Curse of the comeback? Part four of five: Karisma Kapoor in “Dangerous Ishhq” (2012)

This is part four of a five part series looking at whether heroine-oriented comebacks are doomed to fail.

Karisma Kapoor’s comeback film, 2012’s “Dangerous Ishhq” is unfortunately considered among the most disastrous in terms of being a box office disappointment and being poorly received by the critics.

“Dangerous Ishhq”, an epic romance with an added fantasy / multi-narrative twist around the theme of reincarnation reminds of one of the most recent box office disappointments, last month’s “Mirzya”. Whilst “Mirzya” saw the debut of two young actors – another star kid from the “other Kapoor family”, Harshvardhan Kapoor, and Tanvi Azmi’s niece Saiyami Kher, “Dangerous Ishhq” marked the return to films of the actress renowned for performances in films such “Raja Hindustani”, “Dil To Pagal Hai”, “Zubeidaa” and “Fiza” after almost ten years away.

Coincidentally, one of Karisma’s films released just prior to her sabbatical from films was the heroine-oriented film “Shakti: The Power”, which whilst commercially unsuccessful, received critical acclaim, was produced by Sridevi, and was originally set to be Sridevi’s comeback vehicle and would have marked a return after a five-year hiatus for the actress. Instead, Sridevi returned 10 years later with 2012’s “English Vinglish”, a choice that proved much more fruitful for Sridevi than Karisma Kapoor’s vehicle released in the same year, “Dangerous Ishhq”.

Here is the usual SPOILER warning – so please watch the movie if you intend to first (there are still enjoyable elements) and come back, or you will be spoiled. The trailer is below:

So what actually works about “Dangerous Ishhq”?:

Karisma still looks stunning on camera, she has not lost her star quality despite years away from movies:

In “Dangerous Ishhq”, Karisma’s character Sanjana is introduced to us as the audience as walking the ramp at a Manish Malhotra fashion show – the epitomy of glamour. We quickly understand she is involved with one of the men watching on the front row, Rohan, and that she is set to go off to Paris for a year as a result of her modelling success.

The premise is actually an interesting one, with huge scope for storytelling:

The concept of a love so epic it is throughout generations of reincarnated souls – allows for an exploration of the meaning of a soulmate, a thoroughly romantic concept, but brings in space for period drama, action (given these romances all face a common foe and end tragically) and spirituality, and allows for costume and set design from a range of different periods and locales.

This, perhaps unsurprisingly, leads to the past life storylines exceeding the present day storyline in terms of their ability to capture the interest and attention of the audience. On the other hand, if one particular storyline doesn’t interest as much an individual viewer, there is soon to be another one. The layers of each storyline demonstrating the inseparability of the two romantic leads also has potential to convince (which unfortunately doesn’t fully deliver), if there are character traits that are seen throughout and that link one lifetime to the next.

The dynamic between Jimmy Shergill’s character (ACP Singh) and Karisma’s (Sanjana in the contemporary timeline) is more interesting than hers with Rohan:

We are first introduced to Jimmy Shergill’s character after Rohan’s been kidnapped, as Sanjana returns to the apartment and meets ACP Singh.

The kidnapper calls and his father answers and asks to speak to Rohan, who briefly comes on the line, who is of course only concerned about Sanjana’s wellbeing. The kidnapper lists his demands, which includes a 50 crore ransom, beyond what the family has to pay. Following this – we hear a scream of “Dad!” and a gunshot, to everyone’s panicked reaction. Sanjana questions the risk associated with ACP Singh’s negotiating tactics. Rohan’s father however is not interested in her input, and dismisses her as unimportant and unsubstantive due to her career as a model. Karisma as Sanjana is convincingly hurt by this, but the background music distracts from this well-played low-key pain.

Sanjana later reports to ACP Singh, claiming she has seen the face of the kidnapper. They draw up a sketch of Arif as the main suspect (did Sanjana not have to give some explanation of where she had seen him?).

The kidnapper rings again and arranges the money drop and exchange.

