Janardhan Jhakad wants to be a musician and a legendary one at that. While his talent is unmistakable, his music has neither soul nor passion in it. His friend/manager muses that unless he experiences pain and tragedy, his music will never have the necessary fuel to rise above the ordinary. Janardhan/Jordan sets out to seek heartbreak - and finds it in spades. He loses most everything that he takes for granted – family, livelihood, love – and, in one touching scene, realises that music alone is his salvation if he chooses to give it his all. Yet, when he fulfills his dream, he also realizes that he would give up everything in the blink of an eye for love.
Rockstar aims to be a blend of a love story and a look at what drives talent to succeed and get enmeshed in the trappings of success. The first half takes a look at how Jordan finds his muse and sets about on his calling. The second half is a chaotic mess as we watch how he copes with loss and sorrows, even as his star is on the rise.
It is difficult to reconcile the boy who has known rejection and privation with the rockstar who repeatedly looks a gift horse in the mouth. Sure, human beings are complex characters, yet here we are not treated to sensitive insights on why this man is so. Jordan doesn’t mature over the better part of three years or come to terms with life and too often he resorts to venting his frustration through being rude, violent and destructive. Yet, the lingering question is - does the pain experienced at being unlucky in love truly warrant such a crude display of bad-boy behavior? One too many times we are left with the feeling that a silly, self-centered, rebel-without-a-cause, man-child is posing for the cameras.
The pain he feels doesn’t appear to translate into markedly better music or better writing either. We think of him as less of a musical genius and more of a well marketed artist. As the music company owner declares, ‘image’ matters more than talent, and Jordan’s fame is fed by photo shoots and media coverage of his ‘rebellious’ behavior.
The female lead, Heer is meant to be the epitome of femininity and passion. She comes across as parasitic, selfish, bored and under sexed. The antics that appear quirky, free spirited and rebellious for a college girl simply appear weird for a, presumably happily, married woman. We are not given to understand what exactly she is looking for and why she re-bonds with Jordan who is boorish and earthy when compared to her suave, affluent, understanding husband. If she seeks him out for his ardor, she has few qualms about letting him go and getting on with her life. Effectively, she seems to be looking to have the best of both worlds – hardly an ideal muse for a sweeping love story.
The reason the script begets a deeper look is due to Imtiaz Ali’s name being attached here. He has proven himself to be adept at delivering fresh, intelligent, commercial cinema with well fleshed characters. Here he chooses to ride on the goodwill he has garnered till date by filming a patchy, uneven script populated with unlikable people who are difficult to empathize or sympathize with.
For a musical, the score is a major disappointment. Except for the epic ‘Sadda haq’ the other songs are forgettable.
Nargis Fakhri is lovely, but she is no actress. She must be fortune’s favourite child since there can be no other explanation for her landing the lead role in the face of all the home grown talent that can act in circles all around her.
Ranbir Kapoor is a revelation. He switches between shy, charming, dashing, rebellious, arrogant, spoilt, petulant and charismatic at the drop of a hat. This is his show all the way because Imtiaz Ali mislaid his thinking cap somewhere.
Considering the quality of talent attached to this movie, this was a potential classic in the making. Ideally it should have been a unique affair that could hold its own, anywhere and anytime; it feels immensely disappointing to recommend this movie only because it is a better film when compared to the stuff churned out recently.
