Sarbjit starts off with overacting galore, blemished further by director’s shoddy style of depicting frames. You can’t help yourself from falling into pits of instant indifference, the moment songs come into play one after the other. It starts off on a bad foot, there is no doubt about that. But then it takes a pleasant pace, where you actually get to fathom the story of an unfortunate guy muzzled by the grinding gears of countries at war.
FLAWS IN THE DIRECTION OF SARBJIT
There are hundreds of flaws in direction that walk boldly around in prominence. The worst half of it appeared like a comedy movie. You cannot take seriously a character as they deliver detached unfeeling lines. Aishwarya Rai Bachchan is the poorest choice one could make for a movie. She fails to get under the skin of the protagonist, and seems aloof from the gravity of the situation. Screenplay doesn’t have much to offer except for few occasional dialogues that will make you ponder. Like when she drops:
“Where is all the hate coming from?”
BEST BITS OF SARBJIT
The best part, the most sentient part of the movie, however is when Sarabjit, played exceptionally well by Randeep Hooda, meets his entire family for the first time in jail. You cannot stop yourself from breaking down empathizing with the head of a guy parched for years without love. One of the most shattering moments of the flick! Also, when Sarabjit mournfully broods he must have done something terrible to have met such a fate. You can’t help but feel extremely sorry for him. A life lost – as he reflects. Richa Chadha, a brilliant actor, stays overshadowed throughout, under the wraps forever, until one time in the end she tries to image memories from the past by holding Sarbjit’s belongings only to keep them so that he stays around in the house. Powerful stuff!
As you chug down the movie lane further, there is boisterous uproar from Dalbir Kaur (Aishwarya) which becomes impoverished further by the movie’s writing. Terrible I would say as goosebumps fail to register!
At times it becomes akin an Indian TV soap, sometimes even worst. The music department makes a purposeful endeavour to squeeze in a melancholic tone to make everything sound gloomier.
But as you take a good look at it, you have to hand it over to the sister who endures unfettered yet shackled by the plight of his brother. There is so much she does, that is quite relatable of all stuffs, something you would do for your family.
IN NEED OF A BETTER DIRECTOR
All in all you cannot help wonder of ways the movie on Sarbjit could have been better. The real grim feel behind the situation has been obscured profusely to muster out sentience. If only a better director and writer had eyed Sarabjit first!
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