ACP finally asks Sanjana where she saw Arif’s face (yay!), and he reports no individual has been found in police records worldwide (a dubious claim to be so sure of so quickly, globally, for what is only a sketch). Sanjana flatly explains she “went for a past life regression” and that she only saw him in her past life. He is quite understandably flummoxed.

Sanjana joins ACP Singh who is following a lead on Rohan’s whereabouts. The lead eventually turns out to be a trap. Even when this is clear – our slow-on-the-uptake Sanjana runs INTO the building, and ignores pleas to leave and that it’s a trap.

The movie gets better as we have the first real twist and also sign of Sanjana’s smarts. She works with ACP Singh and manages to trick Rohan’s brother Rahul into thinking he’s speaking with the kidnapper on the phone about the drop-off, and we see her walk out at the drop-off point playing a recording of the conversation.

Whilst Rahul is denounced for his involvement in the kidnapping, his reaction is to insist ACP Singh can’t prove anything. Sanjana attacks him and demands answers – but this quickly becomes a useless endeavour as she is distraught rather than demanding. She simply wants to know his location (and not why his brother would do this, who the kidnapper is etc.). Her impassioned plea does lead to Rahul revealing he doesn’t know Rohan’s location, but that “Mittal” does.

They visit the company of M.M. Mittal. Mittal explains he was propositioned by another man to conspire in kidnapping Rohan and calls the number the man gave him. We cut to a song, which seems oddly positioned here, supposedly as they are entering a club with a singer performing there, but the track and picturization is relatively enjoyable (the miming back-up dancers add a peculiarity that it would have been good to see more throughout the film):

The rouse attempted by Mittal meeting with the kidnapper to try to ascertain Rohan’s location fails, and a shoot-out begins. Sanjana is just shown sitting and reacting to this. Her character’s passivity almost reaches another level here until she finally decides to drive the car off, and then knock over the kidnapper. They are given a destination after ACP Singh shoots him in the foot, and threatens to shoot him again.

As they go to the site, we see Sanjana with gun in hand but she remains passive and does nothing with it. We first see Rohan again strapped to a bomb, with just over a minute left. Again she just pleads to ACP Singh to diffuse the bomb. Is he a bomb diffusal expert now? Where’s SRK when you need him?

ACP Singh pulls away Sanjana at the last moment on Rohan’s request after he says the bomb can’t be diffused. The bomb goes off and Sanjana grieves.

The second half of the film is better than the first, and the ending more or less delivers:

Sanjana has a final past life regression as she hears someone calling “Paro”:

Love and reunification are not related to life and death

And not to the body

Open the door, Paro.

You’re listening to your mind but not your conscience

Her final past life regression is to Chittorgarh, Rajasthan in 1535. The Rajput military commander Durgam wants to make Karisma’s Paro his wife, but she is underinterested. He remains persistent and put this down to his “stubbornness”. Paro pull out a dagger and threatens him in return:

Paro: If it’s stubbornness, Durgam

Then you better understand one thing

This maid’s loyalty lies with the kingdom of Chittaur

I swear on my motherland

[puts the knife to her vein]

Paro can cut off her hand and give it to you.

But you can never have her.

Where is this spunk in her later incarnation as Sanjana?

Durgam seeks the help of a medium called Mantra, and Paro tries to stop her love Raj Dutt, from seeking to protect her from Durgam, putting himself in danger in the process. Raj Dutt proposes to Paro and she accepts.

Durgam learns of this and has Raj Dutt captured. Paro pleads to Durgam to free Raj Dutt and settle his enmity with her, rather than her love. Durgam says he will free Raj Dutt if she succumbs to him, and soon we see Paro arrive at his chamber as ordered.

Paro: You don’t have the power to bind anyone

I’ve set myself free from this life

From this body

Her nose begins to bleed and Durgam rushes towards her, shouting her name. She continues:

You were adamant on having this body

And I was adamant on saving this soul.

I swallowed poison to save myself from being tainted

Durgam: What have you done?

What have you done?

