Dishoom Review

Dishoom

Director- Dumbhead.

Actors- Dumbbells.

Rating-Dumbstruck.

Spoiler alert. That the movie is a spoiler.

Grave situation. The Indian captain Viraj (wow how creative) is kidnapped. Hence a mountain of Whey Protein (John Abraham) is hired from India. He is given a jar of Creatine (Varun Dhawan) to help him through the case.

The boys start their work. They meet the funny man Vijayraj.

Why? Good laughs bro.  Good laughs. What is a good Hindi film that cannot derail, stop for a while, sip a cola, enjoy some popcorn and have some good laughs? Does he make you laugh? NO!

Then Whey Mountain and Creatine Jar meet the Human Italian Marble, white and expressionless- Nargis Fakri. Why? Why? Glamour bro. What is a good Hindi film that cannot titillate its audiences with some skin show, bro! We are a nation that is so frigging deprived that we would get excited to see a Donald Duck in a bikini. This is toh Nargis Fakri bro!! And mind you, her bikini shot is justified haan, before you screw my brains with your feminist objectification of women blah blah. She is rich. Rich people have pools. They have to swim. They have to wear swimsuit. Wow, that makes sense, but does she give any leads? NO!

Then the boys get down to serious business and meet Akshay Kumar in his den, which houses many naked men who look like different versions of our very own Whey Mountan and Creatine Jar. Err…why? Why? Why? Gay jokes bro. What is a good Hindi film that cannot crack lame, unfunny, unoriginal gay jokes, stolen from the internet? Also how else do you justify Whey and Creatine’s bare bodies? 18 pack abs banaye hain bhai. Does Akshay give any information? Yes. That he made the Guinness book of world record in taking the poutiest, weirdest selfie with the missing Captain, Viraj. Wow, do they make any progress?

Hell yes. They meet another Italian Marble Lookalike, as pouty and anglicized (Jacqueline Fernandez). She has a heartbreaking back story though. Her father married again after her mom’s demise. Hence she ran away from her home. Awww that’s sad. Sad, that the father didn’t slap her and knock some sense into this dope of a pick pocket’s head. She has an IQ of Einstein though. She had seen the kidnapper, Altaf. She describes that he looked like John Abrahim; same eyes, same face and sundry. The kidnapper is Rahul Dev.

This is Rahul dev.

This is John Abraham.

 

Pause.

Err.

Never Mind.

Altaf is a Pashtun. Pashtun stays in Abbudin. Italian Marble Part 2 tells Whey and Creatine that she will take them to Abbudin. Why? Why? Why? They are police officers. They can go on their own. Item number bro. Who will do an item number in Abbudin with locals? What is a good Hindi film that doesn’t objectify women in a sensational, gyrating item number? Come on, sing with me, Sau taraf ke…rog le lu…yeah yeah!?!?

Whey and Creatine track Altaf down but the big boss kills him before he reveals information about the missing captain. So the big boss kills Whey and Creatine as well? NO! Why? Why? WHYYYY? Logic bro. What is a good Hindi film that makes any logical sense?

But I admit, the film has some real gems man. The collar of a dog’s leash is attached with a camera that has the longest lasting battery and has such clarity that Bhansali saab is planning to use it in his next film. Then there is this Indian Captain who locates and dislocates his shoulder to sometimes hit boundaries on the field and then sometimes wriggle out of a bomb jacket off the field. Wow, how talented!! Also the bomb jacket defies any rules of buoyancy.

Akshay Khanna makes a comeback as a baddie and nails it yet again. He is the only saving grace of the film. Umm…maybe not. Nothing could really save this dumb-dishoom-dah! The film also marks the debut of Parineeti Chopra’s brand new waist line. The first shot of ‘Jaaneman Ah’ is of her midriff that celebrates her pizza less days at the gym.

If you can suspend belief, surgically detach your brains, laugh at illogical buffoonery that rolls out in the name of humor, then my dear friend, you DON’T need to watch this film. You need help.

In sympathy.
With hugs and prayers.

Lokesh.

 

Sultan Review

Sultan

Director- Ali-Maine-Gunday-Nahi-Banai-Abbas-Zafar

Starring- Salman Khan as Salman Khan and Anushka Sharma as Band Baaja Baarat’s Shruti Kakkar revisited, this time in Haryana.

Rating- One time watch.

Salman Khan does it yet again what he does best- appear on the silver screen on Eid. The directors change, so do stories, but our superstar remains the same man child, slightly irreverent, slightly misogynist, slightly cheeky, then suddenly emotional, suddenly philosophical and mostly without a shirt. But I admit Salman Khan has worked hard. He has finally found a valid reason to abandon that shirt.

