Mumbai-He repairs almost anything, including irreparably damaged relationships. But this film about damaged lives needs no repairing. My Name Is Khan is a flawless work, as perfect in content, tone and treatment as any film can get. The ‘message’ of humanism doesn’t comes across in long pedantic speeches.
The film’s longest monologue has our damaged but exceptionally coherent hero Rizwan telling a congregation of Black American church-goers about his dead son.
And if that moment moves us to tears it’s because the emotions are neither manipulative nor flamboyant. It isn’t because Rizwan’s son Sameer perished in a racial attack. It isn’t even because Shah Rukh Khan delivers his life’s best performance in that moment of reckoning. Rizwan’s heartfelt rhetorics are not about changing the world with words. Born with a physical disability this is a man on the move. And boy, does he move!
In what is possibly the most touching testament on film to the spirit of world peace and humanism (lofty ideals to achieve in the massy-masala format but see how pitch-perfect Johar gets it), Rizwan takes off on a picaresque journey to meet the US President with a message that initially strikes us as being too naïve for reiteration.
But look closer. Some of life’s basic values have been lost in recent times. Writer Shibani Bathija’s seamless screenplay, arguably the best piece of writing since Rakeysh Mehra’s Rang De Basanti, recovers that long-lost message of loving your fellow human being unconditionally without getting trite around the edges.
Sex and politics have nothing to do with it. It’s okay to hug your neighbour.
First and foremost, My Name Is Khan is a wonderful story told with a flair and flourish that leave a lingering impact on the viewer. Almost every frame is composed with a mix of mind and heart creating an irresistible progression of moments so tender and forcible we’re simply swept away in the tides of the tale about a very special man who undertakes a very special journey.
My Name Is Khan opens with Rizwan boarding an American flight being frisked after a suspicious co-passenger hears him chanting religious passages. Before we begin to suspect this to be one more film on the persecution of the innocent Muslim, Karan Johar, doing a smart and slick spin away from his trademark content and style, takes his hero on a journey that crosses several emotional, political and geographical borders before stopping with breathless integrity to say, life doesn’t go on…it changes colours and textures with the moral values that the individual chooses to confer on the life given to him.
Superbly scripted by Bathija with pithy outstanding dialogues by Niranjan Iyenger, the film is edited by Deepa Bhatia with just that much amount of time allotted to the character’s and their thought processes to make them appear warm humane and tangible without over-punctuating their presence.
To take one example, when Rizwan's brother (Jimmy Shergil, making the best of his brief but comprehensive role) quietly tells his lovely wife (Sonia Jehan) to not wear her veil to work in the US because God would understand, the scene with beautiful economy conveys the couple’s mutual empathy and determination to override the hatred outside their home.
Karan Johar, always a master of overstatement, for once holds back. The silences in My Name Is Khan often speak far more eloquently than the spoken words. The relationships that the inarticulate Rizwan forms during the course of his life from child to husband to father to a political individual are contoured with a luminous lack of laboriousness. Whether it’s young Rizwan (played sensitively by Tanay Cheda) and his mother (Zarina Wahab, memorable in her brief appearance) or much later, Rizwan and his step-son (brilliant young discovery Yuvaan Makar), the traditional relationships are done-up in striking but subtle shades. We look at every moment in the film (even the clumsily-done flood sequences) as special because they are part of vision that goes far beyond the real of hop-in-hop-out entertainment.
The director swerves out of his comfort zone without the sound of screechy wheels. Karan Johar’s unconventional take on modern marital mores in Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna faltered due to over-statement. In Khan, he doesn’t try hard. The characters and their predicament, as America gets increasingly suspicious and hostile about the Muslim presence, are portrayed with a lightness of touch that lights up almost every sequence.
Then there is Kajol to provide the kind of natural light to every frame that no amount of artificial light can supplement. As Rizwan’s Hindu wife Mandira, with a smart intelligent son, she has a distinctly secondary role to Shah Rukh Khan. She leaves a lasting impact as a divorcee and later an angry wife and grieving mother, as only Kajol can.
The scenes of courtship between Mandira and Rizwan work so beautifully because of the exceptional chemistry between the two actors. More than a strong political statement and moving message of peace My Name Is A Khan is a love story of a man who can’t express his love through words, only deeds. This is a film that Frank Capra would’ve made if he had lived long enough to see 9/11 happen.
The narration is carpeted with virtues, both invisible and visible. Ravi K Chandran’s cinematography captures the incandescent soul of the pure-hearted protagonist as effectively as the stubbornly unbroken spirit of unknown passersby on the streets of America.
Rizwan, we are told, is petrified of the yellow colour. The offending colour recurs with just a hint of insistence. Rizwan wears shocking pink because he hears Mandira’s buddy (Navneet Nishan) say it suits her. He proposes marriage and sex (in that order) at the most inopportune moments. He suggests Mandira have her dinner when she’s traumatized by grief. He wears his dead son’s shoes as he takes off to meet the President. Rizwan moves by his clock. But his tale is timeless.
Shah Rukh Khan doesn’t PLAY Rizwan. He becomes one with the character’s subconscious, portraying the man and his spirit with strokes of an invisible paintbrush until what we see is what we cannot forget. Undoubtedly this is Shah Rukh’s best performance ever.
This is no ordinary hero. And My Name Is Khan is no ordinary film. Long after the wary-of-physical-touch, Rizwan has finally shaken hands with President Obama, long after the heat and dust of racial and communal hatred has settled down the core of humanism that the film secretes stays with you.
