Charming, almost chameleonic in his versatility and perhaps the only actor who can make a solid case for nepotism in Bollywood, Ranbir Kapoor is undoubtedly one of this generation's most compelling performers, a leading man whose effortless charisma and spontaneity have ensured that even the most mediocre films and scripts could be made bearable and intriguing on the silver screen.
As he takes on his most challenging role, playing the alternately famous and notorious Sanjay Dutt in Sanju, let's cast a backward glance at each of his performance ranked. To be honest, it is quite a uniformly impressive career with only one or two occasions when he has come off as only passable (and I am not counting Roy in which his role was merely a stand-in cameo).
15- Babli in Besharam (2013)
Despite his almost flawless oeuvre, there has to be even a nadir for the frequently reliable Kapoor and this, basically a cut-rate counterpart to his other, more effective goofball roles, fits the description. Dabangg helmer Abhinav Kashyap must have thought that his leading man's ham-fisted swagger could again overshadow the general mediocrity all around.
It might have worked out for an already overblown superstar like Salman Khan but Kapoor, a naturally cocky youngster, tries too hard and in vain to make the abysmal plot and low-grade laughs work. Still, it is to his credit that his car thief and prankster Babli is at least ludicrously enjoyable, provided you can forget his incredible work otherwise.
14- Akash in Anjaana Anjaani (2010)
I am not saying that Ranbir Kapoor was any offensively bad as a disillusioned suicidal worker who falls for the most frustratingly incoherent leading lady who is seemingly obsessed with a death wish. It is just that the film around him is, quite honestly, offensively bad, with nothing except spiffy visuals and equally spiffy and melodious chartbusters to hold our attention.
The rest of the time, Akash has to either agree dourly to Kiara's (Priyanka Chopra wasting her own talents at spontaneity) shoddy plans of self-destruction, look positively edible in stubble and glares in the Mojave Desert or even play a couple of masked superheroes when wooing his lady. Not bad at all, as I said.
13- Ranbir Raj in Saawariya (2007)
Considering what he made out of his choices in the years to follow, it feels ironically fitting that Kapoor's debut film Saawariya should be such a damp squib. Oh no, it is none of his fault; rather, he alone makes this cardboard-flaky, garish adaptation of Dostoevsky's White Nights soar on a couple of occasions with his relentless energy and almost poignant yearning (and mind you, it is not that scene with the towel).
Blame it on art director Omung Kumar who pours blue phenyl all over Ravi K. Chandran's frames and also melodrama master Sanjay Leela Bhansali for choosing the blandest heroine of all time and the most boringly superficial approach to a classic story of unrequited love.
12- Prem in Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani (2009)
Okay, we know just how good can this young actor be with goofy comedy. But while his titular Prem, as entertainingly ribald and unabashed as a once-funny Salman Khan, is every bit the Kishore Kumar-meets-Raj Kapoor loveable loon we want, Rajkumar Santoshi' well-intentioned attempt to replicate the magical hilarity of his true classic never quite sustains his charm.
The gags and pratfalls never quite come as generously as they should, as the film tacks on a rather unnecessary romance and then all the inevitable predictability instead of the comic fireworks that made Andaaz Apna Apna so memorable. Still, there is something to be said for the way he stares when heartbroken and besotted in love.
11- Raj in Bachna Ae Haseeno (2008)
As with some films in this list, you can trust Ranbir Kapoor to save even the most potentially problematic films into something breezily entertaining. But at least, compared to the more regrettable films in his career, Siddharth Anand's film had the benefit of gorgeous love ballads, some genuinely spunky repartee between the nicely etched characters and enough slick style to make your jaw drop.
And the boy himself looked supremely confident, glossing gleefully over his commitment-phobic loverboy's rough edges with a genuine dose of superb timing and pure clean-shaven charm. The rather contrived narrative twist in the middle also allows him to show his chops at sincerity and believability. And all this in only his second film.
Like Al Pacino in the 1970s, Kapoor was showing no signs of slowing down or even limiting himself to genres and comfort zones; after a spate of playing terrifically relatable youngsters or delicious chocolate boys, here he was sporting shades greyer than anyone else in Prakash Jha's political masala mess.
