Yuvvraaj

When a director starts repeating himself, warning bells start ringing. They’ve been tolling for Subhash Ghai for sometime now.

His last big-budget historical extravaganza, `Kisna ‘ tanked ; so did his smaller, more intimate, more contemporary making-of-a-terrorist tale `Black and White’.

`Yuvvraaj’ finds him totally bereft of new ideas. The self-styled showman falls back on the baroque sets, grandiose story-telling, and swelling orchestral music that used to work for him back in the 80s, and gives us `Taal’ all over again, without any of its soaring qualities.

In just under three painful hours, three estranged brothers, Salman, Anil and Zayed, discover each other. Salman, starting off being rude to ladylove Katrina, admits to having a soft corner for her.

Zayed, who only wants his share of the property, is suddenly and unconvincingly overwhelmed by brotherly love. Dim-witted eldest sibling Anil Kapoor, who’s been left all the lovely lolly, overcomes death-by-poisoning.

The dastardly villains who include a vamp dressed in plunging spaghetti `cholis’ and poisonous smiles, are vanquished. And they all live happily afterward.

To prove to his audiences that he is very up to the minute, Ghai makes his heroine a gown-wearing cellist. Katrina lives in Prague in a mansion that looks like a museum. Boman Irani, who’s turning into the new Anupam Kher with all the heavy father roles he seems to be playing, rejoices in calling his future-son-law `donkey, monkey, flunkey’.

Salman smiles when he hears this, shakes his ear-rings (he wears large hoops in both ears), and changes his hair style and colour every couple of reels.

Anil Kapoor is made to smile daftly, and spend all his time with a little boy: we hear the term `paagal’ only a handful of times.

Ghai makes up for that by getting a doctor to pronounce that Anil has a `genius disorder’. When Anil is not playing with balloons, he is singing classical `ragas’.

Time for Ghai to put a pause to his empty directorial flourishes. And stick to producing films.