NAYAK
Cast Anil Kapoor, Rani Mukherjee, Pooja Batra, Amrish Puri, Paresh Rawal, Johnny Lever
Director Shankar
Is Nayak really the real hero? He sure is. What else can you call a character who, in the course of three hours or so, mutates from an ordinary TV cameraman to a crack news reporter to an incorruptible Mr Clean who is catapulted to the post of Chief Minister for a day to an invincible Bionic Messiah to God on earth and finally, in the abrupt climax, to a politician who plays a bit of a dirty trick to physically exterminate a particularly nasty rival. If that sounds breathless, it's perfectly in the fitness of things. For Nayak is just that: breathless.
It's not breathless quite in the manner in which crooner Shankar Mahadevan was in one of his hit pop numbers. That would have been fine. It's breathless in the way a bloke would be if he'd been running for hours without knowing where he is going. That is precisely the state Shankar finds himself in. Yes, he's the thirty-something gentleman who has scripted and directed this high-pitched tirade against the entire political establishment.
The intention is good no doubt, but the execution is infinitely worse than what the politicians have reduced India to — a complete mess. Wonder why the Tamil original, Mudhalvan, was such a commercial success? It is one thing being tired of the shenanigans of politicians, quite another being ready to lap up any mindless concoction that is palmed off as a critique of the corrupt ruling class.
The trouble with Nayak, apart from the sheer implausibility of its central premise, is that it insists on raving and ranting when all that the oft-repeated theme demanded was a quiet, introspective, trenchant inquisition. Every character speaks at the top of his voice and the background score is an assault on the ears. The hero, even after he has been voted to the Chief Minister's chair, continues to conduct himself like a common goon, grappling with the baddies in a mud-pit and fighting a ruffian atop running buses. Looking for logic? Go see another film.
Nayak is Shivaji Rao (Anil Kapoor), a television cameraman. On the day of a transport strike, he carries a seriously injured, profusely bleeding student to a hospital in the nick of time. The boy's life is saved. Shivaji's impressed employer promotes him to the post of senior news reporter. His first assignment: an interview with the chief minister, Balaji Chauhan (Amrish Puri). Shivaji goes hammer and tongs at the politician, peeling off his mask, layer by layer. The angry CM challenges Shivaji to take his place for only a day. He does — and all hell breaks loose.
Politician-bashing, if presented well, can be a lively sport. In Nayak, it isn't. It is the kind of film where the backdrop is Maharashtra, the songs sound south Indian (A.R. Rahman is a huge letdown here) and the dances look suspiciously like bhangra. In short, Nayak is a patchwork that's neither pretty nor useful.