Heavy weather in cool climes
It isn’t love that makes the world go round for Fiji resort owner Abdul Razzaq Khan (Paresh Rawal). Fear does. He asks the male protagonist: do you believe in God? Yes, the latter replies. No, you fear God, retorts Mr. Khan. For good measure, he adds: “Dar sey hi dunia chalti hai.”
You squirm: God! Is Paresh Rawal still in OMG mode? He isn’t. There is no Akshay Kumar here in the guise of Lord Krishna; for Table No. 21 is neither a social satire nor a profound cinematic discourse on the flip side of faith. Is it, then, a dark thriller that pulsates with life? That neither. Simply put, it is an eminently forgettable film.
On the face of it, Mr. Khan isn’t a pleasant guy to know. He employs all the dread that he can drum up and paints an unsuspecting couple, Vivaan and Siya Agasthi (Rajeev Khandelwal and Tena Desae), into a murky corner that proves too difficult for the lovey-dovey duo to squeeze out of.
For sure, Mr. Khan isn’t playing harmless games. He actually has a deadly point to prove, but we know not what he is really up to until the very tail-end of Table No. 21. Not that it matters.
In Aditya Datt’s cat and mouse thriller, the natural beauty of the salubrious island location far outstrips the less-than-dramatic energy of the fictive battle of psychological attrition that plays out as a series of tricky questions and tasks that Mr. Khan, as the host of an online game show, comes up with for the couple.
The basic premise of Table No. 21 is intriguing enough; the performances are adequate, if not spectacular and the cinematography and editing are both of the highest order. What the film lacks is a genuinely gripping storyline.
The screenplay is overloaded with clichés right out of more conventional Bollywood melodramas – an out-of-work young man struggling to make ends meet and waiting for his big break; a doting wife as adept at romping in an itsy-bitsy bikini on a beach as at going the extra ‘immoral’ mile in keeping the home fires burning, and a deceptively courteous tormentor hell bent on messing up the twosome’s not-so-hard-earned idyllic vacation.
“Secrets are sexy”, Mr. Khan intones, his voice dripping menace. But he isn't the only one who has reasons to keep his cards close to his chest. Vivaan and Siya, too, have demons from the past to deal with.
The tale of sweet nothings, half-truths and betrayals that lie at the heart of Table No. 21 – the number refers to the Article of the Indian Constitution that guarantees “protection of life and personal liberty” – has a high-minded purpose.
Sadly, the methods it uses to get its point across are painfully laboured. Neither the social objective of the statement that it makes nor the dramatic intent of the mise en scène is served well enough in the bargain.
It isn’t love that makes the world go round for Fiji resort owner Abdul Razzaq Khan (Paresh Rawal). Fear does. He asks the male protagonist: do you believe in God? Yes, the latter replies. No, you fear God, retorts Mr. Khan. For good measure, he adds: “Dar sey hi dunia chalti hai.”
You squirm: God! Is Paresh Rawal still in OMG mode? He isn’t. There is no Akshay Kumar here in the guise of Lord Krishna; for Table No. 21 is neither a social satire nor a profound cinematic discourse on the flip side of faith. Is it, then, a dark thriller that pulsates with life? That neither. Simply put, it is an eminently forgettable film.
On the face of it, Mr. Khan isn’t a pleasant guy to know. He employs all the dread that he can drum up and paints an unsuspecting couple, Vivaan and Siya Agasthi (Rajeev Khandelwal and Tena Desae), into a murky corner that proves too difficult for the lovey-dovey duo to squeeze out of.
For sure, Mr. Khan isn’t playing harmless games. He actually has a deadly point to prove, but we know not what he is really up to until the very tail-end of Table No. 21. Not that it matters.
In Aditya Datt’s cat and mouse thriller, the natural beauty of the salubrious island location far outstrips the less-than-dramatic energy of the fictive battle of psychological attrition that plays out as a series of tricky questions and tasks that Mr. Khan, as the host of an online game show, comes up with for the couple.
The basic premise of Table No. 21 is intriguing enough; the performances are adequate, if not spectacular and the cinematography and editing are both of the highest order. What the film lacks is a genuinely gripping storyline.
The screenplay is overloaded with clichés right out of more conventional Bollywood melodramas – an out-of-work young man struggling to make ends meet and waiting for his big break; a doting wife as adept at romping in an itsy-bitsy bikini on a beach as at going the extra ‘immoral’ mile in keeping the home fires burning, and a deceptively courteous tormentor hell bent on messing up the twosome’s not-so-hard-earned idyllic vacation.
“Secrets are sexy”, Mr. Khan intones, his voice dripping menace. But he isn't the only one who has reasons to keep his cards close to his chest. Vivaan and Siya, too, have demons from the past to deal with.
The tale of sweet nothings, half-truths and betrayals that lie at the heart of Table No. 21 – the number refers to the Article of the Indian Constitution that guarantees “protection of life and personal liberty” – has a high-minded purpose.
Sadly, the methods it uses to get its point across are painfully laboured. Neither the social objective of the statement that it makes nor the dramatic intent of the mise en scène is served well enough in the bargain.
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