Thursday, November 12, 2015

Prem Ratan Dhan Paayo par Main tho Takh gayo !

It is just so difficult to be unkind to someone who must be such a sweet person in real life. A person who has made sweet mushy movies like HAHK, MPK, HSSH that we loved unequivocally.   We left our bitterness at home and relished the sweet dish served by this angel on the celluloid, amazed that this goodness if it really existed was heavenly. And then we went back to our not so sweet homes.

So why are we trying to be unkind. Well not exactly unkind. Just struggling to grope for words that can describe vacuous puerile and imbecile plots as vacuous puerile and imbecile. Oops!  It was not supposed to come out like that!

The music that was released before was tantalizing. The teasers seemed to have everything right. The helicopter shots which is being reinvented with different speeds and angles from Mughal E Azam days. The symmetric choreography of thousands of dancers. And no they did not seem morphed.  Sonam Kapoor doing a Madhuri from HAHK resting like a mermaid in a subdued beautiful Blue. Salman looking all gooey eyed explicitly portraying infinite goodness different from the aggressive intimidation he reserves for a reality show. There were huge Havelis encompassing the 70mm landscape. The teasers were alright. And with those delightful songs the formula seemed set. Till of course we land up for the actual show.

Now living in a city where movies do release earlier can be an advantage or a disadvantage depending on whether you want to be the first to enjoy good creative work or be the first to suffer the ignominy of relentless exhibition of lack of imagination on the screen. Sadly the second one defines every moment of this movie and it is indeed tragic coming as it does from the noble stable of Rajshris

You give out a big sigh as a RamLeela song unfolds for the umpteenth time in recent movies. You wonder if the Bajrangi song has been superimposed with Salman and Tikka et al. A commoner (Salman) in Ayodhya going by the name of Dilwale Prem stars in folk tale enactment in a small village. He is enamored by a princess (Sonam) who does charity work that needs collection of funds in 1 kg tin cans. She is engaged to a prince (Guess who again) who meets with a deadly twist even before he is introduced properly. The prince and the commoner have things in common including looks.

The pauper is made to stand in for the missing prince by the loyalist Dewan (Anupam Kher) till they are able to stave off coups by the prince’s evil brother ( Neil Nitin Mukesh)  and safeguard the kingdom.  There are two step sisters too who live in an adjoining mini palace and live their life cutting vegetables for their lunch or animatedly washing clothes with a washing beetle ( yes they still have them) perhaps to depict the economic status of the deprived princesses. The stand in Proxy prince has to correct the relationships,  provide the comic relief and of course woo the princess he so admires.

That is a lot of work and one can imagine that it must have required a lot of mathematical formulas to put all the characters together and intertwine their situations suitably.  True but no one seems to make an effort. So much attention seems to have gone into the ornate sets and elaborate accumulation of dancers making synchronized moves that they did not have space even to keep the injured characters in a proper hospital but rather depend on a an Aladdin type cave where the rocks moves at the entrance and finally the plot went down the hill along with a horse drawn carriage.

IPhone / Notebooks freely dot the landscape where kings and queens still exist, where the subjects seem to have no other work than to dance for their royalty. Mercedes cars  run shoulder to shoulder with horse drawn carriages. Roads on the hills look down steep cliffs and horses decide to fly off them for no reason. Water abounds in an area which seems to be situated in a desert zone judging from the types of palaces that abound.

Thirty minutes into the movie and I had already given up trying to make sense of anything.  There is no clarity on time era. Ludicrous settings make the story extremely implausible. Not sure if it is a period film or a modern day tale.

One imagines that the director is fighting an internal battle with himself. He must have started to make a mushy period film with kings and princesses. The pressure of the box office must have made him include some unusual violence. Salman is barely held back in his act as he seems ready to go into his Dabang act. Half way he indeed finds a plot convenience with the princess and asks her if they can quit being royalty just giving them the right excuse to launch into masti songs acts.

Perhaps unbeknownst to Sooraj Barjatya there are instances of cleavage show creeping in. Which is a shocker for his brand of movies. There are suggestive references in the song and scenes made but quickly withdrawn before they enter into the ribald zone.

To be kind let us say it is a plotless, timeless film with no pretentions of being entertaining.
Salman’s sincerity which helps ludicrous scenes look a bit entertaining, Anupam Kher’s tried and tested act, interestingly Swara Bhaskar’s act which stands out despite the insignificant act length and most importantly excellent music from Himesh are the saving graces of the movie.

