Thu 27 Jan 2005
Mention Bollywood and most of us will whince like you’ve sucked on a thousand lemons. Because Indian’s expect a bloody lot of entertainment for their Rupee and more dancing that Grease on ecstacy. So Bollywood can seem to be all about camp and all about quantity.
So what happens when Bollywood decide to remake Reservoir Dogs? What about how Indians are not allowed to kiss in movies and random dance routines are imperative? Well remake they have and it works a lot better than you might think.
Kaante is a bit like lengthy, but in many ways, it’s not long enough. Sure, it waters down Reservoir Dogs to an Ma 15+ rating, but at the same time adds a lot more Hitchcock-like suspense and fear into scenes. In a refreshing kind of way, it’s a flashback to violent movies before liberal use of fuck, shit and cunt and pornography (not that I don’t love those things dearly). Far better than any Hollywood remake, it gels its cultural influences to the original storyline that even Tarantino must admire.
Kaante is entirely set in Los Angeles. All the lead actors are Indians, including the ‘Major’ who is trying his best to look like a greying Pacino in ‘Dog’s Day Afternoon’. The characters switch dialogue from Hindi to English with all the fluidity of a Rolls Royce changing gear, which is kind of intimidating when you expect them to sound like Apu off The Simpsons. But this movie potrays that Indian blokes can be your best friend and your worst enemy. Even if you yourself are an Indian.
Friendship and trust are the common threads between the original and this reproduction. The characters don’t take on the ‘Mr Black’, ‘Mr Pink’ or rather aptly ‘Mr Brown’ (which is perhaps why they avoided it) but it’s not long before the characters start talking big time betrayal and treachery to one another. In some ways, you’re more compelled by the Indian villans inquisition for the rat than the original version. There are some absolutely stellar performances.
So what’s retained from the original? We’ll there is a good take on the mystery ending, and they do torture a cop, but no chop-chopping of the ears. Nor my favourite Harvey Keitel ‘let’s go get a Taco’ scene, where Mr Black gives his thoughs on crowd control. I was really pissed about that.
They’ve added at least four dance scenes that involve pole dancers in a strip club, and even in the gangsters’ hide out they do a big dance number without making you want to shoot yourself. It’s actually quite cool. All the Indian chicks are kind of Anglo and put in good performances. But there’s no unrequited lover that dies at the end. Just a stuck up bitch who wants child support and a cancerous leech. So at least there’s a modern slant on the mandatory Bollywood love story.
Instead of a jewelry store being held up, it’s a bank. But a bank where all the cops keep their money, so the security is lax. Unfortunately, the bank shoot-em-up scene is way over the top. More ‘Last Action Hero’ than Tarantino which really licked balls. But it was still enjoyable. After all there are plenty of bright, shiny objects being shot at.
Having lived with Indians for a short tenure, I found the characters pretty real and believable. Although they did try and make them a bit too hip and cool (one character has bleached hair like some surfie twat from Summer Bay) in some sequences. But when it comes to the ‘Who’s the snitch?’ dialogue they’re right on the money and in many ways scarier than Keitel.
In case you’re one of those cheeky buggers who’se scrolled to the last paragraph, it’s worth it. If you’re a truly one-eyed tarantino nut, well you’re not going to enjoy it. But if you’re open minded and can appreciate directors who work within cultural constraints to use other techniques than graphic violence and profanity to compel you, this is the trick. Recommend leaving the missus at home though and putting a few cold ones in the fridge. 7 out of 10. Bloody great flick.