plain bloody awful


this is not mirza ruswa's umrao, this is a third class, hackneyed bollywood version of any generic 'tawaif' story, dont know why they had to go and screw with the classic novel. umrao jaan was a fiery, strong, take-no-prisoners kinda gal. this film turns her into a simpering, lovelorn crybaby of a victim who has no pride in who she is and spends the entire film whining over a dingbat with no personality. and they didnt even bother to retain even 5% of the book's historical and social context. the script sucks, the music sucks, the choreography sucks, the sets and costumes are horrendous, the jewellery loks like plastic costume jewellery, the performances are non-existent with only azmi bothering to at least get the urdu pronunciation right. and oh yes, mirza ruswa is shown as this doddering old man listening to umrao's story, when in fact he was only in his late forties when he wrote the book. did j.p dutta do ANY research at all??
i want those lost three hours of my life back.



Sad Hamlet to Ophelia 'I'll do a sketch of thee, What kind of pencil shall i use?2B, or not 2B'

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got your back on that man! i completely agree with your comments.

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you know what, you're totally right. i read the novel after i saw the movie and there are so few similarities.

also the scene were khanum asks sultan to buy the shawl for her is actually the scene between one of bismillah's lovers and her in the same situation

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here's a review i wrote on it for a magazine:

Umrao Jan
Directed by: J.P. Dutta

Dear oh dear, them Injuns are at it again. Making wholly unnecessary and uncalled for cinematic remakes, that is. After the butchering of Devdas at the hands of Sanjay Leela Bhansali, and the misguided ‘reworking’ of Don by Farhan Akhtar, it is now well-known misogynist filmmaker J.P. Dutta’s turn, and he has a go at an even more sacred cow, namely Mirza Haadi Ruswa’s quasi-feminist courtesan saga Umrao Jan Ada.

Was Dutta under the impression that he could perhaps better Muzaffar Ali’s much loved 1981 adaptation? While that one certainly had its flaws, it’s a flippin’ masterpiece compared to this painfully maudlin version. No, it’s probably much more likely that Dutta thought it would be an easy sell and that too with the (questionable) casting coup of Aishwarya Rai and her real-life squeeze Abhishek Bachchan as the titular heroine and her lost love. Unfortunately, what we get as a result is just what one would expect to emerge from that kind of visionary thinking: an unintentionally hilarious, screamingly inept piece of work that is an unsightly verruca upon the careers of all involved.

Where Ruswa’s (and Ali’s) Umrao was a sensual, fiery creature who took pride in herself and her art (mainly poetry), and knew and used full well the power of her adas and nakhras, Dutta’s heroine (Rai) is a simpering, lovelorn, laughably self-righteous idiot who wallows, nay, exults, in her perceived victimhood – so maddeningly passive that you want to land her a swift kick in that ludicrous mod gharara of hers. Mope much, do you?

Her lover Nawab Sultan (Bachchan) doesn’t fare much better either. The book and the 1981 film painted him as an eager and susceptible green-around-the-gills naïf who admits gauchely that he doesn’t frequent kothas. What we have here is a pseudo-sophisticate, man-of-the-world who might as well be wearing a ‘been there, done that’ t-shirt under his rather ill-conceived achkan. Think Jay Gatsby in a pugree and with no personality.

With the script being what it is – sound, fury, nothing – and the characters robbed of all emotional poignancy, you can pretty much see the actors floundering to keep themselves afloat – a fruitless exercise. The two lead players are pretty but boring and shallow – merely gazing goggle-eyed at each other while spouting supposedly profound declarations of undying love does not a great romance make – all smoke(screen), no fire. The usually delightful Himani Shivpuri as Bua Hussaini is annoying in the role earlier essayed so memorably by the late great Dina Pathak. Shabana Azmi as Khanum Jan, while a notch better than her fellow cast mates, is not a patch on her mother Shaukat who played the same part in the original. Puru Raj Kumar and Sunil Shetty as Gohar Mirza and Faiz Ali respectively, are hopelessly miscast, with Kumar in particular getting a raw deal having been given the unenviable (and insurmountable) task of bettering the fabulous Naseeruddin Shah.

Dutta also manages to make a hash of the film as a period piece with seemingly no research going into the design or look of the film at all. From the garish sets and horrendously filmi choreography, to the ‘what-were-they-thinking?!’ costumes (Bua Hussaini seems to wearing shalwar kameez with court shoes most of the time) and cheap, costume jewellery – it’s all a royal mess, especially when you consider the painstaking detail with which Muzaffar Ali embellished his film. And of course it’s a well-known empirical fact that all kotha inhabitants of Lucknow favoured gilori as their main form of sustenance. At least that’s what the film seems to suggest. It’s a wonder they don’t all die of mouth cancer. And oh yes, Mirza Ruswa is shown as a doddering old man listening to Umrao tell her life story, when in fact he was only in his late forties when he wrote the book. Eyebrows. Raised. Way high.

Criminally, maestro Khayyam’s exquisite and highly revered song score is replaced by the insipid musical stylings of Anu Malik.

But just for a minute, forget the fact that Dutta and co don’t bother to retain even 5% of the story’s historical and social context; forget that they chuck out virtually every element of the book except the characters’ names. Forget even that none of the cast, barring Azmi, can deign to get their Urdu pronunciation right, those dreaded khe and ghain tripping them all up repeatedly. But you can’t overlook that even taken on its own, this is basically a third class, hackneyed Bollywood version of any generic tawaif story (a lousy one at that) with the romance at the heart of it so hollow that it doesn’t even make for a credible love story. Ruswa’s Umrao Jan Ada was the journey of a remarkable woman. J. P. Dutta’s Umrao Jan is a vacuous nautch girl in love.

Mr. Dutta, I would like those lost three hours of my life back.





Sad Hamlet to Ophelia 'I'll do a sketch of thee, What kind of pencil shall i use?2B, or not 2B'

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[deleted]

Devdas was bad? You might want to resign your post as reviewer.

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If you have seen the Dilip Kumar/Suchitra Sen/Vyajanthimala DEVDAS, its a masterpiece.

The only good things about this new one is some fine singing by Shreya Goshal and co., but that does not make a movie.

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I like both versions. The new one is a more contemporary styled devdas, thats all.

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Man, that was a harsh review.

You've made me want to find the older film and the book and read them. Admittedly I only watched the recent movie and found it reasonably good, though a bit drawn out at times, but if you have read the book and seen the older movie, and feel this way, perhaps the book and the older movie are spectacular. This movie reminded me a bit at times of Shyam Benegal's Mandi, although that element was a subplot in this movie. I thought the betrayal, and the scenes at the end where she sees the man who kidnapped here were terrific, but perhaps the older one is better. I saw Train to Pakistan after reading Khushwant Singh's book, and the movie paled in comparison to the book.

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That was excessively harsh. Its not stellar but its not that bad. At least it wasn't a bollywood youth sex romp.

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Just watching it on some channel.I had watched the old Umrao Jaan.I dont like Rekha or Hindi movies...but I liked it. And this one ? I suffer from insomnia and will sleep better tonight, except thinking over the annoying idiocy might keep me up. Oh well... thats mainstream Bollywood with its own version of a period piece.

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