pic credit: scroll.in
In Tadap, Ishana is Kabir Singh's less fascinating brother. Unlike Kabir, he does not force a woman into romance; in fact, she initiates the relationship. When the love tale shatters, he, like Kabir, becomes unhinged. He transforms into a testosterone-fueled Devdas, drinking, trashing property, breaking bones, and eventually forcing his partner to stay with him.
Ishana has obviously missed the consent memo. He owns a movie theatre, which allows him to mourn openly while projecting a portrait of the woman he's lost on a large screen. It's just as depressing as it sounds. Tadap, like Kabir Singh, is a remake of a popular Telugu film. RX 100 is a perverted, misogynist take on the female needs that was released in 2018.
Ajay Bhupathi, the writer-director, and Tajuddin Syed, the dialog writer, construct a female figure who lives life on her own terms, yet is not alone. The film, which is based on genuine events, invites us to understand the agony of a man whose love is so intense that his violence is justified - to the point where it's acceptable for him to bind a lady to her bed or almost strangle her by hoisting her into the air. Because she is deserving.
Despite its horrible gender politics, RX 100 is consistently entertaining to watch. Ajay makes no attempt to diminish the actions of his heroine. Shiva is bare-chested when Indu first sees him, and she and the camera focus on his naked torso.
The connection is varnished by director Milan Luthria, who developed the film from a scenario by regular writing partner Rajat Arora. Ramisa is sweet if the little entitled, rich girl who flirts with Ishana in Tadap. Kartikeya Gummakonda's character in RX 100 is a sexually naive country bumpkin who must be taught to kiss.
However, Tadap is the launch vehicle for Ahan Shetty, a star son, therefore even a chhota shehar ka ladka must have some swag. The screenplay allows him to do it everything, including blasting his way through a quarry and showing off his smooth dancing routines at a rave. Milan, who has directed films such as The Dirty Picture and Once Upon a Time in Mumbai, has a knack for crafting pulpy, old-school films — the kind where characters don't speak to one other, but engage in dialog baazi, and the emotions are always striving to be larger than life.
Ishana remarks in one scene, "Mohabbat mazhab ho gayi hai mera." A wicked cop informs him in another scene, "Teri pyaar ki batti toh main lal karoonga." a sweet aunty who operates a coffee shop urges Ishana to stop up because, 'Aurat kab meherbaan ho, kab mazaak bana de, koi nahi jaanta,' she says.
Really? It's almost the year 2022. Why is Hindi cinema so full of nonsense? But, in my opinion, the worst sin isn't bad politics. It's tedium. And this is Tadap's most serious issue. Despite staying true to the source material, the picture struggles to establish its foothold.
Perhaps because its protagonists, Ahan and Tara Sutaria, are overworked. Ahan has a strong presence on film. He manages to carry off the stunt with ease. Tara has a wonderful appearance. The characters in Tadap, on the other hand, have two personalities.
Actors capable of far greater expressiveness and precision were required for certain parts in the film, particularly near the finale. The generic writing also hinders the actors. Ishana is only known as the 'local darling' of Mussoorie, where the film is set. 'Bahut hi loyal aur saaf dil ka,' he is described. Ramisa is even more straightforward: she is a student in London who enjoys taking photographs.
She also introduces Ishana to smoking – yep, this is the kind of movie where smoking is seen as a sign of moral character – but only for women. The father figure and the father, respectively, are played by Saurabh Shukla and Kumud Mishra.
Pritam's music is the actual star, with Milan working hard on the melodies to infuse ache and sweep into the story. Tadap, on the other hand, is primarily tedious. The movie is now showing in a theater near you. Remember to put on a mask.
