Can Shahid Kapoor give a bad performance? The actor has done his share of bad films, but even when everything around him looked third-rate, he came out unscathed. Kapoor has a photogenic actor face. Meaning: He can merely twist or toughen up his countenance and still give the impression of having formed a deep emotional connection with his character. It's a rare talent. You can never tell the difference between a sleepwalking Kapoor and the Kapoor who has eagerly committed himself to the task at hand. I was awake while watching duds like Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya, Rangoon, Teri Meri Kahaani, Badmaash Company, and Paathshaala due to Kapoor's magnetism. That charming face keeps your eyes open and makes your mind believe that you are in the presence of a gifted actor. What all this means is that a filmmaker has to be insanely incompetent to bring out a bad Shahid Kapoor performance. Rosshan Andrrews manages to do the impossible. He takes someone as incredibly talented as Shahid Kapoor and thoroughly wastes his potential. In Deva, the actor himself is in fine form, but the director doesn't know how to handle all that energy Kapoor brings with him to this film.
At his best, Andrrews proves himself to be a good cheerleader. When ACP Dev Ambre (Kapoor) dances like a madman or cuts a politician down to size with lewd gestures, Andrrews cheers for his star like a good fan. The atmosphere the director builds up on the screen is similar to the one we find at a stadium during a cricket match or a concert. Everything feels lively and upbeat as we derive pleasure from the main attraction (player(s), singer, etc.). Andrrews supplies the background music and offers Kapoor a platform. After this basic contribution, he happily stands aside and lets the actor do his job. As Dev (or Dev-A), Shahid creates an aesthetic out of his machismo - the screen thrums with energy from his psychopathic anger. When he violently intrudes on a birthday party celebration to take a key from a politician (Girish Kulkarni), we experience a surge of excitement not because a corrupt man is humiliated and threatened but because we enjoy seeing Shahid conjuring a maniacal mood to sell this moment. After having sex with a neighbor's wife (Aditi Sandhya Sharma), when Dev greets her husband from his apartment, we almost hear him taunting the poor man with his cocksure demeanor. If Andrrews had a distinct voice or a link with his actor, he could have blessed us with the joy of watching a great performance.
Andrrews main problem, however, is that he refuses to go near any of his actors. I don't think he and Shahid were ever in the same room or set together. Kapoor utters a tapori twang and makes his eyes appear intoxicated - he is always high on either drugs or male hormones. The character simultaneously blends into his surroundings and also sticks out as a crucial figure. So, while Kapoor proves how good, and effective he can be, Andrrews simply observes him from a distance. The director's gaze, as well as his style, is so impersonal that he ends up erecting a wall between the audience and the characters. We look at Shahid's expressions and admire them, only to realize that we are not immersed in the drama from any angle. And since Andrrews neither pushes Shahid nor challenges him to surpass himself, the actor, after a while, leaves you with the feeling that he is just going through a series of stock expressions oscillating between a particular set of faces (solemn, sad, confused, mad). This knowledge, this realization, increases the gap between the film and the audience. Hence, after a point, Kapoor's acting feels dull and stale.
What's worse is that Andrrews fails to use his actors potently for dance sequences. Both Kapoor and Pooja Hegde can dance really well. But the song, Bhasad Macha, has generic beats, and generic lyrics, and while Kapoor moves his body like a rubber, he merely comes across as a flexible athlete - he doesn't fill us with the kind of awe we get from watching a professional dancer. Shahid can hypnotize you with his moves (watch the title song of Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya or any dance video featuring Shahid Kapoor); the fault lies in Andrrews's direction. Hegde, like everybody else, is completely wasted (even during the dance sequence). As a journalist named Diya, she often tells Dev she will share important findings regarding a mole, but this discussion never happens. Pavail Gulati and Pravesh Rana come across as okayish because they seem too rigid. Kapoor still manages to offer flashes of brilliance, but his co-actors are stuck in the pit of blandness. Kapoor, in other words, has no one who can match him or encourage him to improvise. As a result, every performance looks even more inferior.
Deva's story has terrific potential. If the first half is covered with toxic smoke, the second half is nothing but a purification process. Dev gets into an accident (Deva opens with this scene, and at that moment, it looks very clumsy), loses his memory, and becomes Dev-B. With this new Dev, that affair with a neighbor's wife gains shades of love and intimacy. There is no sexism with this new Dev, as is evident from the scene where he asks Dipti (Kubbra Sait) to join them on a mission. Writers Bobby–Sanjay, Abbas Dalal, Hussain Dalal, Arshad Syed, and Sumit Arora could have steered Deva into an interesting direction post-interval. When Dev-B, inside the courtroom, sees the footage of his brutality, what does he think? Does he feel repulsed or confused? Does Dev-B regret having an affair with and breaking the heart of that wife? Do they not talk about their relationship when she comes to his apartment later? The second half of Deva could have turned into a criticism about cinematic brutality and male violence, but Andrrews, as well as the writers, show more eagerness towards making a suspense thriller. Deewaar's shadow can be observed in Amitabh Bachchan's painting and that scene where two cops/friends/brothers (one of them is more of a criminal) argue about what is right and what is wrong. The mother sentiment is replaced with the harshness of fathers, which infuses Deva with plenty of angst. A character complains that his father doesn't treat him with respect. The next scene then becomes all about fixing this situation. Deva thinks that the audience wouldn't be able to retain a piece of information for a long duration. This is why when Diya teaches Dev that havaldars suffer more pain than senior officers, we get a scene where havaldars are killed and severely injured due to an explosion.
But coming back to that Deewaar touch, it's merely inserted for a twist near the end (the "brothers before others" sentiment is regularly played to increase its effect, yet it isn't convincing enough). It's a functional revelation. You are shocked, but when the feeling disappears, you are left with emptiness. In Mumbai Police (spoiler starts), the twist was centered on a homosexual affair. I have not seen that film, but this revelation sounds shocking and feels dramatically potent (spoiler ends). The intention behind the tweak in Deva is obvious: The filmmakers want to make this remake fresh for the people who have seen the original. This change, however, resembles a shiny object. It's attractive, but its power is merely superficial. Apart from all the cop-criminal drama, Deva also slides in a small detail regarding one of Shahid Kapoor's upcoming projects. A character's codename is "Bull" here, and Bull is a movie in which Shahid will appear in the future (if IMDb is to be trusted). If nothing else, Deva ends up subtly promoting a feature that will arrive in the future.
Final Score- [4/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
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Publisher at Midgard Times