The bonds of brotherhood, the laws of loyalty, and the futility of violence in the shadows of the US Mexico border gang wars.
Director: Vidhu Vinod Chopra
Writers: Vidhu Vinod Chopra, Abhijat Joshi
Stars: Sadie Alexandru, Scott Aschenbrenner, Chad Bishop | See full cast and crew »
Storyline
The bonds of brotherhood, the laws of loyalty, and the futility of
violence in the shadows of the US Mexico border gang wars.
Broken Horses User Reviews
11 April 2015 |
Working with a general summation of art, no artist really revisits their creation. Yes they might hark back to a few individual themes, but no one really gets down to recreating a piece of art, as it was. Especially not when its a classic. Da Vinci never sat down to paint another Sistine Chapel. Rabindranath Tagore did not recompile the Gitanjali. Even the great Yash Chopra never really got down to refilming one of his classics. It boils down to impulse and lack of design playing an important serendipitous role in creating great art.
But when you do attempt to be over ambitious and recreate a Hindi film in Hollywood, chances are you'll end up with a novice creation. That's how you could describe the journey of Parinda to Broken Horses. Lost in translation would be an understatement. The original story of Parinda, two brothers in the edgy midst of the underworld, trying to break free from a mercurial Mafia king pin, is intact in its Western retelling. Mumbai's underbelly has been replaced with the barren border terrain of the US-Mexico border. The characters are all white. The emotions are all scattered. The story is in shambles. Sixteen years ago, in a film industry obsessed with curry westerns and Oxford Street fashion, Parinda was a game changer. Broken Horses is just a shoddy revisit of that memorable film. Worst part is, it's left out all the good parts of the original. The manic intensity of Nana Patekar's Anna is replaced by some textbook hamming by Vincent D'Onofrio. The sacrificing big brother character of Jackie Shroff is replaced by the theatrical and clichéd simple boy played by Chris Marquette. The ahead-of-its- time love making scene has been conspicuously left out.
The vengeful drama in the climax has been convoluted into an uninspired piece of writing. Even the supporting character of Iqbal, the younger brother's confidant is reduced to a razzie material stereotype. Something's amiss in Vidhu Vinod Chopra's execution. This is the same filmmaker who made Parinda and Khamoshi. Yet, his vision on Broken Horses exhibits an uncharacteristic novice nature. Surprisingly the amateur efforts, aren't just limited to the story telling. Barring some excellent cinematography, the production as well as costume work is very lacklustre. The visuals look good, but everything else in the making of this motion picture doesn't seem to well thought out. The ranch, where all the drama unfolds looks like an amusement park for God's sake. The performances are all sub standard barring the efforts of Anton Yelchin. He lends some credibility to this movie. Films are just another form of art. They benefit from the inspirations and enthusiasm of their creator. Like any other form of art, they can suffer if the vision is skewered or contrived. In his ambitious Hollywood foray, Vidhu Vinod Chopra wanted to prove that Indian filmmakers are better than just song and dance junkies. That we can match Hollywood's game in their playing field. And therein lies the biggest flaw. Imitation might be the sincerest form of flattery. But end of the day, flattery is also described as pleasing self- deception.
Broken Horses User Reviews
11 April 2015 |
Working with a general summation of art, no artist really revisits their creation. Yes they might hark back to a few individual themes, but no one really gets down to recreating a piece of art, as it was. Especially not when its a classic. Da Vinci never sat down to paint another Sistine Chapel. Rabindranath Tagore did not recompile the Gitanjali. Even the great Yash Chopra never really got down to refilming one of his classics. It boils down to impulse and lack of design playing an important serendipitous role in creating great art.
But when you do attempt to be over ambitious and recreate a Hindi film in Hollywood, chances are you'll end up with a novice creation. That's how you could describe the journey of Parinda to Broken Horses. Lost in translation would be an understatement. The original story of Parinda, two brothers in the edgy midst of the underworld, trying to break free from a mercurial Mafia king pin, is intact in its Western retelling. Mumbai's underbelly has been replaced with the barren border terrain of the US-Mexico border. The characters are all white. The emotions are all scattered. The story is in shambles. Sixteen years ago, in a film industry obsessed with curry westerns and Oxford Street fashion, Parinda was a game changer. Broken Horses is just a shoddy revisit of that memorable film. Worst part is, it's left out all the good parts of the original. The manic intensity of Nana Patekar's Anna is replaced by some textbook hamming by Vincent D'Onofrio. The sacrificing big brother character of Jackie Shroff is replaced by the theatrical and clichéd simple boy played by Chris Marquette. The ahead-of-its- time love making scene has been conspicuously left out.
The vengeful drama in the climax has been convoluted into an uninspired piece of writing. Even the supporting character of Iqbal, the younger brother's confidant is reduced to a razzie material stereotype. Something's amiss in Vidhu Vinod Chopra's execution. This is the same filmmaker who made Parinda and Khamoshi. Yet, his vision on Broken Horses exhibits an uncharacteristic novice nature. Surprisingly the amateur efforts, aren't just limited to the story telling. Barring some excellent cinematography, the production as well as costume work is very lacklustre. The visuals look good, but everything else in the making of this motion picture doesn't seem to well thought out. The ranch, where all the drama unfolds looks like an amusement park for God's sake. The performances are all sub standard barring the efforts of Anton Yelchin. He lends some credibility to this movie. Films are just another form of art. They benefit from the inspirations and enthusiasm of their creator. Like any other form of art, they can suffer if the vision is skewered or contrived. In his ambitious Hollywood foray, Vidhu Vinod Chopra wanted to prove that Indian filmmakers are better than just song and dance junkies. That we can match Hollywood's game in their playing field. And therein lies the biggest flaw. Imitation might be the sincerest form of flattery. But end of the day, flattery is also described as pleasing self- deception.
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