Bhagyashree and Salman Khan in Maine Pyar Kiya (1989)

Salman Khan (In) – Bhagyashree (Out)

Salman Khan and Bhagyashree

Both were introduced in super successful Maine Pyar Kiya (1989) by Sooraj Barjatya . This joint-family romance broke innumerable records and both Salman Khan and Bhagyashree became overnight sensation. While Salman Khan became one of the most successful actors of Bollywood, Bhagyashree faded soon afterwards.

Kajol and Kamal Sadanah in Bekhudi (1992)

Kajol (In)  – Kamal Sadanah (Out)

Kajol and Kamal Sadanah

Manisha Koirala and Vivek Mushran in Saudagar (1991)

Manisha (In) – Vivek (Out)

Manisha Koirala and Vivek Mushran

Madhoo and Ajay Devgan in Phool Aur Kante (1992)

Ajay Devgan (In) – Madhoo (Out)

Madhoo and Ajay Devgan

Karishma Kapoor and Harish Kumar in Prem Qaidi (1991)

Karishma Kapoor (In) – Harish kumar (Out)

Karishma Kapoor and Harish Kumar

Ek Second...Jo Zindagi Badal De... (2010)

Cleverly nestled between an I Hate Luv Storys and Rajneeti trailer was a 30 second promo on local cable – ‘Fasale Bahara Hoon Mai’ was the name of the track, which saw former Femina Miss India Nikita Anand seducing a frigid [gasp!] Moammar Rana in Bollywood’s answer to Punjabi/Pashto pulp. The English lyrics of the track go something like this: “Gonna rule me up?/ Wanna take a ride?/ C’mon let’s do it! Take away!/ Ooh waah-ee-yeah! [x4]” I mean, she ripped his goddamn Rupa banyan off whilst he stoically stared into the distance à la war veteran. ‘Sangdil Sharara’ indeed. Ek Second…Jo Zindagi Badal De was the name of the movie, and a trip to the local DVD shop revealed the film had released. Feeling either a) like Indiana Jones, the movie connoisseur equivalent of, b) Sadomasochistic, c) in the mood for a quick laugh, d) all of the above, I decided to brave a screening of the rather unknown [B-movie?] flick.

The Plot, or Gwyneth Paltrow’s Sliding Doors meets – gaah, Brain has Dissolved: Raashi [Manisha Koirala, a shadow of her Dil Se, Bombay & Khamoshi self], fiancé of hot-shot novelist Shantanu Roy [Moammar Rana], is a perpetual procrastinator, but the producers would have us believe she is destiny’s child – ‘ek second’ late for Roy’s book launch, ‘ek second’ [well, actually she was an hour late, but oh well] late for important presentation at office – which gets her fired. Within the first ten minutes, we’re brainwashed into believing ‘ek second’ can really screw us over. On her way back, at a metro station, she is unable to board the train [sound familiar?], and this is where we’re taken on a journey of two parallel universes – the Raashi that managed to board the train, and catch Roy two-timing her with psychotic Tamanna [Nikita Anand], and her track thereafter with Yuvraaj [Jackie Shroff] and Rozza – versus the Raashi that didn’t. In one version, she’s extremely successful, in the other, she’s shown struggling with her life. And here’s the kicker: the moral of the story is supposed to be that whatever is written in one’s destiny happens in one way or the other. And don’t worry, if you feel confused, you have an annoying narrator practically spoon-feeding you the plot throughout.

Background check on director Partho Ghosh revealed masterpieces of Indian cinema such as Meri Life Mai Uski Wife, Mr. Hot Mr. Kool, Chetna – The Excitement [?!]‘, and – wait, Agnisakshi Ghulam-e-Mustafa? But – those were half-decent movies! The former, a remake of Sleeping With The Enemy, also featuring Manisha and Jackie Shroff, actually hit box office gold! Then – what went wrong here?

Actually, that’s a no-brainer. The screenplay = shoddy, with most of the dialogue lifted from Urdu SMS Shayeri/those stalker messages you get on Facebook. And practically no attention to detail.

