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The events that led to the partition of India in 1947 serve as a backdrop to the breathtaking scene of the exhausted razzmatazz of "Kalank", the great but heavy screenwriter and director Abhishek Varman, who opened up to the United States. United more than 300 times the same day as his movie. Indian liberation. Despite the preponderance of scenery and spectacular costumes for Baz Luhrmann to cry with envy, and a handful of highly choreographed production numbers that sporadically accelerate the pulse of the film and reinforce his irresistible quotient, the attractive but disappointing main actors are too embarrbaded by the lethargic narrative to distract viewers enough from their awareness of the pbadage of time and the diminishing of their interest.
The action takes place in and around the city of Husnabad, about a year before the partition that eventually led to the establishment of India and Pakistan as independent countries. Newspaper editor Dev Chaudhry (Aditya Roy Kapur), an affluent member of the Hindu minority elite, regularly publishes in his Daily Times for the continuation of a united India, placing him in the account -drop with increasingly radicalized elements in the Muslim majority. population of the city.
On the other side of the Hindu-Muslim divide, in a working-clbad working-clbad neighborhood known as Hira Mandi, is Zafar (Varun Dhawan), an imposing smith and blacksmith-sword who is generally more attentive to conquests. feminine than the revolutionary movements. He becomes more outspoken in his opposition to Dev and other supporters of the status quo, especially when the Daily Times calls for the opening of British-owned factories that could lead to the bankruptcy of independent artisans like him. -even.
Of course, since "Kalank" is the kind of film he is – namely a swoony romantic epic that exploits political upheavals solely for their value as obstacles to lovers, stars and others – Zafar has no more personal reasons to despise Dev. The swagger smith is actually the product of the adulterous union between Dev's father Balraj Chaudhry (Sanjay Dutt) and Bahaar Begum (Madhuri Dixit), a courtesan who continues to manage what appears to be a mixed school a opulent edifice about half the size of the Taj Mahal.
Abandoned by both parents, Zafar became a proud rascal who defies an erotic band among the female population of Husnabad. He fights bulls with his bare hands for the sport – one of the film's many excuses for Dhawan to take off his shirt and reveal his well-oiled chest – and longs for an opportunity to take revenge on the Chaudhry family.
The day of judgment comes when Satya (Sonakshi Sinha), Dev's wife, is diagnosed with cancer and chooses to ensure that her husband is cared for after her imminent death. Thanks to a carefully calibrated mixture of supplications and bribes, she convinces the beautiful Roop (Alia Bhatt) to become Dev's second wife – in the mid-1940s, the opening titles inform us usefully, Polygamy was legal in India – so that it could less entail its own replacement. From the beginning, however, Dev insists that, even though he respectfully respects Roop, he does not intend to consummate their marriage. This gives Roop more time than necessary to take singing lessons at the Bahaar Begum Salon, where, naturally, she captures Zafar's fantasies even before he discovers who she is and what value she can have.
Very little of the following is surprising, and a good deal is silly. Varman, writer-director, seeks to ensure that "Kalank" is more glamorous than a glamorous MGM musical of the time. Everything, from suspected slums to rioters wielding the sword, will look very colorful, not to say beautiful. The romantic chemistry required between Roop and Zafar never really comes into play, partly because Zafar's motivations seem to change arbitrarily from one scene to another, and largely because Bhatt is as bland as Roop. And while it is not unprecedented that violent language and actions are part of a Bollywood musical, the furious chaos of the climax of this particular movie is even more outlandish than usual.
There is really nothing in the "Kalank" parts that make a lot of dialogue, which is as infectiously infectious as the exhilarating performance of a song like "Aira Gaira", an exuberant show who has a delirious young woman (Kriti Sanon) with Zafar and Dev (who do not recognize each other) and a few hundred dancing extras. Indeed, whenever there is a long gap between the big production figures here, you can not help but hope that everyone stops yapping and starts singing and dancing again.
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