When Amitabh Bachchan Praised Honey Irani’s Work As A Woman Director

The aged but agile doctor swoops up the dying child in his arms and runs through the jungle to the hospital. In the process, he loses his own life. The most memorable moment in Honey Irani’s noble but finally unsuccessful large-screen soap opera reminds you of Dilip Kumar trying to stop vehicles on the road to take his dying wife to the hospital in Yash Chopra’s Mashaal.

Coincidentally, Mashaal too starred Anil Kapoor as Dr. Aakash Sinha, Kapoor puts in an earnest performance. His sequences with his father, played with sophisticated wisdom by the inimitable Amitabh Bachchan, are the muted highlights of the film. The interaction between the two lacks passion. The father-son relationship here is forcefully formal. No hugging and kissing, no tearful declarations of filial passion. Just two dedicated doctors who happen to be father and son, expressing their mutually inclusive nobility in Javed Akhtar’s dialogues with such naturalism, you want to hug the film tight to your heart, give it bonus marks for simply tampering with mainstream conventions.

There’s a lot of gently fluid movement in the first-half where Anil Kapoor serenades Gracy Singh under the benvolently watchful eyes of his father. The second -half with its coiling twisting love triangle, reminiscent of Raj Kumar, Nadira and Meena Kumari’s delicately drawn love triangle in Kamal Amrohi’s Dil Apna Aur Preet Parayi, sounds like an opera sung at a symphony concert.

From the time when the headstrong spoilt rich heiress Sonia Kapoor (Preity Zinta) enters the good –hearted neurosurgeon Aakash Sinha’s life, Honey Irani’s storytelling begins to get progressively inflamed, as though the heart in the first part has been substituted by a sassy all-knowing swagger in the second-half. The let’s-give-the-audience-what-it-expects mood created in the post-interval half after, spoiler alert, the Bachchan character’s abrupt death, signals a strange sort of moral ambivalence in the narration.

Zinta’s out-of-control petulance is weighed against Anil Kapoor and his silently supportive sweetheart-colleague Neha’s subdued wisdom and mature silences. Somehow Sonia’s screams smother the film’s graceful energy, so beautifully contained in the father-son scenes.

In trying to give more, Honey Irani achieves much less than she had set out to. And yet this effectively scripted but incorrectly executed large-screen soap has several vital virtues. For one, it has the guts to smile at its own silliness whenever the quality shows up willy nilly. There’s a scene between the jealous bickering wife Sonia and the boringly noble sweetheart Neha where the former asks the latter to leave town.

“I thought such scenes only happened in Hindi films,” smirks Neha. Though the film has the moral courage to put conventional formulas on its head, it finally rolls back to the position from where the debutante director seemed to recoil. Armaan is finally felled by too many stereotypical characters all clamouring to be noticed by the nebulous strength of their conformity. The intellectualization of age-old formulas doesn’t really work. As the film moves ahead Honey Irani’s vision gets visibly diluted and compromised.

In Preity Zinta’s seduction song, she starts off by mimicking the Celluloid Seductress. But is she different in spirit (not to mention, body) from the creature that she pantomines? Is Armaan really an inverted take on the formulistic baggage of commercial Hindi cinema? That’s the question with which we leave this film which posesses some charm and some annoying qualities.

On the plus side, there are the anguished-filled moments between Akaash who marries money to fulfil his father’s dreams, and the jilted Neha. One particular sequence where the silently recriminating girl sees him at her doorstep after her mother’s sudden death is remarkably implosive. With a more mature experienced and graceful actress than Gracy Singh playing Neha, the triangle would have been more fulfilling. The other performances are far more accomplished. Anil Kapoor uses his artless charms to portray a man who suffers for his nobility.

Preity Zinta is a surprise. Her role would have been played by one of the notorious vamps in the 1960s and 70s. She plays the hyper-strung woman with spunk and her farewell , “Sorry” to the man she wronged by marrying him, wrenches your heart. But you wish Zinta would avoid her habitual giggle and eye-rolling mannerisms.

And it’s good to see Randhir Kapoor back, playing the uni-dimensional vulgar-rich tycoon. He should do this more often.

As usual the film finally belongs to the mighty Bachchan. As the father of the pride, he brings a tender affection into his fairly-humdrum role. Whether teasing or agonizing he’s a pleasure to watch. This, alas holds true of the film partially only. Armaan could have been a far better film if it wasn’t so fixated on being a proper mainstream entertainer. Honey Irani needed to loosen up her vision, and to open up the theme. In the absence of an unfettered spirit Armaan oscillates uncomfortably between a large-screen soap opera and an affectionate tribute to the dedication and devotion associated with the medical profession, not to mention the cinematic Eternal Love Triangle.

Amitabh Bachchan was hung-ho about Armaan. “It’s a very gracious film. It conveys very dignified feelings. There aren’t exorbitant histrionics and other loud ingredients from commercial cinema. Even though Armaan is a complete entertainer it’s done in a dignified manner. The situations aren’t exaggerated. The characters are quite real. We were all given the opportunity to work in the realm of reality. That, and the fact that a lady, Honey Irani directed the project made it so exciting. There were so many young ladies working on the sets. Just watching them work in a such a professional atmosphere was a wonderful experience. Honey’s production unit is exemplary. This is the way to make a film.”

Everyone was talking about the mega-star’s silver-haired look in Armaan. “The director wanted it. I do what I’m told. I was pretty comfortable with any look. For Raj Santoshi’s Khakee, I shaved off my beard. It’s okay. Not a big deal.Anil Kapoor and I worked together for the first time. We have some wonderful scenes together. Very soft and endearing moments…All of us had a great time bonding on the sets.”

AB was all praise for the first woman director in his career. “Honey Irani came so well prepared. Everything Was well worked out in advance. Being a woman director does make a difference. You won’t find a blood- curdling action scene in Armaan. Obviously the temperament of the film is commensurate with the feminine gaze. That apart the whole working atmosphere—the sync sound, a hardbound script, dates, even shot divisions worked out well in advance—was outstanding. The actor didn’t have to worry about ringing mobiles and other distractions on the sets. I just had to act. Everything from rehearsal to continuity was taken care of. I just had to come on the sets and deliver the dialogues. I can’t tell you how gratifying this experience was for me. If there’s any reason to work in an international film it’s to experience the professionalism that I did during Armaan. Do you know, every schedule of mine finished ahead of time? The producer saved so much time energy and money. We finished Armaan in four months. That’s how movies must be made.”