So, my friend and I exit the theater after watching this film when a car passes bye, splashing dirt on our clothes and faces. My friend says to me in a tone dipped in irony, “this is exactly how I felt while watching this movie, like someone was throwing dirt in my face”. That’s when I drop to the ground, roll around in the mud, get up and say to my friend in a tone as flat and serious as John Abraham at any given moment, “this is how I felt while I was watching the movie”.
Okay, maybe my reaction may have been a figment of my imagination. But that shouldn’t take away from the fact this movie is bad enough to trigger schizophrenic attacks in the sanest of people. I may have been the most tolerant person towards Pakistan that I knew of, but if this is the kind of films that India produces, then Pakistan ain’t sound so bad.
Yaar, the concept of an Indo-Pak love story is so ripe with infinite possibilities that even mathematician couldn’t keep track of them using permutations and combinations. Plus, the idea of setting the whole movie throughout the duration of one night made the thought even more delicious. But director Eeshvar Nivas bungles the film so blatantly that a gully cricket match between India and Pakistan would make for better entertainment. Apart from Shool all those years ago in 1999, he has not managed to make a solitary respectable film in the past 15 years. So, why should it change now?
Here, he expertly sidesteps any funny situation that could’ve arisen from the plot and setting itself, and puts the actors in scenarios that are tailor-made to make the audiences pull their hair out. The writing is extremely consistent on the pathetic side, the background music is perfectly suited for a television cartoon show, the film is as dull as watching an ant crawl up a wet wall, and it is as racist as my uncle who fought in the war against Pakistan. At one point during the film, I rolled up the film tickets into a cigarette, clenched one end tightly between my teeth and started pulling on the other end till either the tickets tore or my teeth broke. Lucky for me, the paper quality today is deteriorating.
Serves me right for actually expecting a Hindi movie to be good. A funny trailer, a charming actor in Ali Zafar, Yami Gautum looking yummy, Kirron Kher looking in her element, and u actually started to believe that we could have a fun, light-hearted film about the amnesty between the two warring nations. But, they used up the exactly 3 good jokes in the entire film in the trailer itself. Ali Zafar plays the exact same character he has played in every film of his, barring the extremely underrated London Paris New York. While the sweet-guy-with-the-charming-smile act worked very well in Tere Bin Laden and Mere Brother Ki Dulhan , especially the latter, it falters stupendously in this film. Yami looks yummy (sorry, I just have one joke on her), but the less said about her acting, the better.
Kirron Kher, too, plays the same character of the Punjabi mother with the thick accent that she played well in Dostana and to perfection in Ajab Gazab Love (her performance was the only good thing in the latter film), but she is saddled with the worst lines of her career in this film. It’s a miracle that she still manages to make you laugh on occasion, purely through her expressions. Anupam Kher, her real-life husband, is there in this film too. In completely unrelated news, I may never be able to look at him the same way again. The rest of the actors are probably retards picked up from a mental asylum, having been promised a stroll on the London Bridge in return for acting in this film.
I usually end all reviews with a summation or a final verdict or something else that you don’t give a damn about. But since this film is the worst thing that’s happened to me this year (joint 1st position with Gunday), even though I got slammed into by a car a month ago, I couldn’t care for spending another second writing about this film (especially since in my head, I’m still covered in mud). So, just stay away it. Or whatever.
©Piyush Chopra for PosterGully.com