There are two ways to look at Arth–The Destination (or Arth 2). First, as a remake of the 1982 Mahesh Bhatt movie, and second, as a separate independent film.
As the latter, especially when compared with its peers, Arthis not bad. It has a stellar cast, some impressive – even if intermittent – acting performances, a pleasantly unorthodox script and a smashing soundtrack.
And so as a love story which explores multiple, and multilayered, relationships and at least tries – even if paradoxically – to bring the idea of a headstrong woman to the forefront, it can be passable.
Of course, the fact that it stars Shaan Shahid – the biggest superstar in all of Lollywood – and Humaima Malik – one of the leading actors in the country – makes it pretty sellable.
But ironically it is the film’s own self-touted selling point – that it is a remakeof Mahesh Bhatt’s classic – which makes anyone who has watched the 1982 film completely incapable to appreciate anything promising that the movie might have.
For this isn’t just a case of a remake failing to live up to the very high standards of the original: this is a remake that pummels the very foundations of the piece of art that it has the audacity to call itself an imitation of.
The only way Arth (1982) could have been interpreted as a love story, was with one own self. But to be fair to Arth (2017), it does manage to depict love for oneself concealed in this perversion of the original story – that is the director Shaan’s infatuation with himself, which transforms a peripheral role from the original into the focus of the storyline taking away the limelight from the actual protagonist, and the actual arth of the movie.
Ali (ShaanShahid) is a former rock star who returns to Lahore from London facing failures in both the personal and professional fronts, following divorce and over a decade of musical oblivion.
Simultaneously, Umar (Mohib Mirza), a struggling filmmaker, joins hands with a superstar Humaima (Humaima Malik) – kick-starting his career and finally providing some form of security to his wife Uzma (Uzma Hassan).
It is later discovered – first by the audience and then by Uzma, that it is Umar’s affair with Humaima that has brought him a career resurgence – and his marriage financial security.
Initially oblivious to the affair, but watching her husband grow distant, Uzma meets the struggling Ali – of whom she was a fan back in the day. One thing leads to the other and all of a sudden she’s writing songs for her best buddy.
How things pan out once Umar confesses to his affair, and how Uzma deals with it, is what the rest of the storyline is about. Or should have been, had Arth stayed true to the original where the singer – played by Raj Kiran – doesn’t even enter the film till long after Pooja’s (Shabana Azmi) personal struggle had begun. In Arth 2, not only is Ali needlessly there when Uzma’s character is supposed to be picking up her pieces herself and tracing her own identity, he also manages to usurp the lead role with the filmmakers making the story all about him – as is rather obvious from the movie posters.
Without spoiling the film – more than the filmmakers have done already – what one can tell you is that the remake transforms the ahead-of-its-time original that dealt with a woman’s quest for an identity detached from any man, to a male dominated, eventually cringe-worthy storyline that forcibly reattaches a man to that very identity just when she had discovered it.
In addition to the barefaced mockery that the film makes of the original storyline, the acting performances leave a lot to be desired. Perhaps the better efforts were from the characters rendered to the supporting levels: Mohib Mirza and Humaima Malik.
Humaima probably had the most challenging role as the paranoid, schizophrenic other woman – and the challenge occasionally becomes too big for her. But considering the mediocrity elsewhere, she manages to come out more unscathed than the two leads.
Uzma Hassan could have been forgiven for remaining in her TV mould, had she not had such a peripheral character. Paradoxically though, it was Shaan’s character stealing the limelight that concealed her acting limitations.
Whether it was the double responsibility as the film’s director, where perhaps none of the assistants would’ve dared to tell him that a particular shot wasn’t good enough, but Shaan has almost three decades’ worth of evidence that he can act much better.
Perhaps it is Shaan making himself the film’s arth, both behind and in front of the camera, that resulted in the individual and collective shambles.
The only indubitable win for the film is its music – spearheaded by Sanwar De Khudayaand Murshed Ji. But even on that front it has to compete with Jagjit and Chitra Singh’s Tum itna jo muskura rahe ho, Koi yeh kaise bata de and Jhuki jhuki si nazar.
The film can’t catch a break in any comparisons, and won’t even pass as a sloppy counterfeit –the least Shaan and his team could’ve done was rename the film.
For, this isn’t Arth and should actually be sued for defaming the original.
