The ApunKaChoice movie review of Dishkiyaaoon. Here’s a film to restore some sense of pride to Ram Gopal Varma, the director who spawned the underworld thrillers in late 90s and has been flogging the genre to death till as recently as Satya 2. Dishkiyaoon, directed by first-timer Sanamjit Singh Talwar, is an added scourge to the genre that’s well past its sell-by date.
The movie tells the story of a young man eying the throne of the underworld. Viki Kartoos (Harman Baweja) is the bullet in the chamber. He’s had a scarred childhood. He was bullied in school, he lost his mother when just a kid, while his Gandhian father (Rajit Kapur) spouted to him platitudes of Ahimsa in the name of guardianship. In time, Viki is attracted to the world of crime, where instead of turning the other cheek, one pumps bullets into the guts of one’s oppressor. An eye for an eye. Who gives a fig if it turns the world blind?
Mota Tony (Prashant Narayanan), a lean-as-a-stick ganglord who claims not all in his body is ‘patla’, takes Viki under his wings. Thus starts our angst-ridden hero’s journey into the world of crime and killing.
A good part of Dishkiyaoon is told in flashbacks. Sunny Deol plays a unibrowed oldtimer in the prison with his one arm paralyzed. Viki as his cellmates narrates him his tale.
Now, the question is: will Viki be able to dethrone the Mafioso Khaleefa to become the topmost don of Mumbai. Or is he on a path to destruction.
Director Sanamjit Singh Talwar litters the film with heavy dialogues, some unintentionally funny at times. But he offers little novelty by way of storytelling, save for a twist in the tale’s tail.
But that’s too little too late. By then, you’ve bit the bullet many a time watching Harman Baweja trying too earnestly to look our new angry young man. You’ve grinned and borne the violent orgies and bloodletting that a Bollywood underworld film ostensibly must have to justify the genre. You’ve tsk-tsked Sunny Deol’s Haryanvi accent, pooh-poohed Ayesha Khanna’s attempts at playing the hamming hero’s pretty love interest. You’ve made gratuitous trips to the cafeteria every time a song broke out only to be fleeced for a tray of popcorn and cola.