfaq tries his luck in Bollywood, becomes Sameer Khan, scores a hit, marries his small-town sweetheart Sneha (Vidya) and goes on to deliver a string of blockbusters punctuated with brand endorsements, including that for Gateway of India undies!

Then when Siddhu arrives at his door with a cause, Sameer doesn't want to get involved in the controversy. But he must as a girl is shot dead at a party where he is the guest of honour. Initially, Sameer denies having seen anything but soon the cry rises from deep within him "halla bol".

What follows and that's a good hour-long chunk of celluloid is corrupt politicians using muscle power, bad cop swallowing forensic reports, sad sister selling her kidney, troubled wife and child harassed by goons. How many times have you seen all that? But what you wouldn't have seen is, hold your breath (or rather zip up!), Ajay Devgan peeing on a Persian rug of the baddie!

The problem with Halla Bol, beyond everything else, is that it fails to track any of the transformations in its protagonist. He was a clean likeable guy who suddenly goes from white to black to make it big in Bollywood and then reverts back to Ariel white after downing a drink in his SUV. Devgan, despite raising his eyebrows in every possible direction and at every possible angle, cannot brood his way out of this half-hearted characterisation.

It is only Pankaj Kapur who shines bright and breathes fire into the role of a man who stands tall - and solitary - in the shifting sands of time and loyalties. Vidya Balan has very little to do but she should seriously do a re-think of what she wants to do with her acting career. Play maudlin in yet another man-dominated movie or sign films like Khoya Khoya Chand. The less said about the music (Sukhvinder Singh) the better while Nataraja Subramanian's camerawork is strictly functional.

First Family and now Halla Bol, hope Santoshi doesn't leave us with tareekh pe tareekh...

(As written for The Telegraph).