New Delhi:
Horseplay can never be a good idea when the deal is to launch the Bollywood career of a star-daughter and A-lister nephew. Azaad, directed by Abhishek Kapoor, who has infinitely better cinema, indulges in too much for its own good. Scrambling for an elusive semblance of order, the film has runaway disaster written all over it.
However, it’s not such a bad thing that the horse – a beautiful black stallion – steals the show. But a film can’t be based on a single horse creature, can it? Azad is a saddle-less affair as the horse has all the power and the script has none.
A rustic Romeo and Juliet, a sloppy mix of a poor man’s lagan and a weak hidalgo who runs a two-and-a-half-hour course without any sense of horsemanship, wandering aimlessly around in search of free movement and points . It can tell of class and gender oppression, poverty and rebellion.
The weak and unconvincing script hampers the efforts of two newcomers, Raveena Tandon’s daughter Rasha Thadani and Ajay Devgan’s nephew Amaan Devgan, to make an impact. They are so passionate that they want to transcend Azad’s cinematic freedoms, but they are not provided with the tools they need for this purpose.
Aman Devgan is at least given the kind of screen time that can be considered as compensation, but Rasha Thadani comes into the film early but disappears from sight. He is allowed to play some in the second half, leaving him with plenty to do to make up for lost time. Both have potential but any judgment on them will have to wait until they get a better film to showcase their wares.
Healthyly stable boy Govind (Devgan), due to his youthful transgressions, comes into trouble with a tyrannical landlord in the middle provinces of the 1920s. When matters get out of hand, the youth runs away from the village and joins a group of bandits led by Thakur Vikram Singh (Ajay Devgan, eager to help the young newcomer).
Govind is particularly drawn to the farmer-turned-robber’s horse Azad, who once, flashbacks reveal, was a sickly, tiny pony one pull away from death. The strong, swift creature now literally eats the palm of Vikram Singh’s hand and stands the master in good stead when danger looms over the gang.
The obvious allusion, made clear in a story that Govind’s grandmother tells him in the first sequence of the film, is to Rana Pratap’s horse Chetak and its role in the battle of Haldighati. Azad is a symbol of the desire for freedom. But Govind is no Rana Pratap. To break the shackles of slavery to which an entire generation of village people have attached themselves, the young man must find a way to bring Azad off his high horse.
The bulk of the period drama is made up of the neighing, neighing and nodding of a recalcitrant horse. The young man tries to capture the animal he has captured – the only thing of beauty in the film. This mute four-legged creature is fond of country liquor, and Govind wants him to give it up. It responds only to firm commands, not weak pleading.
At the beginning of the film, the stable boy chances upon meeting the landlord’s daughter, Janaki (Thadani). He starts taking wrong steps with her. He is beaten brutally. It is his own father, a farmer who doesn’t have the spine to stand up to the owner, Rai Bahadur Shatru Singh (Piyush Mishra), and the owner’s son, Tej Singh (Mohit Malik), who wields the whip.
For good measure, the film has a typically boisterous Holi song which doesn’t end well for the hero. He finds himself in a well. Later in the film, there is another song, this time a love song, which is for the young couple. By overcoming the barriers of class and power, they have now come closer to each other.
The lovers are on the backs of two horses, a stallion and a mare, and as the young humans profess their love for each other through song, the animals are not far behind. Azad and Bijli perform horse tricks in sync with Amit Trivedi’s music.
Part of the intriguing plot is also an unrequited love story involving Vikram Singh and Kesar (Diana Penty), who is forcefully made a part of the landlord’s household. This is why Vikram Singh rebelled and formed a gang of dacoits. The rebel convinces Govind for a reason that he is a rebel and not a dacoit. When you fight for others, you are not some old criminal, Vikram insists.
No matter how much Azad – the film, not the horse – tries to impress with its stunts and noise, its trivialities are impossible to overcome, even if one is in a generous mood and willing to let this barely-burnt bunkum go. Thinking about. For entertainment.
Azad is about a black beauty who gallops like a dream but all her horse power can’t save this concoction about an underprivileged boy who falls in love with a horse, whom he begins to trust , who can help him ride to freedom. When the young man is not with the horse, he is with Janaki, who meets Sly while her brother plots to steal a Dalit man’s horse before the village’s “Ardh-Kumbh” race.
Yes, there is a full horse race at the end of the movie. How original! Azad gives up the chase on a few occasions and, in the climax, cuts short the race, which is actually a free-for-all rather than a fair competition on a level playing field.
This was a hundred years ago and the British were still around and the Indian landlords and their descendants were the epitome of evil. So, anything goes. When Govind decides to jump into the fray and try to save his people against all odds, the obstacles in his way multiply exponentially and the film makes less sense than at any other point in its attempts to make a logical progression. Comes in.
What is seen on screen is unbridled torture for the equine creature that gives the film its title and for the humans in the house who are expected to cradle this bundle of inanities. To take Azad with you, you must have the strength and patience of a horse.
