The basic integral embryotic problem with Bollywood is that it always desires to maintain itself as the idealistic Miss Goody-Two Shoes. The films have to be glossy, shiny, and wonderful. The music has to be comfortable. Every hurdle has to be overcome, every obstacle shattered (either through superhuman will power or divine intervention), and everybody has to be divided into happy, laughing (or married) couples at the end of the films. Films have even gone to the extent of showing dogs and cats snuggling together – a testimony of how one couple’s love can encompass the whole universe. It happens only in Bollywood. If me falling in love would make India BFF with Pakistan, annihilate terrorism, and make China our gilli-danda playmates, I would have shrines and ‘jai mata di’ bumper stickers of Eros and Aphrodite in dozens. But no, that is not how happiness and love works. While a man slides off the ghungat from his newly-wed wife’s head in one room, someone could be beating someone up in another. The realities of life are just too real. Every problem does not always come with a solution that makes the whole world happy. Therefore, films that deal with problems WITHOUT solutions are hilariously termed ‘parallel cinema’. It is ‘intellectual’ to deal with the honest realities of life; for every instance of mindlessness, there is the mainstream razzmatazz.
I am not arguing with the need for escapism. It is extremely essential for entertainment to, well, entertain. But the saturation of mindlessness needs to be broken. Even films that attempt daring storylines fall into the rut by the time the credits close in. Case in point: Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani and Fukrey.
YJHD talks about a group of four college friends who make an excursion at the crossroads of their lives, only to meet years again to re-think their priorities. A coming-of-age film about life, ambition, family, and friendship. For once, it was refreshing to see the lead man give his ambition more importance and try to do something for himself. Even the dissonance his friendships suffer is very natural. It could have simply been a heart breaking story of a man who chooses his career above everything else, tries to find happiness in it, and suffers the pangs of loneliness. Also, why a hormonal Indian boy cannot find himself a girlfriend in Europe and America is a shocking surprise. Why he has to become a sort of nomadic recluse is a further point of confusion. Why he is averse to ‘love’ and only likes having sex with random women in random streets is equally surprising. AND, if he is averse to ‘love’, why is it that he falls in ‘love’ very conveniently with our heroine and NOBODY ELSE in so many years of travelling the world? So, love HAS to be at home? A sort of overriding prejudice that desi is the best option and whoever marries a firang has treaded the path of Satan? Confusing.
Hormonal boy (rich, successful, travels the world, has a hotshot job), not in love with an Indian girl = BAD. Not Bollywood-hero material.
Hormonal boy (becomes a one-woman man) gives everything up to fall in ‘love’ with Indian girl = GOOD. 100 crore club material.
Why can a rich, successful man who travels the world with a film maker’s job and enjoys the companionship of different partners NOT be a good thing? Why does the ‘right’ description of a hero, even today, has to be that of a married-man-with-a-job-and-dreams-for-two?
And, why does the geeky heroine always bloom into the sizzling girl of his dreams? Is it absolutely not possible for people to fall in love with a woman who wears glasses? Does she have to lose weight, get hair extensions, and wear navel-bearing outfits to find the right man? Do beautiful people ALWAYS HAVE TO couple themselves with beautiful people? And the supporting cast has to settle with the average looking dunces who will not distract us from staring at the beautiful people. And if, by mistake (or casting couch; or a big brother for a producer) the supporting actor is more handsome than the lead, character ‘flaws’ are heightened. He is made a failure with stubble and an alcoholic drawl (he even pulls that off with aplomb. Kudos, Aditya Roy Kapur)
YJHD is a Jab We Met meets Cocktail via Purab aur Paschim. And while it is a fine one-time watch, we must realize that ‘one-time watch’ is not a compliment. Most of the songs are unnecessary, and hardly any stay with you. With the same gimmicks, old jokes, and Manish Malhotra clothes, this film will be soon forgotten.
Aditya Roy Kapur is star material; he just needs to choose the right films to land up in the A-team. Kalki and Kunal are much too talented to be in such films. Deepika should go back to modeling. It is not that she cannot act. I am just tired of waiting for her to play anything but Deepika Padukone.
Ranbir did not need this film in his CV. Especially after a Barfi. You disappoint us.
Fukrey had the promise to become a sadistic cat-and-mouse chase of a film. A sort of dark comedy based in the bylanes of Delhi about four young boys trying to raise enough money to fund their bribes for college admissions and daddy’s surgeries. Throw in a femme fatale of a mafia don, her African henchmen, and a crassy Haryanvi policeman, and you have struck gold. Peppy music, brilliant actors, crisp dialogues, and some delicious moments could have made this memorable film.
But, it has a happy ending. Everything falls into place. Not one problem exists. Even heartbreak is miraculously bandaged. Every failure becomes jackpot-ringing success. The Fukrey do not remain fukrey anymore. What Fukrey hopelessly lacks is anger and frustration. Four jobless loafers have to raise 25 lakh to save themselves from the claws of a reckless Godmother – and not for once is there any urgency. You are never at the edge of your seat. Not once, are you forced to worry about whether they will be able to raise the money or not. ‘Or not’ does not exist. It is a Bollywood mainstream film. The crazy iron-pumping Godmother will not chop their balls or shoot through their arse. We are allowed to comfortably assume that they will raise the money eventually.
The ‘eventually’ is always a happy ending.
Pulkit Samrat and Varun Sharma should take a bow. They might just be the future hotshots of the industry if they choose their films responsibly. Manjot Singh is finding it tough to play anything but a sardarji. Ali Fazal is much more talented than what we see in the film. Take it from someone who has seen all his plays. Richa Chadda is an absolute delight. Pankaj Tripathi is a star in his own right.
Eventually, these are two films that had the promise of becoming something much bigger and better than what they turned out to be.
BEING HUMMUSEXUAL 