Paro: I could’ve died far away from here

But the satisfaction of seeing defeat in your eyes

I wouldn’t have witnessed that

I’m leaving, Durgam

And your defeat will make you restless all your life

Durgam brings Paro’s body to Mantra, who is scared of the consequences as we see a scene between Paro and Krishna devotee Meera, who advises Paro to go through with the suicide, as she and Raj Dutt will have a chance at happiness in a future incarnation if they are truly soulmates.  Meera promises to pray that Paro and Raj Dutt will be born again in the same lifetimes, and equally, when one dies, so will the other.

Durgam refuses to accept defeat – he promises that if both Paro and Raj Dutt are reborn in the same lifetimes, so must he. He pleads for the strength to separate them from one lifetime to the next. He asks Mantra to ensure he is able to remember his past lives in future incarnations so he can carry out this task to ensure they never have a happy ending, and that his face changes with each life.

I would have perhaps started the film with this past life – and framed the plot as to see Sanjana running against time to defeat Durgam’s present day incarnation.

At this point, Paro has awoke to witness this, although we are to learn this is actually Sanjana as Paro, as we return to the present day. Sanjana has understood all of the reasons behind her loss, and we see her return to the hospital where she declares to Neetu that Rohan must be alive, as she still is.

She tries to explain the same to ACP Singh and they return to the bomb site to find Rohan. Inside, we see Sanjana being shot,

ACP Singh is shown shooting in response as Neetu rushes towards an injured Sanjana. Two individuals are shown in the distance, but the pair decide instead to take Sanjana to hospital. She dies in surgery after conceding defeat once again in this lifetime.

We next see Rohan still alive, but to be “left to his fate”, as a voice says that as Sanjana is dead, he is doomed to die also.

Sanjana’s voice is heard as the modern day incarnation of Durgam is revealed.

Sanjana: You are wrong ACP Singh.

Paro is absolutely fine.

And she won’t let anything happen to Raj Dutt.

We are shown proof that ACP Singh is Durgam and his other interfering incarnations as the mark left by Mantra remains despite a new face each time. The scene in which Rohan’s death was faked is also shown in a flashback scene.

ACP Singh wrestles the gun from the police officer, and points it at Sanjana’s face, insisting he has the upper hand as unlike her, he will remember all this in the next lifetime. He is about to shoot Rohan and he is shot in the back. As he falls, we see it is Sanjana who shot him (!). She shoots him again, and again, and again, and again, as we see flashbacks to their deaths in each past life.

We then see the condition to the curse – if Durgam dies before Paro and Raj Dutt, the curse is over.

Sanjana rushes towards Rohan and releases him – and the camera is on Karisma’s face as she embraces Rohan and tears roll down her face. End film.

What doesn’t work – and should have been done differently:

Sanjana and Rohan’s romance gives an air of immaturity – and as such superficiality. Whilst this might be believable for teens, it seems dubious for accomplished professional adults without any background to justify this interdependency between the two of them:

Right at the beginning of the film, Rohan is aggrieved Sanjana is taking the overseas career opportunity she has been given and accuses her of “forgetting” him as she discusses the practicalities of getting to Paris. Instead they decide to pretend as though it’s a normal day and she isn’t leaving at all. This relationship rubs off as sickly sweet, and hardly seems believable.

Given their relationship, Sanjana decides not to go to Paris after all (given the wealth we are shown they possess, is it inconceivable that he could join her in Paris, if they are so inseparable?). The whole thing seems superbly dramatic very quickly, with the foundations for this epic romance not yet established.

They decide to get married and we learn that Sajana and her mother are estranged (something which is a total red herring and never followed up on).

The drama of the break in and kidnapping comes too early in the film, with no real set up. This fails to shock, and instead seems out of place and ill-fitting with what has proceeded:

Their relationship bliss discussing how they will raise their future children is broken as strange men enter their home and start shooting. They target Rohan and manage to kidnap him, despite a gallant effort trying to fight off multiple men (who are, as already mentioned, armed). Sanjana just stands there in shock, eventually screaming and trying to pull them away from him with little success. A smarter and more resourceful Sajana would be more appealing here, for example looking for a makeshift weapon and trying to attack one of the men with this. Instead she hits her head and falls to the floor, losing consciousness.