With the sleek, self-assured smoothness of Michael Corleone and a newfound intensity that made even the most over-plotted moments throb with purpose, here was, unexpectedly, a young dynamic talent coming of age, proving that he could smolder just as well as he could seduce. The film itself might be something of a ponderous yarn but Kapoor's Karan was as taut and terrific as he could be.
Abandoning the shelter of Bhansali and Aditya Chopra, Ranbir Kapoor dove into his first sensible role with genuine sincerity and gave us an aimless slacker with whom we could relate in all our confusion. Siddharth does pretty much next to nothing, comfortable for a while with his father's affluence until reality comes knocking on his door, propelling him to discover himself and then his capacity for initiative.
It's a simple, lingeringly sweet and even somewhat predictable journey of coming of age but Siddharth's moment of wake-up feels affectionate and heartfelt as we see a young, sweet-faced boy invest himself with such conviction to prove that there is a lot more to him than just that easy charm.
This was the film that proved to many of us that Ranbir Kapoor can do no wrong. Of course, he made the occasional mistakes with Besharam and Roy but the solid infallibility that he achieved for being both entertaining and endearing was first found in this mesmerizing, if a bit too uncannily similar to countless other films, fairytale set in misty and musical Darjeeling.
Playing deaf and mute can be quite an uphill task but never for once does the brilliant performer give us predictability. Instead, we root for Murphy, pronounced by him as Barfi, simply for the sheer infectious bravado that punctuates his actions and his decisions, his leap into bittersweet love and loss and his escape from every misadventure that comes along.
There is something sinfully addictive about Kabir Thapar aka Bunny whenever he pounces on the screen to steal hearts or make the girls swoon. This is a relentless prankster, a literally restless swashbuckler who never ever wants to stop, as he declares his own intentions to the beautiful spectacled girl who drinks in all his enthusiasm.
A few reels later, Kapoor digs out solitude and disillusionment as Kabir finally confronts his own wrangle between blossoming love and his yearning for adventure. Even with the lovely songs and cheeky fun, the film never quite explains his predicament satisfyingly but the actor himself is in full throttle, alternating between split-second wisecracks and a raffish affability that makes him still sweet as sugar. And man, what a left leg he has!
Unfairly overlooked even by hard-core fans, Kapoor’s Ved is actually the most convincingly complex characters that Imtiaz Ali has ever created in his films. He starts off as full of mischief and vigor (yes, he actually talks to the hills of Corsica when driving with a vivacious girl by his side) but when we see him next, he is an oddly mannered corporate slave stifling back his lunacy with a veneer of stoic indifference.
As the film and Kapoor’s constantly hypnotic performance begin to unravel, we discover just what inner demons really make him so frustratingly undecipherable. Most viewers wrote it off wrongly as familiar ground for the actor. Rather, this was a maddening, almost alienating intensity without ever sacrificing his inherent warmth.
It doesn’t take long for Ayan Sanger to fall head over heels in love. When he meets and befriends a spunky, sassy lass who won’t take anything lying down, you can see that he is already smitten. As they share their love for pulpy Bollywood trash and shove their respective lovers aside, you feel that this hapless lover is already headed towards slaughter.
And slaughter it is, for Kapoor’s Sanger, a foolish, even foolhardy victim of unrequited love as the actor, in peak form, breaks all our hearts with little more than hennaed hands and eyes that burn with wistful longing and betrayed passion. As he stumbles further on the path of love and lust, the rest of Karan Johar’s film goes spectacularly downhill but Kapoor alone proves painfully just how difficult it can be for the heart to move on.
It was high time since we had a boy hero who was less stoic than Tintin and less tormented than Harry Potter and also had the probing curiosity and boyish innocence of both. And yet Ranbir Kapoor's Jagga, propelled by the comic-book quirky imagination of Anurag Basu, gave us more than that: a devilishly clever and irresistibly sweet hero with a plucky adventurous spirit that itself makes the wild and wacky film roar.
