RK/RKAY review: This Rajat Kapoor starrer and directorial is a multiverse of sadness

2/5

Story: An actor-filmmaker finds himself in a fix when he discovers that his lead has miraculously disappeared from the film’s rushes. What follows requires the audience to suspend their fundamentals of reality and relax their reservations about multiverses.

Review: Films about films have forever stuck to a typical premise: allowing us a peek into the process [of filmmaking] and also the lives of those who light up our screens. Packed with candid behind-the-scenes moments, they’ve forever been revelatory if not confirming our deluded perception of what actually transpires in the lives of those perenially in the limelight. RK/RKAY is neither. Extending the boundaries of reality to collude with fantasy, this one seems so obsessed with cracking on with an idea it believes to be novel that it extends it to the point of exhaustion.

The film revolves around the filmmaker and hero of his own directorial, RK (Rajat Kapoor). When he discovers on the editing table that his lead character, Mehboob (also Kapoor), has disappeared from the film’s rushes, he’s baffled. Mehboob, a stereotype of a 60s Bollywood hero (one-dimensionally romantic and excessively confrontational), was to be eliminated in the climax by the film’s hammy villain KN Singh (Ranveer Shorey) and his cronies. But he manages to escape and enters the maker’s universe. This absurd meta-narrative finds a filmmaker actually encountering a fictional product of his imagination. Sadly, their exchanges are hardly stirring. And that’s the issue with this film. While the symbolism is in place, the subtext has gone AWOL like Mehboob, resulting in a rather vapid exploration. And once the initial fascination with the supposedly novel premise dissipates, there’s little that commands our attention or interest.

The film within the film also features Gulabo (Mallika Sherawat), an unnecessarily world-weary heroine, possibly modelled on Meena Kumari. The hero’s disappearance allows her to slip into character as she purrs in agony while engaging in inane banter across the digital screen with the filmmaker. Blending the onscreen with the off could perhaps trigger ideas for more interactive avenues and possibilities that were never thought possible or practical. But this film hardly uses the format to its potential and seems content with the bare minimum.

RK/RKAY is an indulgent experiment that possibly had some potential on paper. But what could’ve been a thought-provoking piece of multi-dimensional cinema didn’t quite translate on the screen. Logical concerns aside, even if one were to consider this film as a metaphysical attempt at breaking the mould to allow fictional characters to assume a life of their own, there would be a million directions that this story could’ve been nudged in. But the creative decisions taken by Kapoor (also the writer here) barely make a dent. A recent example of stretching the limits of possibility would be Shawn Levy’s 2021 action comedy Free Guy where the lead realises that he’s a non-playing character in a video game. The film actually delved into the character’s inner conflict with accepting his illusionary, peripheral existence and also empowered him with the tools to change the narrative. That great power is denied here, and even greater responsibility (cough...the script) is shirked.

Kapoor, who has previously helmed films such as Raghu Romeo, Mixed Doubles, Mithya, Fatso, Ankhon Dekhi and Kadakh has enjoyed sporadic success and scattered critical acclaim. His choice of projects has been largely script-led and has hardly leaned on star power for commercial success or mainstream acknowledgement. He’s been the kind of filmmaker who wants to put his back behind a project and see it through if he feels it resonates with his better sense. But here, it seems like the idea he chanced upon was too fantastic to be fleshed out or conceived.

As an actor, Kapoor seems more clued into the proceedings. From Monsoon Wedding to Bheja Fry, the actor has conveyed a range of characters with much conviction and doesn’t disappoint here either. Shorey and Sherawat, in their ‘screen’ avatars as KN Singh and Gulabo effectively pull off the exaggerated performance style distinct of actors in the 60s and 70s. If only these promising efforts could be channelled to some effect, this film could’ve been a bit more passable.

Verdict: A dialogue in this film offers hope for how this one could be received: “Buri buri filmein independent ke naam pe log dekhte hain.” But at a time when audiences are shying away from theatres or reserving their multiplex visit for that big screen spectacle, this one could be a gamble that may not pay off.