Himesh should be complimented for providing roti to his reality show contestants who do a great job in “ Jalte Diya” and “ Prem leela”. Shaan sounds good despite trying to mimic Udit and Kumar Sanu in the nice sounding “Aaj Unse Milne hain”. Halo RE seems to be trying to get into the Bhansali arena and Tod Tadaiya trying to provide a Dabang opportunity to Salman.

One curious aspect of the movie is the act of Sonam. She looks isolated and seems to amuse herself with her own act , sharing no chemistry with the hero besotted. She reminds you of Rekha in many ways and is hopelessly miscast.

Earnest request  to Sooraj – we love your movies the way they are. This world requires some affection and sweetness. But don’t start mixing up and serving a concoction of Bajrangi Bhaijaan and HAHK. Just does not work.

The city I live in apparently sliced off a few minutes from the 180 minutes. Wonder how tough it must be for the people enduring the entire length. 

Main tho Thak gayo

**


Saturday, November 7, 2015

Plagued by a word


I was very annoyed. My shirts and pants were not being laundered well. I had walked into office with a wrinkled shirt and people who never ever wished me a ‘Good morning’ had suddenly gone “ Hey Happy Wrinkles”. My hands first rushed to my face to check for bodily wrinkles creeping in with age before sighing with relief at the more synthetic reference being made.

The laundry man stood at my door step.

‘ Look Dhobi Saab I pay you well and wait patiently for the delivery and you cannot just get me wrinkled pants and shirts “ I said my face reasonably grim

“ Saab, you seem to have become intolerant nowadays”  the Dhobi replied looking quite grim himself.

“ What ?” Wondering if I had heard right

“ Intolerant Saab. Highly intolerant.” The dhobi reiterated.

“ Wow ‘ I said forgetting my wrinkles for the moment “ Hi Fi English ! Wow “

“ What do you mean Saab by Wow and Hi Fi. Are you making some discriminatory statement ?” He said turning red

”Uh …err I am sorry If I sounded like that, but did you just say intolerant and discriminatory. I am happily surprised to see your language getting more …err stronger”

“ Sir I think you really are now annoying me and if you continue to do so I will have to return the electric razor you gave me 3 years back as a Diwali gift’

‘ Oh no no , sorry if I offended you, but why return the razor, you must have used it right, it must be not even working now, I mean sorry …what I meant was you don’t need to get too offended  just by some casual remarks”

The dhobi looked satisfied and calm. I was worried about looking for another Dhobi in the 10Sqkm area.

“ And you can continue to give me wrinkled shirts ok I don’t mind and no need to return my gifts, even the 1000bucks I gave you along with the razor”

The dhobi looked a bit nervous.

“Ok sir got to go . Have deliveries in many other houses. Will get late and people are getting intolerant these days “


I shut the door and returned to the living room muttering under my breath about the changing times. 
The wife was around and noted my disconcert.

“Dear what’s up. What’s bothering you?”

“ I just don’t understand the attitude of these laundry professionals. I need to feel sorry to point out 
mistakes in their job which they should be doing efficiently anyway”

“Dear don’t you think you have become a tad bit intolerant ?”

“What …!” That word again. What was it like? A word plague ?

I walked away in a huff and then spied into my son’s room.  The laptop was open.

“ You up to games again ?” I huffed and then puffed

“ Dad, yes. Finished my homework and was chilling”

“ But you have exams tomorrow and how dare you play games ?”

“ Dad but I am ready and the psychologist Nancy says it is good to play a game or watch a movie before the exams to relax the nerves”

“ Just beat it . And shut that game down and open your text books” I screamed

“ Uh ! You seem to have become really intolerant dad “

I did not stand around. I was perhaps dreaming . The word was chasing me around. Was it my imagination.

“ Dad” I jerked back to reality

“ Here take this” my son said handing out his old PS2 “ I don’t want it anymore . I am returning it “

“ What ??? . Anyway you don’t use it after you got the PS4 . So what’s this returning business?”

“ I don’t know dad, I am sad and want to return something which is not useful to me anymore . So thought of returning that to you”

The logic did not make any sense but then nothing seemed to on this day.

Back jumping into my favorite bean bag I switched on the TV. My favorite debate called the  “Newsecond “ was to start.

I was startled again when a jingle on TV chimed

“This programme is brought to you by Intolerant soap, it just does not tolerate dirt. You will love it”

This was really a bad dream for sure. The anchor had come on with his opening line now.

“ Welcome to Newsecond and we bring you this debate on whether we really have become an Intolerant society”

I just buried my head in the newspaper. I was tired and emotionally drained.

Switched off the TV and logged on to the internet on my IPad.

Search for Intolerant, I typed on google

The result thrown up


“Originated 1765, Missing since October
2015”