As the latter, especially when compared with its peers, Arthis not bad. It has a stellar cast, some impressive – even if intermittent – acting performances, a pleasantly unorthodox script and a smashing soundtrack.
And so as a love story which explores multiple, and multilayered, relationships and at least tries – even if paradoxically – to bring the idea of a headstrong woman to the forefront, it can be passable.
Of course, the fact that it stars Shaan Shahid – the biggest superstar in all of Lollywood – and Humaima Malik – one of the leading actors in the country – makes it pretty sellable.
But ironically it is the film’s own self-touted selling point – that it is a remakeof Mahesh Bhatt’s classic – which makes anyone who has watched the 1982 film completely incapable to appreciate anything promising that the movie might have.
For this isn’t just a case of a remake failing to live up to the very high standards of the original: this is a remake that pummels the very foundations of the piece of art that it has the audacity to call itself an imitation of.
The only way Arth (1982) could have been interpreted as a love story, was with one own self. But to be fair to Arth (2017), it does manage to depict love for oneself concealed in this perversion of the original story – that is the director Shaan’s infatuation with himself, which transforms a peripheral role from the original into the focus of the storyline taking away the limelight from the actual protagonist, and the actual arth of the movie.
The remake transforms the ahead-of-its-time original that dealt with a woman's quest for an identity detached from any man, to a male dominated, eventually cringe-worthy storyline
Ali (ShaanShahid) is a former rock star who returns to Lahore from London facing failures in both the personal and professional fronts, following divorce and over a decade of musical oblivion.
Simultaneously, Umar (Mohib Mirza), a struggling filmmaker, joins hands with a superstar Humaima (Humaima Malik) – kick-starting his career and finally providing some form of security to his wife Uzma (Uzma Hassan).
It is later discovered – first by the audience and then by Uzma, that it is Umar’s affair with Humaima that has brought him a career resurgence – and his marriage financial security.
Initially oblivious to the affair, but watching her husband grow distant, Uzma meets the struggling Ali – of whom she was a fan back in the day. One thing leads to the other and all of a sudden she’s writing songs for her best buddy.
How things pan out once Umar confesses to his affair, and how Uzma deals with it, is what the rest of the storyline is about. Or should have been, had Arth stayed true to the original where the singer – played by Raj Kiran – doesn’t even enter the film till long after Pooja’s (Shabana Azmi) personal struggle had begun. In Arth 2, not only is Ali needlessly there when Uzma’s character is supposed to be picking up her pieces herself and tracing her own identity, he also manages to usurp the lead role with the filmmakers making the story all about him – as is rather obvious from the movie posters.
Without spoiling the film – more than the filmmakers have done already – what one can tell you is that the remake transforms the ahead-of-its-time original that dealt with a woman’s quest for an identity detached from any man, to a male dominated, eventually cringe-worthy storyline that forcibly reattaches a man to that very identity just when she had discovered it.
In addition to the barefaced mockery that the film makes of the original storyline, the acting performances leave a lot to be desired. Perhaps the better efforts were from the characters rendered to the supporting levels: Mohib Mirza and Humaima Malik.
Humaima probably had the most challenging role as the paranoid, schizophrenic other woman – and the challenge occasionally becomes too big for her. But considering the mediocrity elsewhere, she manages to come out more unscathed than the two leads.
Uzma Hassan could have been forgiven for remaining in her TV mould, had she not had such a peripheral character. Paradoxically though, it was Shaan’s character stealing the limelight that concealed her acting limitations.
Whether it was the double responsibility as the film’s director, where perhaps none of the assistants would’ve dared to tell him that a particular shot wasn’t good enough, but Shaan has almost three decades’ worth of evidence that he can act much better.
Perhaps it is Shaan making himself the film’s arth, both behind and in front of the camera, that resulted in the individual and collective shambles.
The only indubitable win for the film is its music – spearheaded by Sanwar De Khudayaand Murshed Ji. But even on that front it has to compete with Jagjit and Chitra Singh’s Tum itna jo muskura rahe ho, Koi yeh kaise bata de and Jhuki jhuki si nazar.
The film can’t catch a break in any comparisons, and won’t even pass as a sloppy counterfeit –the least Shaan and his team could’ve done was rename the film.
For, this isn’t Arth and should actually be sued for defaming the original.