As she comes to, she’s already in hospital. Exploring the empty hospital, she hears someone calling out for “Gita”. She sees it’s a bearded and badly injured Rohan who repeats “they’re going to kill us”, after which she sees a raging, armed mob. She hides them both from the mob.

She then seems to return the normal reality we had established earlier – the mob and the injured Rohan are gone, and she sounds and seems delusional. She is brought back to her senses when she is told that Rohan has been kidnapped.

The background music in “Dangerous Ishhq” is distracting, and doesn’t allow for layered acting performances:

Many a film can tend to overuse music in order to signal to the audience how it is supposed feel in a certain scene, without needing to rely on the script and performances.

This technique was adopted in many a 90s Hindi film – notably when Karisma made herself a star. Arguably this trend has reduced in more recent films, with some notable exceptions. This makes the film seem dated as a result, and doesn’t help Karisma or any of the cast in fact in terms of allowing them bring the audience with them through their acting, and forces a certain mood or ambience onto a particular scene, with limited scope for layered performances.

The film’s supernatural elements are played very matter of fact in almost all parts of the film, and could have been built on further and seen the film adopt a more parallel cinema style or approach:

As Sanjana experiences her first past life regression, she hears someone calling “Gita” and opens the door to find another time and place on the other side. In this fantasy world, Sanjana as Gita is able to read Urdu.

Back in the modern day, her friend Neetu calls her to and we see her crouched in the hallway outside her apartment, and the newspaper she was holding and reading from is thin air. She tells Neetu she can read Urdu, and Neetu sets out a scenario to prove it by googling for an Urdu website.

Obviously the first thing she lands on in a patriotic Indian film needs to be a terrorist website (some nice Urdu poetry might have been better, or even just a news article?). This initial revelation of her new-found linguistic skills could have been presented in a more hyper-real way, rather than a matter-of-fact “I know Urdu now! Isn’t that weird?”, potentially starting a more artistic portrayal of the past life regression concept.

In fact, the portrayal is so matter of fact that Sanjana’s friend Neetu as she is a doctor seeks a rational reason why Sanjana might suddenly know Urdu, and takes her to see a psychiatrist. Whilst this is indeed plausible for both characters and the plot, it is then contradicted by what follows.

The psychiatrist, Nandita, relates cases where other people spontaneously understood other languages / information (such as an American who suddenly knew Russian, a Frenchwoman who suddenly could map out Istanbul, and a similar case in Indian Punjab). Nandita explains this is signs of a past life (do psychiatrists commonly mix in religion?).

Nandita: Those who’ve practiced spirituality have always believed in it,

And nowadays modern psychiatrists have accepted reincarnation

She explains that whilst the mind stores memories from this life only, the soul stores memories from all past lives.

She offers the chance to figure out what this all means if she is allowed to help Sanjana regress into her past life. The next part of the scene offers a glimpse into the style of filmmaking “Dangerous Ishhq” could have adopted in another guise.

The scene showing her taking her mind back into her past life is cleverly done – with a version of Sanjana in her head going down in a “lift” to a past life. The lift passes through different colours for different levels as she “lands” in her past life. If this had been adopted more throughout the film, it would have added a level of originality and even dark humour that could have been celebrated, rather than the melodrama that was criticised instead.

Sanjana explains what she sees – she knows this is her house, she knows the bodies lying there is her dead mother and father, and that she’s scared. Karisma plays this past life already with a sense of a younger character than Sanjana.

You can watch this scene play out in a clip here:

The past life stories are too brief, and sacrificed at the expense of the contemporary timeline, despite the characters involved and stakes at play being less believe and less interesting in the modern day, especially in the first half of the film. Given how rushed some of these storylines are however, the audience is left indifferent about the couple’s potential separation:

Sanjana, in her past life regression as Gita, meets with her sister – also played by Divya Dutta who plays Neetu in the contemporary timelife. Her sister explains that their Uncle Shamshul and his men have left and that they’re safe for now, and that she witnessed him murder their parents in a revenge killing – not wanting to “spare anyone from Pakistan” as we understand it is the time of Partition (a hugely rich setting for dramatic storytelling, and much more so than the angst of a career driven separation between a supermodel and her super rich boyfriend).

