An Jo on PK

The striking evidence of the fact that Hirani demotes technological prowess/progress in cinema and elevates the basic function of cinema as a story-telling art-form is evident ironically in the introduction scene of Aamir Khan emerging from a space-ship that unmistakably looks like a toy that one’s nephew or niece would gloat over at a Black Friday sale. And this is how the ‘old’ school of cinema functioned; allowing technology in aiding the narrative rather than over-whelming it. And Hirani continues that in the middle-class mould of Hrishikesh Mukherjee, Basu Chatterjee, K. Balachander, or, even to an extent, dare I say, Ray.

In essence, Hirani’s social satire is aimed at the cult of God-men cropping up in India cashing in on the depressing and fear-filled societally-stamped lives of Indians which he had briefly hinted at in ‘Lage Raho Munna Bhai’ with the ‘mangalik’ plot. He does—like Karan Johar in the politically manipulated ‘My name is Khan’— cunningly use a very convenient framing-device for an out-worldly character trying to reach his other-worldly home to critique the concept and businesses of ‘organized’ religion. Through an ‘extraneous’ character named PK, he taunts the existing – genuine or fake—system of God-men and their sometimes gullible or/and non-gullible disciples/followers. He succeeds in the majority part of the film – albeit with a few wrinkles.

Hirani and Abhijat Joshi display a remarkably acute ‘social-observation’ quotient in PK. There are razor-sharp metaphors to how a human stops from slapping another being just because of an image of God adhered to the cheeks while doing all things even criminally-unimaginable right under the invisible noses of the divine form/s; or how Gandhi’s [the Mahatma I mean, not Sonia] value is dramatically increased or decreased depending on where or what his image is printed on; or the act of ‘stealing’ foot-wear right after praying to God in his ‘abode.’ There are many well-written scenes like these that brighten this movie and seem to shadow some parts that are under-whelming. Aamir comes naked onto this earth like a child devoid of ‘learnt’ emotions – good or bad – and goes back fully clothed, taking with him some knowledge added to his being and some deducted that he acquired before from his other-world years. One can infer Aamir’s ‘other-world’ as simply a ‘utopian’ existence since one doesn’t need to dress or lie and just ‘dance’ away one’s worries there. Well, this is in fact all we earthlings are yearning for in today’s frenetically paced life! The mis-used ‘holy’ bead in PK could be a metaphor for any of the mis-representations of our society – that of the Jihad, that of covert-conversions, or that of superstitions resulting from blind-worshipping.

The first-half is more of a basket of gag-filled social stings while the second half converges toward social-critique infused dramedy. Anushka Sharma carries off her role with a fine balance of perkiness and constraint. Irani doesn’t have much to do but impresses in the scenes as the trident-pinched media-boss. Shukla is delightful as the deceitful God-man gasbag. He takes his repertoire of arguably being the finest actor to play character-driven roles in the industry today – carrying on the mantle of Anupam Kher and Paresh Rawal – adding this role to his rich collection of accomplishments as the police-man in ‘Barfi’ and the judge in ‘Jolly LLB.’ Dutt is quite likeable in a brief cameo. Sushant Singh is okay and not some wonderful actor that he is made out to be.

However, this movie is not all smooth and does bump onto some ‘craters’. The movie suffers from confusion whether it is attacking the ‘businesses’ of religion or the rituals by and of themselves. On the one hand, it takes on the Hindu ritual-rolling, the Shiite’s chest-beating, self-flagellating rituals which actually might not have anything to do with the ‘designs’ of God-men or Mullahs or what have you. These are practices internalized or passed over from generations. When one starts questioning these ‘independent’ of organized religion, any art-work starts treading that thin line between atheism and belief; between scientific thinking and religious interpretations. It is imperative for the benefit of the audience that the author takes it the whole nine yards – or at least try. Since Raju’s art-work is modeled more on Hrishikesh Mukherjee than on Basu Bhattacharya’s ventures, PK doesn’t quite muddy the waters and is quite content on a ‘sanitized’ version of a satire. The musical score is poorer when compared to other Hirani films that can be mentioned as having superior music – only when compared to that of PK!

As is the wont of those who call themselves ‘liberal’ in India, even in Hirani’s world – although, to be fair, Hirani is too much of a gentleman to be labeled a ‘liberal’ – there are false equivalencies of ‘Jihad-induced’ acts of murdering school-girls or the Missionaries’ covert-conversions with a God-man asking a man to make a debilitating trip to Gangtok to pray for the welfare of one’s afflicted spouse or donating 100 rupees for the fraudulent cause of a temple. So a fake God-man here conveniently and quite boldly tells a character not to trust Muslims [he doesn’t say ‘Pakistanis’; it is ‘Muslims’]. Horror of horrors, this God-man even invokes Mohammed of Ghazani as an example of the ‘true’ character of a Muslim! Essentially, the writers Joshi and Hirani try to fit-in all the loony and fringe elements into this character of a fake God-man leaving no distinction between a Satya Sai Baba and a Babu Bajrangi.

Coming back to the performances, this has got to be the best performance of Aamir Khan post ‘Talaash’ – right up-there with his act in’ 1947′, ‘Rangeela’, ‘Sarfarosh’, and ‘Dil Chahata Hain.’ It is a role that has hamming as one helluva bait, but Aamir doesn’t bite it – and he has a tendency to ham quite a bit as proved in Mela and Mangal Pandey— and brings a remarkable balance of goofiness and constraint to his man-child character. Even within the cage of a ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ frame, he unlocks emotions astutely through his body-language. This is a fine performance that reinstates the fact that Aamir continues to remain the only one amongst his peers that has the guts to unshackle himself of the trappings of stardom when required. It might be a shock but I would go on to say—in the context of PK— that Aamir has exorcised himself of the sins of the hideous ‘Dhoom-3′ by cleansing himself in the holy Ganges of Hirani and company!

The writers, in the climactic showdown, arguably employ a dues ex machina in the form of a flash-back that sticks out like a sore-thumb. But PK’s ultimate resignation that the only God he understands is the one that made him is a fine ricocheting of David Mitchell’s quote in ‘Cloud Atlas’: “Truth is singular. Its ‘versions’ are but mistruths.”