First off: Moammar Rana, in the very first scene, is showcased launching his book ‘Destiny – a Journey’ at ‘Random’ Publish House – the invitation reads RPH Present’s ‘Destiny.’ Umm, you’re a publishing house. It’s called spell-check?! Then there’s the atrocious dialogue right at the onset, with Rana’s token ‘Pakistani’ friend Sam [a horrid, horrid Suniiel Singh] going: “Guzra hua waqt, nikli hui saansen kabhi wapis nahi aateen. Tujhe nahi lagta Raashi kuch zyaada hi late karrahi hai?” Yes, yes, we know the film’s about destiny and time and whatnot. Then there was Jackie Shroff’s introduction – Shroff’s role in the film is to act as Manisha’s knight in shining armor – “Qismat/Wismat kuch nahi madam. Fighter apni qismat banata hai. Fighter hamesha jeethta hai!” Manisha: “Hahaha, thank you, bye.” Oh, God. Sparks obviously fly, as Manisha later recounts to Moammar: “Really, a second can change life, Shaanu. Aaj mai marte marte bachi hoon. Agar ek second mai woh ajnabi farishta mujhe aa ke naa bachata..”

Then there was the first song, the aneurysm inducing ‘Hota Hai Har Faisala Ek Second Mai,’ featuring Suniiel [dubbed Fat Mithun from now on] gyrating with a bevy of Malaysian beauties. It’s an assault to the senses, a new low for singer Adnan Sami, and a great Truth or Dare challenge. I mean, publisher Fat Mithun moonlighting as cabaret lothario/Jiminy Cricket ['let your conscience be your guide' and all that]?! Epic fail! Nikita Anand, clearly with great potential [details later] is wasted in an insipid introduction as Glenn Close from Fatal Attraction wannabe. “Waisay tumhare saath ye nahi fuljari kaun hai? [Pointing to Manisha] Koi nayi fan ya koi nahi murghi?” Moammar: “Nahi ham jald shaadi karne wale hain.” “Oo lucky girl! Blah blah greatest novelist ne kissi ko apna life-partner banaya, blah blah waisay to sab bed-partners theen!” *Both giggle like schoolgirls.* And her Kajol-from-Gupt moment? “Ye Shaanu tumhara itni asaani se nahi hoga, Jaanu!” I’d shudder if I wasn’t, you know, laughing out so loud.

Poor, poor Moammar Rana. He pitches in earnest expressions throughout the film, but is once again let down by bizarre dialogue. Sample this, frustrated by the average response to his novel, he retorts: “duniya mai kayi log aye jinhon ne apni qismat ko challenge kiya. Hitler, Napoleon Bonaparte aur Sikandar jese log!”

Then comes the entire sequence where Manisha catches him doing the nasty with Nikita. Forget gut-wrenching, it was practically farcical. Moammar screams thrice, introduces other woman to fiancé, and Nikita goes: “oh forget it! C’mon Shaanu!”, later calling him a ‘delicious dish jo ham donon [Nikita and Manisha] mil ke half half khayen gay.’ It’d all be very poignant, if this were a Rob Schneider comedy – Osman Khalid Butt

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 2010, Genre – Thriller, Country – India, Language – Hindi, Producer – Rachna Sunil Singh, Director – Partho Ghosh, Music Director – Arvinder Singh, Sawan Kumar, Cast - Jackie Shroff, Manisha Koirala, Nikita Anand, Muammar Rana, Roza Catalano, Hanbir Malik, Suneil Singh

Raavan (2010)

Bollywood’s giving us quite the fill of Sanskrit literature: first, it was modern-day Mahabharata with Rajneeti, and this Friday saw the Hindu version of Darth Vader/Joker from Dark Knight/Hannibal Lector/you get the drift, Raavan [from Ramayana] being immortalized in a celluloid saga. The result? Raavan emerges as a flawed piece of storytelling; but then, there’s always beauty to be found in imperfection.

The Plot, or Ramayana meets RGV’s Jungle meets Khalnayak: If you watch this film expecting a play-by-play of the original Sanskrit epic, or even the Ramanand Sagar television saga, you’re in for a rude awakening. Raavan turns [wait for it] Robin Hood in this modern-day interpretation, which sees the antihero Beera [Abhishek Bachchan] kidnap Ragini [Aishwarya Rai], classical dancer and wife of police-officer Dev Pratap Sharma [South sensation Vikram], seeking revenge for the dishonoring of his half-sister Surpanakha. Echoing the great Khalnayak, defiant Ragini develops Stockholm Syndrome after several cat-and-mouse chase sequences, much traipsing through cinematographer Santosh Sivan [remember Asoka?] approved lush jungle landscapes, and a tribal war-dance to boot. The lines between good and evil blur as Ragini sees the more humane side of Beera and his henchmen [his two brothers, countless admirers, and the token transvestite], and ‘virtuous’ Dev, in the concluding reels [after the obligatory ten-minute action sequence] stands exposed as heartless, calculating douchebag.

Wait. What? Hah – told you this wasn’t your ordinary virtue-versus-vice tale.

That being said, though Mani Ratnam tries his best to weave in elements of a modern rustic India, with its gangfare, violence and criminal-breeding, in this classic tale, he trades in myth for the mundane, stripping Ram of his pious deity status, demoting Raavan from Rakshasa to rabid criminal desperately in need of lozenges [Abhishek's raspy voice quickly became a deterrent], and giving a theatrical, schmaltzy flavor to almost every sequence in the film.

What Clicks: The nonlinear filmmaking style is used to great effect, with Beera’s motive revealed only in the second half. I could write a thesis about the cinematography; each frame was a pièce de résistance, lifting the rather thin storyline to operatic, epic heights. Filmfare should just hand out the award to Santosh Sivan right now. The Bachchans share incredible chemistry [their very first sequence by the waterfalls was riveting - a defiant war-of-words between the psychopath and the suicidal]. Abhishek Bachchan does his best Jack Nicholson-from-The Shining impression, marred only by some incoherent soliloquies. The pace of the film never falters, and the musical interludes are used to great effect. Particularly poignant is the relationship between Dev and Ragini shown through Kathak dance in ‘Khilli Re’ [in a flashback sequence. Oh, and moustache-twiddling is new Bollywood bedroom kink.] Priyamani, playing Beera’s sister, pitches in an exceptional performance; her entire storyline [featuring a craven fiancé, and the worst wedding crashers in the world], involving a startling revelation that kick-starts Beera’s war against Dev, is perhaps the strongest point of the film, and the most emotionally resonating. Aishwarya Rai is at her expressive best when asked by her husband to perform a modern-day version of agni pariksha [read: Burn, Sita, Burn!], a polygraph test, to prove her fidelity. Ravi Kishan as Beera’s equally-psychotic-but-with-heart-of-gold brother, and Nikhil Dwivedi as good cop/bad cop/who can tell, are strong supporting characters.

What Doesn’t: The capture-sequence right at the onset defies logic: If only Ragini’s boatman had changed course instead of blindly stating the obvious, Beera’s boat would never have crashed into theirs. Ragini would never have been kidnapped. There wouldn’t have been a movie. Oh. Rai wails like a Banshee-reject; no wonder Beera has a permanent twitch. Govinda’s character was introduced as Ziyi Zhang from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Seriously, what was with the gravity-defying stunts? Some of the dialogues are cringe-worthy: early on in the film, Rai waxes poetic on Beera, stating: ‘Ye aadmi Raavan hai ya Robin Hood?’ in Kangna Ranaut/Meera-or-similar dialect. Speaking of which, guess the filmmakers couldn’t figure that out either. I mean, I just spent two hours rooting for the villain and shouting ‘Go, Dev, Go!’ in manner of enraged political activist/Pakistani lawyer. Parts of the penultimate sequence seemed a direct copy-paste of Khalnayak [Madhuri - whoops, I meant Aishwarya - stands infront of Abhishek in furious attempt to ward off, say, ten thousand police-officers? Alright, I'm exaggerating just a little.] Oh, and one finds it implausible [Bollywood's favorite catchword] that Beera would have delivered a touching ode to the virtues of Ragini to a belligerent Dev, whilst playing Cliffhanger on a burning bridge. Speaking of: Dev, who? Vikram was reduced to grunting caveman; a one-dimensional character that serves only to ridicule the Indian police-force. And how the hell did Aishwariya Rai manage to find her way back to Beera in the last half; wasn’t she blindfolded when brought to his nest? The climax seemed rushed. That’s because I wanted to see douchebag Dev [our modern-day Ram] get his comeuppance by hell-hath-no-fury-like-Sita-scorned Ragini. Wait, is that blasphemous?

An angry viewer raged post-screening that Raavan is the cinematic equivalent of a dumb blonde: body beautiful, but lacking soul. Though there is no doubt that Mani Ratnam is let down by his own screenplay, I found the film engaging, spirited and fast-paced, backed by wonderful if sporadic performances by both leads, and featuring some exceptional sequences. It might not add up to the likes of predecessors Guru or Yuva, might not be the emotional epics Roja or Bombay were, but it offers viewers an unsettling, if larger-than-life, psychological drama, which is well worth the price of ticket admission. Hell, watch it for the cinematography, if nothing else. Can you say jaw-dropper? – Osman Khalid Butt

Cast and Production Credits

Year – 2010, Genre – Drama/Action, Country – India, Language – Hindi, Producer – Mani Ratnam, Director – Mani Ratnam, Music Director – A. R. Rahman, Cast - Abhishek Bachchan, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, Chiyaan Vikram, Govinda, Manisha Koirala, Nikhil Dwivedi, Ravi Kishan, Priyamani