In loving memory of my strong, courageous ears.
There is something gravely wrong with the world of Rock On 2. Please, I am not the obvious, predictable types. So no, I am not going to say that my ears felt like they were Tom Hanks in Saving Private Ryan every time Farhan Akhtar sang. I am not going to ask if Farhan Akhtar had mistaken music concerts for Zumba classes. I am not going to claim that I make for a more convincing guitarist armed with my toothbrush than Arjun Rampal is with an actual guitar. I am not going ask how no one's stomach burst laughing when lines like 'neela asmaan jo ek samundar hai (blue sky which is an ocean)' were being mouthed. Come on, don't tell me it doesn't sound like 'kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi'. Or you wouldn't call the police if I walked up to you and said, 'yeh aloo paratha ek burger hai'.
But I am going to ask, is it okay to parade Bollywood's big, fat, ego as a film? And expect us to compensate our miserable decision making skills with very expensive popcorn at the theatres?
But I am going to ask, is it okay to parade Bollywood's big, fat, ego as a film?
If Rock On 2 were to be described in one line, it would be thus: Strong, muscled Bollywood in expensive hipster chic comes to the rescue of whimpering damsel in distress. Only, since we are a cool, young, film about muzik shuzik the damsel in distress must be something hatke. Not the usual abla naari man, but a north eastern village full of very helpless north eastern people. Exotic, poor, and casting coup of the century.
So Adi (Farhan Akhtar), the hero is a very attractive man like you know. He treated his wife like a piece of furniture for nearly half of the first Rock On film, he treats her thus through the entire course of this film. He is in self imposed exile in a small village in Meghalaya, where he claims to run 'cooperatives and farms'. He has a beard, occasionally a man bun, and a wooden cottage which he lights up using several skinny candles. They don't have fatter candles or lamps.
There's Joe (Arjun Rampal) and KD (Purab Kohli) whose job is to fawn over Adi and tell us that the leading man of the film doesn't lack common sense like I suspect, he is just a nice man.
In the mornings, he gives children Mango Bites and ambles around in a jeep, seemingly helping farmers get fair price for their produce. Adi also thinks he is responsible for a young man's suicide, so he must make his wife and child pay for it by living on their own, while he breathes in the fresh air of the mountains. There's Joe (Arjun Rampal) and KD (Purab Kohli) whose job is to fawn over Adi and tell us that the leading man of the film doesn't lack common sense like I suspect, he is just a nice man. And he's conflicted and sad too I'm guessing, given Akhtar's chapped lips are crying out for a dab of Boroline. I don't get any of this, and I guess that explains my bad luck on Tinder too.
There's Shraddha Kapoor with the same wide-eyed I'm-so-troubled expression. Like the wide-eyed I'm-going-to-die expression from Ek Villain and the wide-eyed don't-call-me-blah expression from ABCD2 and the wide-eyed i'm-not-that-blah expression from Aashiqui 2. Her problem here is, she is the daughter of Pandit Uncle Scrooge or some such grumpy musician.
You have to give it to this village though. If I were them, I would dig a hole and hide in it if someone told me that these people, and a singing Farhan Akhtar are coming to save me.
And this group of very unhappy people set out to save a poor north eastern village. You have to give it to this village though. If I were them, I would dig a hole and hide in it if someone told me that these people, including a singing Farhan Akhtar are coming to save me. However, these brave villagers don't.
Rock On 2 doesn't have music at its heart. I mean, unless of course, music for them is hanging out in air-conditioned Ikea showrooms in grey, blue, khakee tee shirts and slapping each other's backs every 15 minutes saying, 'bro, music'. Honestly, it's easier to believe Donald Trump cares about 'the Heendoo' than these guys care about music.
The music, of a genre called "Main Bob Dylan ban na chahta hoon', is smattered with words like fly, rise, protest, fight, dreams and was actually not entirely useless. It makes me feel less embarrassed about my middle school poems.
Only, if only, the filmmakers had considered that they need to pay more attention to the script and dialogues and not what colour Farhan Akhtar's head-band should be...
Ohhh, Bollywood, script... What?