Recently,
I was part of a discussion on films and cricket, and whether a successful
confluence of the two was possible. The venerable Sam Collins had most of us
agreeing when he pointed out that a major obstacle was the fact that sport
regularly provided the sort of implausible scenarios that would come across as
trite if scripted. Ashton Agar's 98 on debut from No. 11 in the Ashes was one
such example. My own feeling was that, in addition, the viewer's experience
would be let down by a cinematic approach to depicting the game, particularly
the use of sound effects and gameplay.
In
that sense, it is plausible that masala films would provide the most agreeable
paradigm for cinematically translating cricket. Referred to as masala for their
mixture of genres (action and comedy and romance and drama), such films are
part of a greater tradition of oral narrative. Think epics with linear plots,
comedic and musical tangents, simple good v evil dynamics, happy endings.
Originally
looked down upon by intellectuals, masala films with their populism and mass
appeal are now embraced and celebrated thanks to post-modernism. In the context
of cricket and films, this means that an over-the-top storyline, bombastic
characters and sounds, as well as a sickeningly saccharine resolution would be
expected rather than dreaded. After all, the ultimate aim of any masala film is
to entertain the public. (Gee, I wonder who that reminds us of?)
Main
Hoon Shahid Afridi (I am Shahid Afridi) is a story of an underdog team's rise
against the backdrop of a fictional domestic cricket tournament in Pakistan. It
revolves principally around Akbar Deen, a former international cricketer
seeking redemption after a UAE drugs scandal left him shunned. He is the
reluctant coach of the Sialkot Shaheens, owned by the hilarious yet lovable
Malick Khalid, and led by Shahid Bhatti - an amateur cricketer hoping to become
Boom Boom. Pitted against them is the magnificently Modi/Packer/Stanford-esque
Mian Asif, who owns the Islamabad Hunters - a team of boys from the "elite
ruling class". Mian Asif, in the first of a million twists, is also
Akbar's father-in-law.
As
a film, MHSA is quite ludicrous in its construction. Despite a street-smart
score and decent soundtrack, the remarkably funny and sharp dialogue is
recorded in a way as to make it seem to belong to an error-strewn student film.
The colour correction is similarly jarring, displaying as much logic as a
typical Afridi innings, often completely changing tones mid-scene. And even
making allowances for the masala format, many of the plot lines are lazily
developed and hastily resolved. Nevertheless the depleted nature of Pakistani
cinema's intellectual, technical and financial resources requests, if not
demands, a level of charitableness in opinion.
To
be a successful masala film, MHSA required an underlying fantasy; the earliest
masala films were about mythological tales. In Pakistan during the past few
decades, the local film industry saw its fortunes dwindle, but blindly held
onto the once-popular but increasingly irrelevant gandasa-wielding badmaash
formula, based on violent rural revenge fantasies. The genius behind MHSA, in
contrast, is its expropriation of cricket as the overarching source of the
fantasy on which its plot is based, a relatively unprecedented approach in
mainstream Pakistani cinema.
The
requisite good v evil narrative of every masala film is provided in MHSA by the
class differences - rather than regional, ethnic or religious ones - with the
rich Islamabad Hunters players being "gentlemen who will speak and talk to
foreigners without feeling insecure".
In
contrast, the Sialkot Shaheens are all working-class ruffians who have little
other than their dreams. There are numerous father-son conflicts throughout the
plot, which are resolved through the traditional miracle-of-god* and
tears-of-mother approach, but also through cricket. The game exists as one of
the archetypes upon which the film's moral universe rests.
In
fact, cricket completely permeates the film. Crooked umpires, Martin Crowe's
1992 World Cup strategies, dressing-room bust-ups, on-field bust-ups, press
conference bust-ups, Shoaib and Sania, the street-urchin-turned-Test-star, IPL
parties, fast bowlers on PEDs, Allen Stanford's helicopter at Lord's, Kamran
Akmal's keeping, Qadir teaching Warne how to bowl a googly with an apple, the
MCC (Malik Cricket Club), Miandad at Sharjah, post-match interviews in English,
over-age players in a U-19 side, bitchy journalists, old Pepsi ads with Imran
and the two Ws - the film is jam-packed with cricket references, woven into a
populist, aspirational story.
In
being such, the film offers a window into Pakistan; a window only as true as an
Afridi hoick that ends up over cover for six, but a window nevertheless that
shows a Pakistani identity far more endearing and relatable than the infinite
attempts made post 9/11 by the media, and in literature and film.
To
use a cliché when it is finally due, MHSA is a truly "mercurial"
film.
*(It
actually rains right at the very moment the cocky Australian coach of the
Hunters mocks the Shaheens with the immortal line: "Ab kahan hai tumhara
khuda? Where is your God now?")
Main
Hoon Shahid Afridi
Dir:
Syed Ali Raza Usama
Starring:
Hamza Abbasi, Mohammad Ahmad, Ainan Arif
Rating
: 4.5/5
Article
By: Ahmer Naqvi
Posted
on CRICINFO.com
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