.png)
However, as it turns out, it is yet another addition to the trend where filmmakers flaunt the placard of ‘based on a true story’ but develop cold feet in digging the truth of the story. It thanks the top of the ministry for support, but it is hard to take a film on diplomacy seriously that can’t differentiate between an embassy and a high commission. It is difficult to root for a nationalist narrative when the makers don’t get the designation of a former foreign minister right.
The Diplomat sounds contrived and simplistic because it recreates the sarkari version of the events. It brings to mind John's most recent production, Vedaa, in which masala compromised the story's integrity. It would appear that the creators spent more time designing the disclaimer than writing the script. The elaborate disclaimer is more intricate than the storyline. It tries to bind our viewing experience into a series of dos and don’ts, but what one eventually experiences is not in sync with the disclaimer’s logic. It says that the film is based on information available in the public domain but then conjures up an attack on Indian diplomats on Pakistani soil. Ironically, the last line of the disclaimer suggests that the film doesn’t seek to spoil relations with neighbouring countries.
A single mother, Uzma (Sadia Khateeb), meets a taxi driver, Tahir (Jagjeet Sandhu), in Kuala Lampur. Uzma decides to relocate to Buner in the hills of Pakistan's geopolitically sensitive Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province because she believes that the mining-rich, sparsely developed area is ideal for her daughter's naturopathic treatment. Her bubble bursts when the much-married Tahir turns out to be a beast. She tricks him into knocking at the doors of the Indian High Commission, and then John takes charge.
Uzma's backstory does not sound plausible, even with creative license. It is hard to buy the gaps in her statement as just a huge error of judgment. It's odd that the film doesn't talk about her parents or her first husband. Even the conservative Pakistani characters don't ask her about her marriage to Tahir. Moreover, the commentary and tone reduce the complexity of the situation to answer a popular social media question: the difference between India and Pakistan. The good thing is Nair keeps it moving, papering over the cracks with some style. To his credit, screenwriter Ritesh Shah attempts different shades of Pakistani characters, however, they remain swimming between hysterical and stereotypical. A helpful lawyer (Kumud Mishra), a law-upholding judge, and a slimy ISI officer (Ashwath Bhatt) all behave like stock characters with predictable lines. Bollywood has reduced the versatile Ashwath into a single-note specimen of vile from across the border whose motives can be seen from a distance.
It goes without saying that Pakistan is a difficult terrain for foreign service officers, but one is not sure whether our officers keep stating the obvious. Talking of diplomatic language, in his conversations, Singh twice emphasises that Uzma is a Muslim girl. Ritesh tries to create variety in the Indian diplomatic set-up by pitching a Pakistan-fearing Tiwari (Sharib Hashmi), but the character’s potential remains unrealised.
Known for keeping a straight face even in the most evocative of scenarios, John is a great choice to play a diplomat, and he does a decent job in a role that limits his muscle power to forcefully punching the table. He channels his inherent swag to make his way through a sketchy script. Jagjeet blends into the atavistic ways of patriarchy. In a short appearance as Swaraj, Revathy captures the grace and charm of the politician who earned respect across the political divide. Sadia Khateeb, on the other hand, creates a moving portrait of a woman who suffers for believing a stranger during the film's tense moments. Except for the sloppy courtroom sequence, she remains a picture of poise and tenderness amidst suspecting men. Unfortunately, the nuance of her performance, like much else, gets lost in the sanitised screenplay.
Right now, The Diplomat is in charge.
0 comments: