'Angry Young Men' Review: A Meek, Bland Ode To Bollywood바카라�s Edgiest Screenwriters

In the mid-바카라�80s, a group of Hong Kong action movies바카라�replacing the traditional kung fu weapons with guns and explosives바카라�heralded a new genre in the country바카라�s cinema called 바카라�heroic bloodshed바카라�. Its key proponents included directors John Woo and Ringo Lam. The genre바카라�s first film, Woo바카라�s A Better Tomorrow (1986), was partly inspired from a 1979 drama, The Brothers, which was a remake of바카라� Deewar. Benefitting from A Better Tomorrow바카라�s success, Lam directed City on Fire (1987), a famous heroic bloodshed drama, which Tarantino liked so much that he borrowed vital elements from it to make Reservoir Dogs. So, in essence, Deewar -> The Brothers -> A Better Tomorrow ----heroic bloodshed genre---->City on Fire -> Reservoir Dogs.

This, my friends, is a Salim-Javed moment.

And not even my first. That came when I found out that they had painted their names on the posters of Zanjeer (1973). Hollywood screenwriters protested the industry바카라�s exploitative practices in a months-long strike last year. The OG cool cats, Salim-Javed, painted their dissent five decades ago. And this week, I had my third Salim-Javed moment while watching a (long-due) documentary on them, Angry Young Men. At one point in the third episode, we see a clip from the duo바카라�s Haath Ki Safai (1974), where Vinod Khanna catches Randhir Kapoor stealing his wallet and says, 바카라�Bache, tum jis school mein padhte ho, hum uske headmaster reh chuke hain.바카라� Even without watching this film, I바카라�ve been using this line since my childhood바카라�for decades바카라�unaware of its origin. Classic Salim-Javed: They had sauntered into my life when I just began to live it.

Directed by Namrata Rao바카라�whose editing oeuvre in the late aughts and 2010s, much like Renu Saluja바카라�s in the 바카라�80s, encapsulates a mini-film movement in Bollywood바카라�Angry Young Men starts on a pleasant note. Here we meet a young, dapper man, Salim, wanting to be an actor. The documentary indeed frames him (and Javed Akhtar) like heroes: confident, clean-shaven, charming, flashing conspiratorial smiles from the black-and-white photographs. It functions as an in-joke: In a star-worshipping industry, two writers are presented as stars. The pages from their screenplays rustle on screen, almost implying that, in the universe of Salim-Javed, the directors just executed their visions.

Angry Young Men uses many clips from their movies바카라�imbuing it with a delectable flavour of old Bollywood바카라�which also illustrates deft editing (by Geeta Singh). Quite early in the first episode, we see rapid scenes comprising iconic dialogues from Salim-Javed films by fans and actors. Ranveer Singh reeling off a line from Deewar바카라�Aaj mere paas building hai, property hai ... tumhare paas kya hai?바카라�cuts to AR Rahman saying 바카라�mere paas maa hai바카라� on the Oscars stage in 2009. This one transition distils the writers바카라� essence: yatra, tatra, sarvatra바카라�here, there, everywhere.

In a culture, which barely cares for preserving its own heritage (cinematic or otherwise), it바카라�s important that a documentary바카라�or a document바카라�like this exists. More so because it tells a decades-old story whose protagonists may not be around for long. Consider this film itself: The hands of Akhtar and Helen, 79 and 85, shake with such intensity that, at times, I wanted to look away. Wrinkles inundate the wrists of octogenarian Salim. Their lives hold crucial keys and clues to the myths and mechanics of Bollywood바카라�a film industry coursing in our veins, defining our meanings of aspiration, triumph, love, life itself.

Yet a paradox tails Angry Young Men: access. That바카라�s the bare-minimum you need to make a piece like this: access to the principal and ancillary talking heads, access to the movie clips (controlled by stringent copyright laws), access to funds. But considering the frail egos of many Bollywood celebrities, chances are high a filmmaker wouldn바카라�t get any kind of access if she wants to make a penetrating (yet fair) documentary on their lives. Even beyond the people and clips, though, it바카라�s the access to money that matters the most.

Consider the two most notable movies in this genre: a documentary on Yash Raj Films produced by Yash Raj Films, The Romantics (2023), where I must mention, in the spirit of full disclosure, that I appeared as a talking head) and a documentary on Salim-Javed presented and produced by their children, Salman Khan, Farhan Akhtar, and Zoya Akhtar. Much in the same way you don바카라�t bite the hand that feeds바카라�you also don바카라�t film the flaws that you see. Or, at the very least, you find a way to soften the blows: to ensure that the celebrities, and not the cinephiles, have the last word.

There바카라�s nothing wrong with the format. Even here, some people, such as Jaya Bachchan and Honey Irani (Akhtar바카라�s ex-wife), do reveal significant, precise details about the writers: that how they loved praising themselves, that how success had gone to their heads, that how they had turned arrogant바카라�factors that may have precipitated their downfall. But besides these exceptions, most celebrities talk in banal generalities, including바카라�and especially바카라�Amitabh Bachchan, the angry young man. It바카라�s legit baffling, as the actor and the writers shared a fascinating relationship, reminding you of the chicken-or-the-egg question: Who made whom? Could Bachchan have become a star without Salim-Javed? Could Salim-Javed have become as big without Bachchan? But let alone saying anything revealing, the actor looks borderline disinterested. Even the veteran journalists, such as Bhawana Somaaya, Bharathi Pradhan, and Anupama Chopra, largely provide facts, not insights.

