Soundtrack

Already labeled as the official remake of the film It’s all Gone Pete Tong, Soundtrack (2004) apparently has nothing to be ashamed of. There may be shots, dialogue and entire scenes recreated from the original, but some may argue that the whole point of a remake, where rights are bought within procedure, is this. The film is an edgy, modern day portrayal of India’s most prolific musician and DJ, Raunak Kaul (Rajeev Khandelwal). It traces his alcohol, drug and sex-fuelled meteoric rise as he battles his internal demons and a damaging handicap as he loses his hearing…

This intensely passionate ode to art, directed by debutant Neerav Ghosh, is, not unsurprisingly, a tale of two halves. As much as the title reminds you that this film is clearly based on a musician, who loses track of his life (no pun intended), this film is originally about the journey of an artist from point B to point C, and a modest, humbling trek back to point A, a point that never really existed prior to his ambitious travails. Raunak Kaul, the protagonist of our story, is the ultimate underdog. Small town – check. Passion – check. Young – check. Big city – check. Dreams – check. Loaded relative – check. Struggle – avoided. Moments of unbelievable inspiration – check!

So we’re chugging along in the first half, oblivious to any sort of speed-breaker, genuine care or concern from any family member (‘Kewl’ Chacha) that ‘arty’ chain-smoker Kaul lives with. He is given a free hand, and makes the most of it – in true Ray Charles style. He hears music, of course, as a merry combination of notes in the most routine of things – breezes, local trains, footsteps, birds chirping, cars honking, gutters and life slipping away – much like August Rush did a few years ago. He sees art in every single frame, and does not shy away from showing us what he is made of. Rock n Roll, ‘madhu makhis’ (honeybees), money, villas and an orgy later, Kaul finds himself on top of the world. The intense, hypnotic eyes of Khandelwal don’t let us down either. He wants it, and he wants it bad. His gaze is sharp enough to burn through our cynicism, atleast momentarily.

And where else can he go but… downward? The film follows a graph that is not entirely unexpected for the first 40 minutes. It is a trip, a spiral psychedelic journey that defines the real calling and purpose of the unstoppable artist in question. We’re not complaining, because, that I assume is how it usually goes. There are saucy montages that involve Khandelwal smoking, drinking whisky or copulating (not always in that order) – a subtle indication of our hero gradually losing the plot. The writers, in addition, take forward a typical film school concept of our hero fighting his inner demons in the form of a CLOWN – a clown called Johnny Joker (his ‘inner’ existence). This supposedly metaphorical Clown emotes with his mask – walks, talks and taunts him during this downward spiral – apart from disturbing the fluency of proceedings. Overcooked, overdone, and tackily handled, the first half is nothing out of the ordinary with Kaul buying a one-way ticket to self-destruction and permanent deafness. Why the time period between him losing his hearing and his ‘colleagues’ finding out about his handicap is SO long (and vague) and stretched to the point of no return, well, that’s probably cinematic liberty. After all, the anguish and frustration of an eccentric genius must be driven home, right? The song that pushes him into the limelight isn’t strong enough as an independent piece of music, to convince us that he is truly the Beethoven of Bandra and the next best thing after the Mozart of Madras. Argue not, though, because Khandelwal is a big fish by now. Why, even Anurag Kashyap wants him to compose the score for his new project.

When hope is a luxury and samosas a priority during a much-needed interval break is when the crew decides to wake up and present to us Mr Hyde in a surprisingly sophisticated and charming manner. Soha Ali Khan enters the picture, as the hearing-impaired teacher who takes it upon her to change our fallen hero’s sorry life. Obviously well-researched and skillfully handled, Soha goes where not many mainstream actresses have gone before, and comes out with flying colours. The attention to detail and body language of Gauri is a far cry from the reclusive actor more commonly known as Saif Ali Khan’s little sister. The initial dialogue between Khan and Khandelwal, as well as the neat montage of him learning to read lips are points where the film takes off and refuses to enter the folds of predictability and mediocrity ever again. Kaul and Gauri compliment eachother well, and lay the foundation for him to hit back, Ludwig Van Beethoven style. He chances upon the concept of vibrations (not exactly original), but goes about making music in a way that uplifts you enough to temporarily forget some narrative flaws and immerse yourself into the romanticism of it all. It must, against all logic and practicality, end with an open-air concert that takes your breath away. And for a few moments, you forgive yourself for feeling because Raunak Kaul has been to hell and back and still produces hummable music against all odds: music that is far more experimental than most Bollywood films have the habit of churning out as OSTs.

Khandelwal is, at times, way too intense for his own good. I pray that he never finds himself in a Sajid Khan multi-starrer anytime soon, for he chooses his films intelligently – a sort of a promising trend amongst famous TV (ex) actors. Mohan Kapoor as ‘the’ Charlie produces a performance that perfects the face of commercialism. He is, dimly so, an idol that Kaul looks upto, and Kapoor treds that thin line between friendship and business with notable caution. There are cameos galore, as video bytes no less, but the biggest casting gaffe is that of Kaul’s mother – a woman who doesn’t really look like she cares for her wayward son too much. Either that or she wasn’t paid well enough, and it showed.

The music, for the scale on which it is supposed to be presented to us on, is below par and not really something that would break barriers in India. Nevertheless, the concept is driven home, thanks to convincing characterization and a more-than-passable directorial effort by Ghosh. A special mention must be made about the remarkable sound-design, which, if not as superb as it is, could have made the entire film fall flat.

In totality, the film could have been half an hour shorter, but who are we to stop the tortured artist from going deaf in one, simple scene?

Hindi, Drama, Color