Umrao Jaan

Director: J.P. Dutta

Cast: Aishwarya Rai, Abhishek Bachchan, Shabana Azmi, Sunil Shetty, Kulbhushan Kharbanda, Himani Shivpuri, Parikshit Sahni, Maya Alagh, Divya Dutta, Ayesha Julka, Puru Rajkumar

6/10

Just when you’ve had enough of comparing Dons, here comes another hyped remake — oops, ‘adaptation’. Based on Mirza Mohammad Haadi Ruswa’s Urdu novel Umrao Jaan Ada, J.P. Dutta’s film Umrao Jaan sets off a set of predictable questions. Why UJ again? Couldn’t JP find another story to tell? After all, he’s a grand storyteller. Okay, so how much does he take or take-off from Muzaffar Ali’s original film — sorry, ‘version’? And most importantly, can Aishwarya measure up to Rekha’s National Award-winning performance?

But is it fair to compare? Well, we can’t help it, because images of dusky Rekha as beautiful courtesan and budding, brooding poet are etched in our nostalgic hearts, her mujras still happening before our mind’s eye and the ghazals ringing in our ears as memories of a memorable film.

Umrao Jaan is about a courtesan’s tragic, ironic life set in mid-late 19th century Lucknow and gives us a glimpse into that era and ethos — Avadh’s colourful kotha-culture of music, dance, sher--shaayari, love, desire and broken dreams, sponsored by decadent nawaabs. But Ali’s film was more milieu-authentic, subtle and classy, whereas JP’s ‘biopic’ is over-the-top and glossy; and totally glamorises the story into a period costume drama using typical idiom and visual aesthetic of mainstream cinema. Where the world of kothas and nawaabs acquires mythological proportions and calendar-art look.

Speaking of looks, Aishwarya as Umrao is stunning. Though her styling is less courtesan and more Mughal princess — surely even the richest tawaaif could never afford such expensive clothes and jewellery! But to be fair, she holds her own despite the burdensome ‘Rekha’ baggage and essays her part charmingly enough for us to sit through an extremely long, languidly-paced film. As Umrao Jaan journeys from little Ameeran of Faizabad to mashoor tawaaif of Lucknow through pathos and sublime pain as expressed/narrated to author Ruswa’s character. And what’s the scene with Ash and Nawaab Sultan Abhishek’s onscreen romance/passion? Well, let’s not go there because their not-so-hot love scenes leave you cold. And even his deep, dark, bedroom eyes cannot melt her ice-blue gaze.

Shabana is brilliant as kotha-owner Khanum Sahib (remember mother Shaukat?). And with her histrionic power compels you to both love and hate her as she plays alternately Umrao’s protector and exploiter. Bollywood veterans .P. Dutta (dialogues), Javed Akhtar (lyrics) and Bijon Dasgupta (sets) lend the film old-world respectability with their respective craft. But Anu Malik’s forgettable music has no period flavour and certainly no shelf life. Only the colloquial Avadhi Vidaai song, Agle janam mohe bitiya na kijo haunts and lingers…. But sadly, JP’s film really doesn’t.

Mandira Mitra