At one point in the third episode, Angry Young Men sharpens its claws. After Kareena Kapoor Khan has spoken about how the duo wrote 바카라�strong female characters바카라�, a series of movie clips endorse that point. It cuts to screenwriter Anjum Rajabali saying the actresses had 바카라�promising backgrounds바카라�, but 바카라�the moment바카라� they entered the 바카라�hero바카라�s plot바카라�, they became 바카라�inconsequential바카라�. He gives an example: Hema Malini in Trishul (1978), the CEO of a construction company, which means she바카라�s 바카라�absolutely in business바카라�. But 바카라�what does she do바카라� instead? He whistles: 바카라�She sings some wonderful songs.바카라�     

The documentary cuts to Reema Kagti and Zoya Akhtar. It was the 바카라�time they were writing in,바카라� says Kagti (an argument we바카라�ve only heard 10,000 times before), then cites Seeta Aur Geeta (1972). 바카라�All their women were strong characters,바카라� adds Zoya. 바카라�They all had agency.바카라� The documentary changes track, and we see a scene from Dostana (1980). But what should have really followed was a clip from Sholay (1975), where Veeru (Dharmendra), in the guise of 바카라�teaching바카라� Basanti (Hema Malini) how to fire a gun, keeps touching her, much to her initial confusion. It바카라�s a complicated scene, where a woman바카라�s discomfort is first played for laughs (as Jai says, 바카라�Maine toh aankh pehle hi band kar rakhi hai바카라�) but ends with her berating Veeru. How tough was it for this documentary to imply that, regarding female characters, Salim-Javed바카라�s oeuvre tells a more complex story? But no, it must contrive a disingenuous endorsement-criticism-endorsement sequence to squash our doubts.  

Then there바카라�s the question of writers in Bollywood. Here, too, we get some remarkable, revealing quotes (and not in the way the talking heads intended). First, Karan Johar, a powerful producer, remembers how in Dharma Productions바카라� first film, Dostana, Salim-Javed demanded a lakh more than Bachchan. 바카라�Can you imagine today if a writer said, 바카라�I want a crore more than Salman Khan?바카라�바카라� He smiles in disbelief: 바카라�It바카라�s unheard of.바카라� (Why is it 바카라�unheard of바카라�, I wonder, do producers have some part to play in it?)

Aamir Khan, who clashed with Amol Gupte over the director바카라�s credit for Taare Zameen Par (2007), puts his own spin on it: 바카라�If you바카라�re saying a writer should be the highest paid in the project, then that should happen and that바카라�s possible. But for that, they바카라�d have to be as big as Salim-Javed.바카라� It바카라�s a typical Aamir Khan response who, once responding to the underpayment of actresses, had said that an actor gets paid according to their 바카라�ability to fill the theatres바카라�. His argument wasn바카라�t just logically flawed바카라�many successful actresses don바카라�t earn close to their (mediocre) male counterparts바카라�but also glosses over the darkness in the heart of Bollywood: that the stars and producers have ensured that the screenwriters languish at the bottom of this 바카라�caste system바카라�. Take Zanjeer (1973), for instance, where the director, Prakash Mehra, backed Salim-Javed even after several stars rejected the script. Mehra was a rare breed바카라�a director who knew that, in a film, the real star is the story itself.

To call Angry Young Men a missed opportunity is a colossal understatement. Forget any shred of interrogation, the documentary doesn바카라�t even examine the minds of Bollywood바카라�s finest screenwriters. There바카라�s hardly any insight into how the two collaborated, how Salim conceived his stories, how Akhtar wrote his razor-sharp dialogues, and so on. Did they disagree바카라�when, where, how? No idea. Did they run into stumbling blocks바카라�when, where, how? No idea. What, according to them, is a perfect screenplay? Why has Bollywood lacked the Salim-Javed touch for decades? What made them split? And why was their split so bitter that, even decades later in a documentary on their lives, they don바카라�t even occupy the same frame (except for a photo shoot at the end)? Why should I bother to watch this and not one of the many vapid, bland interviews clogging my social media feed, where the journalists and the celebrities are in perfect sync with each other, all agreeable, all smiling, all #GoodVibesOnly? Or, to paraphrase a much beloved line by another great writer, Gulzar, Is PR ko PR hi rehne do, ise koi naam na do.  

As if waking up from a stupor, the documentary does try to glean some insights from Salim-Javed about the making of a writer, but it바카라�s way too little, way too late. Angry Young Men also feels sloppily structured, with random segues into their personal lives that takes it to a point of no return. Because making a hagiography is one thing; making a hagiographic home video quite the other. Or, more simply, this film has a narrative, but it lacks a story바카라�a soul. This movie also points to a particular moment in our influencer-driven pop culture, where we바카라�ve put celebrities on a pedestal so high바카라�via puff pieces, podcasts, and 바카라�interviews바카라�바카라�that we can do nothing but crane our necks to admire them. And given this trend has begun to mark the self-congratulatory documentaries, tripping on 바카라�nostalgia바카라�, we바카라�ll get more of these: thumbs-up for the stars, thenga for the audiences.