Director Vishal Bharadwaj is a cruel man. Nothing else explains his decisions in Rangoon. For instance, he’s given Saif Ali Khan’s character a wooden hand. Consequently, how can one not observe that the only thing more wooden than that artificial hand is Khan’s performance? As if it wasn’t bad enough, Khan’s wooden hand also has a button that makes the artificial fingers extend spontaneously – it’s like the starting point of Iron Man’s suit.

Khan’s not the only one who has to face the brunt of Bharadwaj’s sense of humour. Considering the mask that Julia wears and her train stunt (which has a marked resemblance to this one), it seems one of the inspirations for Kangana Ranaut’s Julia is Hrithik Roshan. Leaving those two details aside, Julia is most reminiscent of Satine from Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge. There are also hints of Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds (particularly in the white nawab who is the arch villain of Rangoon) and at one point, this critic found herself remembering Man on Wire.

If Bharadwaj has watched these films and intentionally included their elements in Rangoon, someone needs to stop him from watching Hollywood movies. They’ve pushed him out of his comfort zone of rustic north India and into a more urbane, theatrical world. The result is not impressive.  

In Rangoon, Bharadwaj has experimented with setting, tone, cinematography, sound design and storytelling. Sometimes, the results are beautiful, like the way he’s used the percussion of the train’s motion in “Tippa” (listen to the few seconds of ‘silence’ approximately a minute into the song). There is almost an operatic quality in the lavishness that marks every frame of this obviously-expensive film. It’s rich in colour and detailing, fabricating for the viewer a 1943 that isn’t even remotely realistic, but feels credible. As pretty as all this and the actors in the shots may be, cinematography and production design can only go so far. At some point — especially when a film is 167 minutes long — one must pay attention to plot.

The year is 1943. Miss Julia (Ranaut) has a super hit film to her name. Her lover and film producer Russi Billimoria (Khan) enjoys a cordial relationship with the British and having Julia on his wooden arm. When Major General Harding (Richard McCabe) decides Julia should entertain the Indian troops on the eastern front, Julia meets Nawab Malik (Shahid Kapoor).

It’s a long journey from Mumbai and on the way, the Japanese attack. Julia and Nawab are separated from the rest of the company. As anyone who has seen Rangoon‘s trailer will have guessed, the two roll around in mud and fall in love. They don’t seem to be particularly good at kissing, which may be why they keep doing it. After all, practice makes perfect. There’s an alternative universe in which Julia and Nawab make your skin prickle with delicious anticipation just by the way they look at each other and when they lock lips, you don’t reflexively pat your own to make sure they haven’t been smashed to paste the way Ranaut and Kapoor’s must have been at the end of each kissing shot.

When Julia and Nawab find their way back to British India, Russi realises Julia is attracted to Nawab, and he is not amused. Even less amused is Harding, who realises there’s an Indian National Army mole in his entourage.

Sidestepping the naiveté that characterised the alliances that Subhash Chandra Bose made with Japan and Germany, Bharadwaj presents us with two kinds of nationalism. There’s the brand that the British demand from their Indian subjects — a loyalty to the nation that exists as a British colony. The other is what Bose’s Indian National Army promotes: a love for an idea of a nation that is yet to be realised. It’s a dream, wrapped up in poetry and the melody of Rabindranath Tagore’s “Jana Gana Mana”. This is one of the few interesting ideas in Rangoon and is timely, considering the performances of patriotism that are expected from us when we go to watch films. What exactly is the India to which you’re showing allegiance when you stand up for the national anthem? The one that is responsible for the depressing headlines we see or one that we create out of our imaginations, which are being fed by the images and ideas we’re shown on screen?

Unfortunately, Bharadwaj is more concerned with spending Viacom 18’s money on filming in gorgeous but remote locations, and creating exotic sets. As far as the plot is concerned, much pivots upon an enormous trunk that would give The Luggage of Discworld a run for its money in terms of survival skills. Bombs can’t destroy this trunk. Being swept away by a river won’t make it lose its way. It’s basically indestructible.

There’s also a plot involving an heirloom that we’re told can be sold to raise money. As fundraising ideas for a secret army go, this one’s pretty idiotic since one would imagine that news of a precious and unique heirloom in the black market would travel swiftly to the police, and thus alert authorities. But logic is not something Rangoon bothers with much. This is possibly why a bamboo bridge that has been partially blown up by an anti-aircraft missile can still hold Khan’s weight on a single pole of burnt bamboo. Or how Julia is able to pull off a dangerous rescue by copying the stunt she’s seen in a film (starring Khan’s Russi, naturally). And you thought commercial films aren’t educational. If Bharadwaj is to be believed, they saved the INA.      

Aside from being too long and too silly, Rangoon disappoints because it’s such a waste of talent. Bharadwaj has given us films like Maqbool, Omkara and Dedh Ishqiya. He can tell stories — and love stories in particular — way better than this. The less said about the soundtrack, the better. Rangoon has the distinction of being a Bharadwaj film without a single earworm-worthy melody.

On the acting front, Kapoor manages to smear his face with mud for much of the film, which may be to disguise the fact that he has one, single expression for most of the film. Khan’s performance as Russi proves Langda Tyagi was an exception. Ranaut gamely flits between bimbo and bandit queen, but it’s an unconvincing performance and Matthew Robbins’s writing doesn’t help. Still, Ranaut is more watchable than her co-stars. Also wasted are Atul Kumar and a clutch of excellent actors from Mumbai’s theatre crowd.

Despite all the talent involved in the film, Rangoon is a bland and mediocre film that is eminently forgettable. That is perhaps the biggest disappointment of the film. By the time you’ve made your way out of the theatre, not a second of its 167 minutes will linger in your mind.
Bloody hell.