Yes, we finally know what they mean by a feelgood film.
The film’s longest monologue has our damaged but exceptionally coherent hero Rizwan telling a congregation of Black American church-goers about his dead son.And if that moment moves us to tears it’s because the emotions are neither manipulative nor flamboyant. It isn’t because Rizwan’s son Sameer perished in a racial attack. It isn’t even because Shah Rukh Khan delivers his life’s best performance in that moment of reckoning. Rizwan’s heartfelt rhetorics are not about changing the world with words. Born with a physical disability this is a man on the move. And boy, does he move!
In what is possibly the most touching testament on film to the spirit of world peace and humanism (lofty ideals to achieve in the massy-masala format but see how pitch-perfect Johar gets it), Rizwan takes off on a picaresque journey to meet the US President with a message that initially strikes us as being too naïve for reiteration.
But look closer. Some of life’s basic values have been lost in recent times. Writer Shibani Bathija’s seamless screenplay, arguably the best piece of writing since Rakeysh Mehra’s Rang De Basanti, recovers that long-lost message of loving your fellow human being unconditionally without getting trite around the edges.
Sex and politics have nothing to do with it. It’s okay to hug your neighbour.
First and foremost, My Name Is Khan is a wonderful story told with a flair and flourish that leave a lingering impact on the viewer. Almost every frame is composed with a mix of mind and heart creating an irresistible progression of moments so tender and forcible we’re simply swept away in the tides of the tale about a very special man who undertakes a very special journey.
My Name Is Khan opens with Rizwan boarding an American flight being frisked after a suspicious co-passenger hears him chanting religious passages. Before we begin to suspect this to be one more film on the persecution of the innocent Muslim, Karan Johar, doing a smart and slick spin away from his trademark content and style, takes his hero on a journey that crosses several emotional, political and geographical borders before stopping with breathless integrity to say, life doesn’t go on…it changes colours and textures with the moral values that the individual chooses to confer on the life given to him.
Superbly scripted by Bathija with pithy outstanding dialogues by Niranjan Iyenger, the film is edited by Deepa Bhatia with just that much amount of time allotted to the character’s and their thought processes to make them appear warm humane and tangible without over-punctuating their presence.
To take one example, when Rizwan's brother (Jimmy Shergil, making the best of his brief but comprehensive role) quietly tells his lovely wife (Sonia Jehan) to not wear her veil to work in the US because God would understand, the scene with beautiful economy conveys the couple’s mutual empathy and determination to override the hatred outside their home.
Karan Johar, always a master of overstatement, for once holds back. The silences in My Name Is Khan often speak far more eloquently than the spoken words. The relationships that the inarticulate Rizwan forms during the course of his life from child to husband to father to a political individual are contoured with a luminous lack of laboriousness. Whether it’s young Rizwan (played sensitively by Tanay Cheda) and his mother (Zarina Wahab, memorable in her brief appearance) or much later, Rizwan and his step-son (brilliant young discovery Yuvaan Makar), the traditional relationships are done-up in striking but subtle shades. We look at every moment in the film (even the clumsily-done flood sequences) as special because they are part of vision that goes far beyond the real of hop-in-hop-out entertainment.The director swerves out of his comfort zone without the sound of screechy wheels. Karan Johar’s unconventional take on modern marital mores in Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna faltered due to over-statement. In Khan, he doesn’t try hard. The characters and their predicament, as America gets increasingly suspicious and hostile about the Muslim presence, are portrayed with a lightness of touch that lights up almost every sequence.
Then there is Kajol to provide the kind of natural light to every frame that no amount of artificial light can supplement. As Rizwan’s Hindu wife Mandira, with a smart intelligent son, she has a distinctly secondary role to Shah Rukh Khan. She leaves a lasting impact as a divorcee and later an angry wife and grieving mother, as only Kajol can.
The scenes of courtship between Mandira and Rizwan work so beautifully because of the exceptional chemistry between the two actors. More than a strong political statement and moving message of peace My Name Is A Khan is a love story of a man who can’t express his love through words, only deeds. This is a film that Frank Capra would’ve made if he had lived long enough to see 9/11 happen.
The narration is carpeted with virtues, both invisible and visible. Ravi K Chandran’s cinematography captures the incandescent soul of the pure-hearted protagonist as effectively as the stubbornly unbroken spirit of unknown passersby on the streets of America.
Rizwan, we are told, is petrified of the yellow colour. The offending colour recurs with just a hint of insistence. Rizwan wears shocking pink because he hears Mandira’s buddy (Navneet Nishan) say it suits her. He proposes marriage and sex (in that order) at the most inopportune moments. He suggests Mandira have her dinner when she’s traumatized by grief. He wears his dead son’s shoes as he takes off to meet the President. Rizwan moves by his clock. But his tale is timeless.Shah Rukh Khan doesn’t PLAY Rizwan. He becomes one with the character’s subconscious, portraying the man and his spirit with strokes of an invisible paintbrush until what we see is what we cannot forget. Undoubtedly this is Shah Rukh’s best performance ever.
This is no ordinary hero. And My Name Is Khan is no ordinary film. Long after the wary-of-physical-touch, Rizwan has finally shaken hands with President Obama, long after the heat and dust of racial and communal hatred has settled down the core of humanism that the film secretes stays with you.
Yes, we finally know what they mean by a feelgood film.
