That the director of Buddha Gujjar hardly innovates is apparent even from the name of the movie. The suffix Gujjar has appeared in about half a dozen movies released during the last 12 months, though only a couple of them have been commercially successful. This is reminiscent of Jatt phenomenon led by Maula Jatt, though Syed Kamal can be given the credit of using the word prior to its release not in one but a series of flicks like Jatt Kurian Toun Darda and Jatt Kamala Gaya Dubai. Filmmakers, inspired by Maula Jatt’s phenomenal success thought the secret lay in the name alone and, therefore, they continued using it until it ran out of steam to be able to ensure box-office viability for loose plots and even looser productions. In Gujjar’s case, the word is yet to run its complete course and Buddha Gujjar is fortunate enough to have used it when it is a bit of a novelty.

    The name of any movie in Pakistan is determined in three ways; by taking a cue from Indian cinema, by plagiarizing on popular TV plays, or, most importantly, by showing in no subtle way as to who has financed the project. When wrestlers from Gujranwala and Lahore’s Walled City are the producers, the names inevitably are Achha Shookarwala, Puttar Shahiyay Da etc; when student leaders are the financiers, films blatantly tout their names as a symbol of success in life and when the money comes from Gujjars like Haji Chaudhry Fakir Muhammad, the films produced are called Humayoon Gujjar, Jeeva Gujjar, Kala Gujjar and of course, Buddha Gujjar. Of late, Arains have taken the cue and expect a spate of movies with titles like Arain Da Kharak to hit the box office in coming months.

    So much for the name, perhaps. In fact, the movie’s importance in Syed Noor’s career lies not in the title but in the subject matter. Among the most successful directors today, he has completed a full circle to reach where he once was as a filmi writer – treading the beaten track as hardly as one could – though his first film as a writer, Society Girl, was no mean achievement.

    Following in the footsteps of film writers of late 1970s and early 1980s who would bank upon unrestrained violence to achieve success, he used to churn out stuff that can easily be labeled as run of the mill. The departure came with his directorial debut in Kasam. His Ghoonghat and Sangam were a breath of fresh air for a cinema splashed all over with bloody, violent colors. From then on he continued experimenting between flicks based on socio-familial and personal themes and in at least one case, tried to put violence in a context by producing Hawain, a movie based on the life of a student leader. In Buddha Gujjar, it seems, unrestrained violence has staged a comeback as far as Syed Noor’s artistic experience is concerned.

    Violence, however, is one thing people no longer bother about in a Lollywood movie. But the bad thing about violence in Buddha Gujjar is the fact that in most part of the movie it appears to be violence for the sake of it. The forces of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are there and they fight many a pitched battle but there emerges during the process someone who believes wholeheartedly in sheer killer instinct to make a name for himself. Fortunately, he is not the protagonist but the hard-skinned, obdurate son of the main character Buddha, a God-fearing, no nonsense, magnanimous Gujjar who till the end believes violence only breeds more violence, though he also believes in avenging himself of any wrong done against him without any help from the enforcers of law.

    Sharif – the son, nicknamed Jagga and played by Shaan, is finally killed in a police encounter but not before killing scores if not hundreds of policemen single-handedly. An ending like this may be an attempt by the director to show that violence without cause always ends in the blind alley of death. Also the fact that Buddha, played by Yousaf Khan, survives after finishing off all his enemies is symbolic of the victory of ‘good’ against ‘evil’.

    Not that the theme is the only stock thing about the movie. Stock scenes, stock situations and stock characters are conspicuous by their sheer and sometimes offensive presence. The skimpily dressed dancer swaying her body amid a crowd of fans, the drunkard, scheming, selfish villain deserting even the closest friend, the local Robin Hood magnanimously doling out loot to the poor and the self-sacrificing plebeians trying to protect their upper class benefactors all have a place, in most cases a prominent one, in Buddha Gujjar as they have had in countless other movies. The court, the courtesan’s salon, the police station and the hospital are also there as they have been in almost all movies since they first appeared on the filmi scene. The most ludicrous thing about the last place is not the amount of violence that takes place there but the ‘instant’ and ‘instinctive’ way in which blood transfusion takes place. The stock situations, inter alia, include a fight over attempts to monopolize the emotions of a courtesan and the defection of someone from the villain’s inner circle of confidantes.

