Twitter is buzzing with stories about “Malang”s popularity among the viewers in India, which most probably will remain a purely local thing, considering the extensive use of the local film tropes. This Netflix thriller with strong drama elements is a tough cookie to chew, not just in terms of the actual plot that bounces back and forth until the half of the film, but also related to its very structure. Is it a romance, a tragedy, a revenge musical thriller, a parody, or is it maybe a promotion reel by the Goa tourism development corporation? It would be very disappointing to hear that the latter played no role in the plotting of “Malang”, granted that a seven minute long footage of parachuting, water-skiing, cad-driving, diving, just to mention a few, would otherwise mean laziness in building a picture of a real-life bonding between two people.
Over-the-top is generally the thing in “Malang”. Dramatic music follows every step of the “revenge angel” Advait (heart-throb Aditya Roy Kapur), a cool dude with a look to kill who simply has to reveal his six-pack in a fight under the pouring rain spoiling a bit of a fun wet t-shirt contest in the jail's courtyard. In that very jail, he must have had private lessons in martial arts, at least by the likes of Vivek Teja and Midhun Jith, considering his abrupt transformation from a spoiled bachelor from a good house to a men-mincing machine. The extensive use of slow-motion in depicting his unbreakable spirit (and balls) looks like it came straight out from a music video or a shampoo commercial.
It is literally a time machine to the prime of MTV (1980's) with perfect looking people showing their pearl whites and immaculate beach bodies slowly emerging from the ocean, with the sunset in the background. Along that line, Advait's love interest (Disha Patani) and the reason for the whole body-count is an otherworldly beauty meant to be modern for her partying, care-free perception of life and drug-intake, and yet she is depicted in very stereotypical colours. Romancing is all laughter and holding hands, sticking to the tradition of showing women as beautiful items one should claim their own, untouched by other men, sacred and pure. The wind blows her hair at almost any moment, her mouth pouts, the eyelashes bat, and the gaze is the one of a pet rabbit. Of course, her body is perfectly oiled to emerge from the ocean, the cleavage right in focus. Admittedly, she looks stunning, but this isn't supposed to be a Lloyd Kaufmann production, even less so a Coppertone advert.
Testosterone explodes from every pore of the film, showering the audience with cliches. It's women making men's lives hell with their nagging and expectations. Advait's childhood friend complains about his bitter destiny because he's married and the wife expecting, and the young police officer Michael (Kunal Khemu) who committed murder because his manhood was hurt, blames his mother “who scared him so much he wasn't a man anymore” for the person he became. But, the alpha male is given in the role of a corrupt and brutal police officer Agasha played by a veteran Indian actor Anil Kapoor, who steals the show with his flawless performance. The scenes from “Malang” that stay engraved in one's mind evolve around Kapoor's uncompromisingly brutal character.
Generally, the core story had an immense potential to be made into a memorable thriller. Both the crime and the revenge make perfect sense in the cultural context (and not only), but the execution with exaggeration in almost everything, topped with lots of cheese and stretched over two hours, makes it a painful experience.