The first half of Sultan is a beautiful love story that involves chasing, stalking, making a pass and even eve teasing. And dare you call it sleazy or equate it with rape culture. It’s SK after all; Salman Khan, not Shakti Kapoor, so everything is fair, in love, war and bhailand.

Sample this-

Uncle Stalker– “Manne laage hain ki Angrezi mein ladki jaldi pate hain…I love you bolo phir seedha kiss hoye hain.”

Shruti Kakkar Part 789– Shut up you cheapad. I became a wrestler to make my papa proud, ladkiyan sab kar sakti hain. Because I have a pseudo feminist type of role, which anyway is not important in a Salman Khan Film but I will still say my lines…

Uncle Stalker– …

Shruti Kakkar Part 789– What?

Uncle Stalker– I am trying to have –I-am-impressed- expressions on my face…

Shruti Kakkar Part 789– Are you serious? That will take forever. Come let’s sing a song and I will be patoed.

Insert- Baby ko bass pasand hain.   

And don’t be misled by the word baby. Most of the film dialogues consist of ‘chora’ ‘chori’ ‘tanne’ ‘manne’ ‘laage’ and all those words that would establish, so what if only superficially, the Haryanvi setting of the film.

Speaking of weird accents, Sultan manages to do the almost unbelievable- give Aaj Tak their most anglicized Reporter ever. Because hey ‘welcome to the mosssttt spegggtacullarrr sporrrrtssss evahhh’ is like so cool and fashionable.

What’s incredible is that when our female- feminist-for-five-seconds calls out Uncle Stalker’s misogyny; he throws major tantrums and behaves like a victim. He is the one  harassing her and yet cuts a sorry victimized figure. Well that makes sense, after all bhai ke zameer ko thais pahuchi hain. He in fact sulks to the point that she has to eventually apologize to him. Vivek Oberoi and Arijit Singh, here’s a tissue, please wipe that empathetic tear off.

Cut to Character (in)consistency.

Unmarried Aarfa– No love shuv. It’s distracting. My only goal is an Olympics Gold.

Two scenes later.

Married and pregnant Aarfa– Go hubby. You win the Olympics. When you come back, I will give you an Olympics level guilt for being ambitious, okay, just like how Deepika made Ranbir feel in Yeh Jawaani Hain Kitni Superficial!?

Speaking of inconsistencies, Uncle Stalker goes from purposeless to purposeful, simple to smug, India to Istanbul and ambitious to a humble Bajaj scooter, faster than his ‘driver’ over people on Mumbai’s footpath.

Sample this. One moment Sultan gives a full mere papa kehte hain speech on how Kisaan, Pehalwaan are bonded by Bharat Ki Mitti and two scenes and an Olympics gold later, he refuses to play a match because he doesn’t fight on the same Mitti anymore.

But I have to admit Sultan is a refreshing change to all Bollywood films made on sports.. It shows the story of a slacker/loser to an underdog to finally a winner, fighting some personal battles and equating the victory with his personal win as well. Beautiful.  Sultan is indeed rare. This, only, if you forget Lagaan, Chak De India, Mary Kom, Bhag Milkha Bhag, Kai Poche, Patiala House, Iqbal, Dil Bole Hadippa, Sala Khadoos, Azhar, Ferrari Ki Sawari, Hawa Hawai, Paan Singh Tomar…phew!

What I particularly liked about Sultan is its inspiring sermons. “Wrestling is not a sport, it’s about fighting what lies within…life is a struggle…blah blah…you won’t be defeated…blah some more…till you feel defeated…zzzzz….snores*” lectures that are worthy of early morning inspiring forwards that will instantly make you leave your family Whats-app groups. In fact there is a dialogue about success and failure shamelessly lifted from an Emily Dickinson’s poem, Success is counted sweetest.

Anushka Sharma, is as always, extremely earnest who puts some life into a half heartedly written character of Aarfa. She is a natural, comfortable with lines, manages to get the accent right and saves the character that’s reminiscent of Shruti Kakkar in Band Baaja Baraat.

The supporting cast; Kumud Mishra (As Aarfa’s father) and Anant Sharma (as Sultan’s best friend Govind) are brilliant as well. And of course my favorite- Amit Sadh. He is not only earnest but extremely endearing as the franchise owner of an MMA premier league. There are a couple of scenes where Salman shines too. Besides his commendable body language in the ring, watch him in a scene where he breaks down. A vulnerable, human Salman is something we want to watch more often.

Watch Sultan. Because no review can ever dissuade you from doing so. After all it’s about Sal-mania.

(This is my weekly review in Masala!)