Once again we see another mob, and our past life version of Rohan – Iqbal, comes to save the pair (it’s all very damsel-in-distress). Her sister Chanda – seemingly the more heroic of the two, holds the door a la Hodor, sacrificing herself (though not without a bit of a fight at least) in order to save Bran, err, sorry, Gita/Sanjana (errm Karisma might be easiest).

Iqbal’s friend Arif indirectly reveals his disapproval of the relationship between Gita and Iqbal, preferring to send her away from Pakistan to a “safe place” – of course this safe place for an orphaned Hindu girl at time of partition is India. Gita expresses that she doesn’t want to leave either Iqbal or her country Pakistan. Arif’s argument is this is the only way to save Gita’s life, and therefore is able to persuade Iqbal to let her go.

Gita lies among a truck full of dead bodies as passage over the border – this, given the weight of the historical content, and the personal touch through Gita’s eyes, is for a second quite impactful, a close up of Karisma’s face lay parrellel in the truck as a song plays in the background however is unfortunately cut short, as she climbs off the truck quickly and insists on seeing Iqbal. She is more overtly faced with the ongoing death and destruction, but having her merely lying among the bodies could have shown this with greater subtlely on the one hand and on the other – arguably more meaning. We could have had the truck pass by such destruction in a wide shot or two.

Instead she manages to meet up with Iqbal, and they decide to marry. Arif at this point outwardly expresses his disagreement with them marrying due to their different religions. He tries to reignite the plan to take her over the border, and through a slip of the tongue – mentions the destination is Ludhiana rather than Amristar. Iqbal accuses Arif and they fight. Gita watches. Again. Oh and Iqbal is killed and Sanjana is pulled out of her past life and into the present.

The Gita/Iqbal Jodi therefore – is yet another one we are only reduced to understanding it as it is threatened and when they are already extremely committed to one another. It all feels rushed. To feel the weight of Iqbal’s decision to send Gita away – we need to understand how much this would actually pain him to do so. To understand why she runs back to him despite the danger – we have to understand his pull for her.

The melodramatic hits of the 90s such as Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, DDLJ, and Karisma Kapoor starrers such as Raja Hindustani and Dil To Pagal Hai all had moments of lightness when were endeared to the characters and understood their dynamic with one another – before their relationship faced peril or heartbreak. In such cases the declarative speeches about the meaning of love and preferring to die than separate and the like all have a context in which we can understand how they may really be inseparable jodis.

We’re then taken to another past life, much further back, in 1658, this time in Daulatabad with no warning or context on how we are here beyond being shown this. She is now Salma, betrothed to a soldier being sent off to battle for the son of the Mughal emperor Shah Jahn, in a dispute about succession. He leaves her with 100 love letters.

We then cut to a sweet scene when Karisma as Salma reacts to news the soldiers are coming back from battle. She dresses and grooms as a romantic song plays, and then runs to meet Ali, reminiscing about their courtship shown in a montage as she runs. She spots Ali’s friend Rashid and asks him for Ali’s whereabouts – only to learn he died in battle. Karisma’s reaction is one of disbelief that is convinces and is neither overstated nor wooden.

Her gaze is held for exactly long enough and we can see the pain in her eyes. This is one of the moments in the plot as the film is crafted where Karisma actually gets to show her ability. She eventually collapses to the ground but this is also not overdramatic. The wide shot of her crying and struggling to breathe, and having fallen as she could no longer stand, is also a wise choice as we the soldiers walk past her.

Salma is shown in mourning as Rashid explains how Ali died. Rashid offers to marry her in Ali’s place giving the rationale that this will protect her honour and out of loyalty to his dead friend. A prostitute (Divya Dutta again) visits Salma. She reveals Rashid’s plan to separate Salma and Ali and claim Salma for himself. She tells her Ali is alive. Salma intervenes after overhearing his kidnappers discuss Ali’s soon to be demise. It seems Salma has more spunk than either Sanjana or Gita. Through this intervention we (and Sanjana) learn that Rohan’s younger brother is one such enemy -and has an involvement in his kidnapping. She reveals this to ACP Singh.

This is the shortest – but actually the most interesting romance so far.