    The saving grace of the movie is its realistic setting and an attempt to keep the wardrobe as wearable as possible, obviously with a couple of exceptions for lead female characters played by Saima and Resham. The music and the lyrics too are apt and evocative, though not memorable.

    The acting mostly is acceptable, if not good. But one man who stands head and shoulders above the rest of the cast as far as acting is concerned is Yousaf Khan. In fact, the role of an ageing but graceful man comes to him quite naturally. He does not need to act, rather he opts to under-act here and there. But even this suits him and the character. Shaan strives hard to play the spoilt guy but his attempt to always face the camera with eyes turned upwards sometimes irritates. Nawaz Khan and Arshad Mehmood do well.

    Turning back to the ‘formula’ thing. Once Sultan Rahi and Anjuman were the ‘formula’ couple of Punjabi movies. Now that they are out of the picture, Syed Noors of Pakistani tinsel town have been trying all along to find others who can fit the bill. This will hardly take the local cinema forward. But the Shaans and the Saimas, it seems, have started to adjust themselves to the directors’ design, by playing the same old ball in a not so new way – Aijaz Gul

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 2002, Genre – Drama, Country – Pakistan, Language – Punjabi, Producer – N/A, Director – Syed Noor, Music Director – N/A, Cast – Shaan, Nawaz Khan, Saima, Resham, Arshad Mehmood, Yousaf Khan

    Scripted by Perviaz Kaleem, the film establishes Shaan as a good-for-nothing jobless son of a chowkidar (watchman) played by Nadeem. With some help from his mother, Shaan manages to open an auto workshop. One fine day he gets into a brawl with some people and ends up turning into a trigger-happy creature. (For a better version of the same story, we suggest you see the Indian film Vaastav).

    Scriptwriter Pervaiz Kaleem himself stars in the film playing good old ‘lord’ Nana who gives refuge to Shaan whenever he is back from his gun-totting spree. Pervez Kaleem’s acting is no better than his scripts here.

    The characters are ill defined, too badly placed and timed. Resham plays the character of a girl-next-door living with her blind mother while Zara Sheikh plays the role of a call girl. Her performance here is nothing to write home about. Nirma too features as one of the famous faces and plays the daughter of a mafia boss, who loses his life to Shaan’s gun-totting adventures one day. Saud is the honest journalist (with a Mr. Ripley look) and Arbaz Khan is the useless son-in-law (ghar damad) who has vengeance and hatred for almost everyone without a reason. The characters are baseless with hardly any convincing reason to their presence in the film. And most of them roll over dead in the gruesome action clashes in the film. But before dying they do manage to take the time out to sing and dance with campfires, waterfalls, and Karachi’s beaches as some of the backdrops.

    Despite all this the film still lacks rich production values. Which brings us to the look of the characters, which is tacky and unconvincing to say the least. Shaan is usually wearing a black woolen cap and sporting awkward moustaches. And even though Nadeem appears with a moderate look, his woolen cap and gray moustache looks no different in this film than his countless other films in which he plays the role of a father.

    After watching Punjabi reprisal operas for almost two years (and Sangeeta has been a leading director of this genre), one is not impressed with the amount of ammunition and number of explosions or the buckets of red paint smeared on almost every character in Yeh Wada Raha.

    Khalid Riaz has done good camerawork but Qaiser’s cutting work is slow and dragging (one misses Zulfi’s sharp and crisp editing here). Wajad Ali Nashad’s score may be slightly above average but Yeh Wada Raha would never be remembered for its songs (considering the mediocrity in film music around us these days). Tu Hi Mera Dil and Yar Badshah are the only saving graces of the music track of the film.

    Yeh Wada Raha is an average effort. The film definitely had the potential to become one of the better products coming the entertainment starved audience way if the director hadn’t relied too much on star cast and paid some attention to the story itself. With so many films failing to leave an impression at the box office Yeh Wada Raha turns out to be one more that bites the dust – Aijaz Gul

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 2003, Genre – Action, Country – Pakistan, Language – Urdu, Producer – N/A, Director – Sangeeta, Music Director – N/A, Cast – Shaan, Zara Sheikh, Resham, Nirma, Arbaz Khan, Saud, Shafqat Cheema, Pervaiz Kaleem and Nadeem