‘Azaad’ movie review: Aaman Devgan’s debut is a disappointing ride

Director Abhishek Kapoor launches Aaman Devgan and Rasha Thadani with an outworn vehicle in ‘Azaad’

Betaab, Barsaat, Mirziya... Bollywood somehow loves to launch its kids on horses. Abhishek Kapoor’s Azaad is the latest addition to the list where Ajay Devgn’s nephew Aaman Devgan, and Raveena Tandon’s daughter Rasha Thadani, get a horse ride because of their pedigree.

In the period piece set in feudal India, the horse turns out to be the hero, reducing the debutants to supporting roles. It outsmarts them both in terms of screen presence and emotive appeal.

Another rule of this launch drive is to surround the debutants with a strong support cast. Ajay, in an extended cameo, adds some heft and Piyush Mishra chews the scenery, but, somehow, the drama doesn’t take off.

Abhishek’s films have a certain sincerity and warmth. One can feel it in the build-up and dialogues that set the ball rolling for a Lagaan-like experience. The landlords’ urge to dress and speak like the British promises a fresh exploration of the times. The emasculation of a stable boy’s spirit (Aaman) to ride the majestic animal sets the stage for a test of wits and courage.

There are a few rousing moments, like when Azaad struggles to cope with grief, but the film eschews ambition and settles for the tried and tested. The dacoit-rebel discourse has run its course, and the idea of greedy zamindars servicing the interests of Colonial masters fails to engage. So do the forbidden romance between the haves and have-nots and the animal’s loyalty to its master. The predictable layers come together as a moth-eaten yarn.

The youngsters could have stirred the pot if they had brought something more to the table other than buckets of enthusiasm. They emote like they have turned up for a big-budget fancy dress competition. Mohit Malik is better suited for this kind of high-pitched drama, but then another rule says that the kids should not be overshadowed by another young actor in the film.

The desi dialect comes and goes, and the frenzied dance movements don’t fit into the sepia-toned 1920s. The imposing Azaad is suited for Ajay. They both are larger than life. When circumstances bring Aaaman and Azaad together, the tempo goes tame. As Aaman fails to hide the body double, as the proceedings increasingly get false, one feels sorry for Azaad.