Movie Review: Wazir, Khaike Pawn Chesswaala

Shhh, a quote-room drama’s on. “Zindagi doesn’t give you another chance,” sayeth a venerable sire, “but chess does.”

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Movie Review: Wazir, Khaike Pawn Chesswaala


Shhh, a quote-room drama’s on. “Zindagi doesn’t give you another chance,” sayeth a venerable sire, “but chess does.” 

Wise words those, but instantaneously it’s raining woes. So there you are caught without an umbrella in a chessboard fight in a high-drama which has been extensively photographed by dim light. Hang on tight, then, for Wazir directed by Bejoy Nambiar. And frankly, yaar, the result leaves you quite exhausted. Gripe.



In fact, this killer thriller is crammed with so many goody gum-drop guys bullying beastly bozos, that you’re not sure what’s on the agenda, but for that primitive plan for vendetta. Aaah oh.

Cut rightaway to a sweet septuagenarian (Amitabh Bachchan) who’s confined to a wheelchair. Despair, he suffers from flashbacks about his darling daughter (Fleeting Kumari), plunging fatally down a steep staircase. Now when did you last stare at such nasty stairs? Chances are that it could be during that era when the almost-forgotten Renuka Shahane famously miscalculated her steps in Hum Aapke Hain Koun..! Tragic.

Tragedy dogs an upright anti-terrorist squad officer (Farhan Akhtar), too. Alas, the memories of his deceased daughter  (Smiley Tot) coerce  him to  gnash his teeth to underscore the point that that he’s out to extract a tooth-for-a-molar. It’s as simple as that, no need for anything resembling the bipolar. 



Ergo, in sum  an angry young dad and and angrier old dad are hell-bent to identify the wrongdoers and bash their brains into pulp. Ulp.

Naturally, the Wrong Squad includes a triple faced minister (Manav Kaul), red-eyed rapscallions and mute cops spinning around like non-stop tops. The locations for the virtuous versus the vicious war keep shifting base between New Delhi’s streets, kothis and gardens and when that becomes much too tedious visually, the action jets off to the snowy chill of the Dal Lake, where terrorism, political chicanery and that instinct for khoon ka badla khoon, grant you no option but to break into a blood-curdling swoon.

What’s with the script? Why does it keel over?  Come to think of it, right till the interval, the proceedings are fairly taut, keeping you engrossed at the very least in the intriguing bond which develops between the Angry Old Dad and the Angry Young Dad. Plus, a montage showing genius kids being taught chess is warm as a cashmere sweater. The banter between  Dad Sr and Dad Jr, frequently, brims over with deadly dialoguebaazi. And there’s that retort to the corrupt governmenty types, “Chess is played with elephants and horses, and not dogs like you!” Clap, clap. 



Obviously, there isn’t much which can be done beyond a point with banter and sporadic bouts of bang-bangs. Clearly, the dramaturgy runs out of fuel, wrapping up the sound and fury in a tearing hurry. Scurry. The body count multiplies. If a political sub-text – on the spectre of terrorism -- was intended it falls by the wayside. Like it or not, there are some stray déjà vu elements already evidenced last year in Sanjay  Gupta’s Jazba. Tsk.

Be that as it may, towards the latter-half, Dad Jr’s melancholic wife (Aditi Rao Hydari) perks up and even threatens to break into a kathak ballet, which she doesn’t. For the supposedly winning move, there’s a classic twist in the plot which might leave you with a mind-fracture. Spoiler non-alert: suffice it to say it’s something of a cop-out.



The tempo at several junctures slackens because of the overemployment of music tracks in the background score. Needless to bemoan, you do miss the brilliant technique Nambiar has exhibited in his off-the-wall Shaitaan and David. He’s far too staid and conventional here, the sole exception being a desperate run by the ATS officer down Delhi’s traffic-clogged roads.

Of the acting crew, Ms Hydari, and John Abraham as well as Neil Nitin Mukesh in mushroom-sized guest appearances, are squandered. Farhan Akhtar is just about serviceable, relying far too much on stagey facial expressions (that teeth-gnash for anger, frown for irritation and a beatific look for everything else).



Manav Kaul could have been the show’s surprise packet, as menacing as Gabbar Singh initially, but he can’t really scale a peak because of his underwritten role. In the event, Amitabh Bachchan is the thriller’s sole saviour, mercurial and beguiling as ever. Chak de Bachchan!

Image Source: hdwallpapersz &  facebook/OfficialWazirTheFilm