Indianauteur reviews My Name is Khan

One more issue-based Bollywood releases, but this time, it has the biggest stars, the biggest director, and the biggest critic nexus to support it. Is it really as sincere about the issue as it claims to be?

The mainstream is homogenous in all major industrialised film setups. It is like the ingredients of a sip of Coca Cola, which are the same world over . Its homogenous nature stems foremost from its very definition: the act to please as many as possible, mostly to assure some pre-calculated gains. This intention to please; thus, determines in consequence, what the mainstream will accept within itself, and what it will reject. To be precise, any element that enhances the prospect of the pre-calculated gain will invariably find its way in the work of the mainstream. It is a rather simple formula. It is, however, not unreasonable to claim that there are artists within the mainstream who strive for more than mere juvenile ambitions.

We should only be too careful that we do not discard the entire realm of mainstream for if all art is relative, then the existence of mainstream is what makes it easier to appreciate the sporadic bursts of art in its wake. And yet, we only remain too eager to dismiss any effort made by the mainstream, because of our tendency to observe the monotony of all mainstream: the same clichés, the same tropes, the same tendencies, the same musical scores, the same camera angles, the same storylines, the same absence of any individual helming the affairs: “If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all”. Eventually, it is safe to claim that there is good mainstream like there is bad mainstream. The latter, much more than the former, but the former’s not extinct by any means. However, when we are done with both of them, we reach a third type of mainstream: the cinema of contempt. Karan Johar’s latest film, My Name is Khan, finds its place in the deepest recesses of this type.

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