Dard lives up to its name, painfully

When the word 'intermission' was shown on the big screen, I took a big swig at my bottle of soda, which I had expertly smuggled inside the hall, and closed my eyes to give my brain the well-deserved rest it needed to process the film, so far. 

Suddenly, I felt a poke at my side. The lady beside me had woken me up as I was snoring loudly. I missed about 10 minutes of the film's second half, and judging by the rest—I hadn't missed much. 

I am no film purist or artsy snob and have weathered my fair share of trainwreck films. The new Shakib Khan film 'Dard' ended up becoming my sir-dard or headache. It is disappointing, to say the least, as the psychological thriller could've been a good film with proper execution. A psychological thriller is certainly a novel concept for a Bangla movie. 

However, some films suffer from a lack of good plots, while others suffer from poor directorial work. Unfortunately, Dard suffered from both. 

Dard (launched in Bangla as Dorod) is a Bangladesh-India joint venture psychological romantic thriller film written, co-produced and directed by Anonno Mamun. Kamal Mohammad Kibria Lipu, Ashok Dhanuka and Himanshu Dhanuka produced the film under the banners of Action Cut Entertainment, Kibria Films, and Eskay Movies, respectively. 

Initially dubbed as Shakib Khan's debut Pan-Indian movie, the film created much hype initially when the makers teased about Bollywood actresses pairing up with him. 

After a spate of successful films like 'Priyotoma', 'Rajkumar' and 'Toofan', the audience has been excited for the film. It reflected in the ticket sales on the first day, where Dard sold more tickets than Toofan. 

Some film theatres outside Dhaka were reopened just for this film. So, it looked promising as I entered the houseful hall on a weekday afternoon show. 

The plot goes somewhat like this: After a spate of murders targeting prominent Varanasi residents, police investigators identify Dulu Mia, a Bangladeshi immigrant auto driver, as a suspect, sparking inquiries into the reason behind the killings. I had to write it here because there's no way the audience can understand it while watching the film. 

The film is an incoherent mess of back and forths, scenes jumping from the present day to the past, and jumbled subplots. 

The dialogues were cringeworthy, the actors spoke like animated characters, and it felt like watching a Bangla-dubbed Hindi film, as the lips didn't sync at times. The sound quality was jarring, the camera work was sloppy, and the cinematography felt nauseating. 

The screenplay suffered from acute brainlessness; the plot was nonsensical, to say the least; and the performance of the actors was lacking immensely. 

Nobody but Shakib Khan could show commitment to their roles, and by God, the man pulled the film alone with his shoestrings. He showed his acting prowess and delivered his heart out to the half-baked role he was given. Only his performance showed resolve, but he was dealt a shoddy character with no flesh or soul—and it hurts to see his hard work go to waste. 

The lead actress Sonal Chauhan, felt clueless in the film. The glamorous actress brought charm to the big screen. There was a warm intensity in her eyes, but her character was so void of anything of substance. And since the character was poorly written she brought little to the table other than her presence. 

Payel Sarkar as a pregnant police detective tried to work around her character but her costume and make-up stuck out like a sore thumb. She was supposed to be perpetually tired and drained, yet persevering through her duties—but she looked just like me on Thursday morning—sleep-deprived and reeling from lower back pain. 

Safa Marua, a model-turned-actress, had much potential as the female antagonist. She had the aura of a femme-fatale, but again, the plot wasted her as well. She had the eyes for the role, but it was not enough. 

And Rahul Dev, as a movie star who fans go gaga over was not convinving at all. His performance was heartfelt, but he looked too old to be considered a superstar. 

The rest of the cast was unintentionally funny and presented a lackluster performance. 

Words like wasted opportunity are used often, and most use it generously, including myself. But Dard is one of the films that is truly a wasted opportunity in every sense. It had a brilliant, unconventional theme, and under a better screenwriter and director, it would've been a decent film. 

But it felt like the film was made with not much care; it felt rushed and incomplete. And the script felt like it was written by an amateur who has seen neither a police procedural film nor a decent psychological thriller. I wish I could say that it was written by Chatgpt, but it is yet unable to work with either Bangla or Hindi scripts. 

The characters talked in a weird Bangla peppered with Hindi words and phrases. The film had no explanation for why it was set in Varanasi or why the lead character is a Bangladeshi intruder. Or why it chose the laziest route, wasting so many interesting avenues. Or most importantly, why is it, in fact, an Indian film with just Shakib Khan at the helm? 

It could be all forgiven, just like Toofan, if it was a good masala commercial potboiler. It's not. It has no decent song, no good action set-pieces, or any coherence of any sort. In the end, the audience was left to wonder—What sin have they all committed to enduring such an excruciating charade deceptively labeled as a film?