It is also bloody refreshing to see a performer embracing gleefully the topsy-turvy nuttiness of the material. Sure we see Jagga hurtle through many a bracing action set-piece but Kapoor also throws himself gamely at deliciously unhinged musical interludes with true relish. The way he jerks his hips when singing about a 'magic knot'. The way he improvises his beatboxing to form sentences in song. The way he sings and dances his way out of certain death. Or even the way he stutters while sobbing when finally meeting his estranged father. And to think that he was a man in his 30s.
'He used to be big shot' mutters Johnny Balraj staring at his mirror, a Bombay crook grown not on revenge but on cinematic myth. After a James Cagney starrer blew his mind with its almost perversely tragic climax, Balraj had only one ambition that he shared with every other denizen of this brutal yet beautiful city: to be a big shot. By then, Kapoor's gloriously hot-headed and unhinged antihero has already won half the game by making us root for his relentless thirst to make it big, to paint his white-hot romance with jazz singer Rosie Noronha in golden jubilee glory.
Of course, the city has other plans for this impulsive, cocky and even borderline nihilistic dreamer as he falls in his desperate bid for success, respect and the Bombay Dream itself. Yet, as with every other unforgettable and doomed rebel in Anurag Kashyap's searing cinema, we are seduced totally by how this flawed yet fabulously believable anarchist sets out to defeat the status quo with a suicidal determination that feels even heroic. Kapoor's inflammable performance, armed with Tommy Gun temper and slithery, slinky charisma lends a bigger stick of dynamite to Kashyap's existing bundle of explosive storytelling.
It is not easy being Janardhan Jakhar. When filled with the sincere ambition to be a as badass as Jim Morrison, he is told that he simply does not have that elusive thing that defines a truly awesome rock god. When his heart falls and then breaks in his love for a smashingly beautiful lass with whom romance can only be a minefield, he is suddenly the angry, anguished raging bull who rallies and rouses the crowds without quite understanding why.
Imtiaz Ali's majestic, if a tad too messed-up in the final act, musical romance sets out to find the answer to his predicament but Kapoor's passionate, pitch-perfect and devastatingly poignant performance is so full of beautifully portrayed pain that the answer might be merely heartbreak, itself reason alone for not only confusion but also catharsis. Rockstar showcases the actor's flawless mastery of every facet of his performance, from his effortless chops at physical comedy to the heart-pounding intensity to his anger and desire. With both the tenderness of a shattered lover and the unbridled fury of a rock legend, he ensures that we always believe in his yearning and pray desperately for his heart to be mended again.
In his entire body of work, Ranbir Kapoor has played some of the most enigmatic and intriguing characters who have made otherwise humdrum or even inconsistent films much more intriguing than expected. They include anti-heroes, lovably goofy loverboys, rockstars and detectives and grown-up men who need to come of age and discover the meaning of love. His sheer boyish, believable appeal has made even the most fundamentally flawed characters so likeable and appealing. But it was on one extraordinary occasion when he played a real hero, a youngster endowed with diligent determination and incorruptible honesty, an initially naive doe-eyed kid who stumbles on his own moral integrity but chooses to fight back and build a better world for himself and for all.
Kapoor's Harpreet, a lean and lanky Sikh college boy who has just scraped through his exams for graduation, is that unlikely hero and right from the beginning, as we see him declare his intentions, we know that this is a sincerely enthusiastic lad who won't take it lying down. Even he is blinded by his own idealism and collides with the inevitable reality of how things actually work in the world of sales, he refuses to oblige and we egg him on; we want his genuine, utterly endearing goodness to win as we would always want good to trump evil.
It is a masterful, superbly nuanced performance full of the smallest strokes that add up to a magnificent whole of heroism. The astutely directed and written film is also enlivened with a terrific ensemble cast of little-known but highly proficient performers who flesh out their roles with such scene-stealing effect but even with them in the frame, Kapoor's warmth and wit endure as he holds his staunch moral ground firmly and makes us cheer at each of his triumphs and believe in the stakes that he is up against. Sure, there are a lot of unpredictable wonders that the actor has churned out in his mostly excellent career but sometimes, what works best is a true hero, a hero worth believing in and a hero that we really need in our times of dishonesty and disillusionment. Rocket Singh, we salute you.
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