The film in general focuses too much on the pure romance part – the mystery/supernatural thriller/dark part of the plot could be drawn out more and give a wider appeal as a result:

With around forty minutes of the film remaining, as the audience we understand that Rohan has died, and Sanjana is shown mouring and attending his funeral rites with Rohan’s family. This lifts some of the weight off the film as it now shifts more into the mystery aspect.

Sanjana is shown watching the kidnapper being interviewed by the press on TV after he is being taken off by the police. He claims he was only involved for the money and is being used as a scapegoat – the real instigator and brain behind the kidnapping and murder is still at loose.

The narrative driving the plot at this point becomes who is behind Rohan’s kidnapping, and what is their intention. This leads to the most engaging part of the film, and it is disappointing this comes so late on, when most of the audience is already hard to win over, and disappointed by the melodrama, distracted by the background music and failed to care about Rohan and Sanjana as a pair. If the film had been set up as a mystery from the beginning – with the epic nature of the romance emerging throughout, rather than insisted upon from the start, this film could have been much stronger and less held back by its other flaws.

Conclusion:

Made on a larger budget than the likes of Preity Zinta’s return the following year in “Ishkq in Paris”, “Dangerous Ishhq” always had a greater propensity to fail. Karisma’s significant gap from screens added to the pressure to deliver a hit in order to relaunch her career, and given its commercial and critical failure its unsurprising to see that she has yet to follow it up with another film and there is no talk of any in the pipeline.

Given Karisma’s filmy lineage, and that whilst she was not established as top box office draw in 2012 as she might have been 15 years earlier, she did have two close relatives that were, in her sister Kareena (who had starred in hits “Ra.One” and “Bodyguard” only the year before, and in 2012 released “Talaash” and had the lead role in “Heroine” – which opened with over 7 crore, then a record for a women-centric film), and cousin Ranbir (“Rockstar” released in 2011 and “Barfi!” in 2012). A cameo or supporting role from either would have increased interest in the film, and Kareena could have worked well in the Neetu role and Ranbir as Rahul, for example.

Even without gimmicks such as Kapoor clan cameos, “Dangerous Ishhq” might have worked if it had gotten a good word of mouth from a strong critical response. For this to happen however, the film had to follow the aesthetics, directing and acting style of 2012, rather than the 90s films through which Karisma earned her fame. The premise held promise but failed to deliver, restricted by dated and soapy storytelling approaches. This saw Karisma remain a movie star in the film and fail to transform into the actress she can be. Throughout the film her character is too passive, and it leaves Karisma with not enough to do. At the points when this isn’t so (during some interactions with ACP Singh, and in particular, at the end of the film) this not so coincidentally leads to more engaging storytelling and the stronger parts of the movie.

The premise of the film allowed however for a combination of romance, thriller, mystery and action with a touch of the spiritual and the supernatural thrown in. However the romance fails to convince, the thriller is inconsistent, the mystery only emerges later on, and the spiritual and supernatural is only played up during certain parts of the film. The action, even more unforgivably, is left largely to the men, which seems extra strange in a heroine-oriented film, and leaves Karisma’s character appearing as a passive spectator for far too much of “Dangerous Ishhq”.

Verdict:

Given the significant time lapse between Karisma’s previous releases and “Dangerous Ishhq”, a commerically successful release was always going to be an uphill battle. Karisma was also stuck in a bind of the type of films, and filmmaking she had been releasing prior to her return having largely moved on.

Aamir, Shah Rukh and Salman, for better or worse, were not making the same kind of films in 2012 as they were in the 90s, and have maintained popularity by moving with the times and styles as they have changed. A female actor in a heroine-oriented film is going to be given even less slack for this, despite a perhaps inevitability about returning to familiar ground.

Perhaps this means the barriers to both commercial and critical success were too high for “Dangerous Ishhq” to overcome, and suggests that this film also supports the hypothesis that heroine-oriented comebacks are “cursed” and doomed to fail. The score stands at 2-2.

Found this interesting?:

Part five is to follow shortly – and will look at whether the film that broke the “curse” is evidence its only a myth, or whether it is the exception that proves the rule. What film could this possibly be?