I have shelves
of DVDs waiting to be seen; with the paucity of time, juggling work and home,
finding time to watch a movie or to read a book is a luxury. So, why, I
ask myself, am I re-watching movies that were only ‘okay’ the first time
around? I either have a deep vein of masochism running through, or (since I have
to blame it on someone or something other than me) dustedoff’s latest post brought this song back to
mind, and I actually looked the movie up online again!
Well, what can I
say? Unlike good wine, the movie hasn’t improved with the keeping, but I got a
whole lot of ironing done, and a post. Hmm, I suppose I came out ahead at that…
Onwards to the movie then (you will have to put up with a lot of idle
comments)...
We are introduced to Ramesh (Joy Mukherjee), a recent
‘BA-pass’, who spends his time partying, much to his father’s (Nasir Hussain)
irritation.
(Idle comment no:1 - Wasn’t Joy Mukherjee a bit long
in the tooth by then to play a graduate student? Which brings us to: Idle comment no:2 - Why was
Nasir Hussain always playing the irritable father?)
His mother (Achala Sachdev) and long-time servitor
Narayan (Asit Sen) however, dote on him, and cover up for him as much as they
can, thereby serving to irritate the father some more.
Ramesh’s
professor, Brijmohan Agnihotri (IS Johar) is a confirmed bachelor, and a
misogynist who claims that marriage is the ruin of every man. Influenced by
him, Ramesh too vows to remain unmarried, even going so far as to sing an
anti-marriage song at his friend’s wedding reception. (Idle
comment no:3 - And he thought that was a good idea? Why?)
The song isn’t
anything out of the ordinary (this is not one of
Laxmikant-Pyarelal's best scores), though pleasant enough to hear,
but is definitely worth watching for a) A very young and mouche-less MacMohan
and b) a very familiar face to some of you who have been reading Memsaab’s
and dustedoff’s
blogs.
We are also introduced to Madan Chicagowala (Madan Puri),
a photographer, and Shefali (debutante Urvashi Dutta) - the latter seems to
want to kill anyone who even looks at Ramesh. Ha! Keep an eye on these two, will you, for
they play a very important part in future proceedings.
Ramesh’s life is
soon to change. His father, fed up of his dilettante ways, decides to send him
off to Madhupur – to work. He gets there alright, but doesn’t seem to be
working much; he is sauntering around, enjoying the view, when he sees a
beautiful village belle frolicking in the distance.
After a short
altercation, the girl Poonam (Saira Banu), and he make up pretty fast, and
Ramesh falls in love faster than you can say ‘Professor Brijmohan Agnihotri’.
Turns out, Poonam is the innocent, naive but very capable daughter
of Kedarnath Badri Narayan (AK Hangal). She can cook (every girl should
know how to cook when she gets to her sasural), she can dance (well, she can’t, but that is another story altogether),
she is pretty (that she is!) – not in
that particular order, I suppose, for Ramesh, but hey, who is interested in
cooking when the girl looks like Saira?
(Idle comment no:4 - Why on earth do film-makers think
that ‘innocent’ and ‘naive’ are synonymous with ‘stupidity’? They just make the
heroine seem like they have 'paanch paise kam' as we used to say in college...
see accompanying photos – I rest my case.)
Anyhow. Ramesh and Poonam are in ‘luvvv’ and Ramesh
leaves for the city promising to come back for her as soon as he can manao-fy
his mom. In the meanwhile, Kedarnath has decided he is going off on a vanvas
and never coming back (ever!); he
leaves his precious daughter in the care of his ex-student – guess who?
Professor Brijmohan Agnihotri. Yes, indeed, he of the ‘women are all out to
cause a man’s downfall’ fame. Well, he takes one look at Poonam and
falls hook, line and sinker for her. Only, she persists in referring to him as
'Chachaji’.
There being no fool quite like an old fool, the professor
sets out to become ‘young’ – which involves drinking lots of fruit juices,
gulping down tonics, dyeing his hair, and quoting poetry.
Alas, nothing works. And Ramesh is watching all this in
bemusement. His initial reaction of stunned laughter soon gives way to helpful advice, and he helps his mentor undertake a makeover.
Soon, the professor is togged out in a natty suit and
hat, has shaved off his mouche, and is spouting some more poetry at the drop of
the proverbial hat.
(Idle
comment no:5 - Since they show the Professor in coat and vest and hat at the
beginning, I wonder why they put him into a dhoti-kurta only to change him back
again!) It’s making no
inroads into Poonam’s heart however, since she persists in seeing him as an uncle
of sorts.
Since she has
also run into Ramesh again (and run his car aground), she is definitely not
interested in her older suitor; in fact, she doesn’t even realise he is a
suitor. The professor, who has noticed her growing attraction to Ramesh, now
sets off to undermine him; he is helped by Ramesh himself, who, not knowing
that his professor is not only courting the same damsel, but also pretending to
be her uncle, confides all in his mentor.
Chafed by 'chachaji's'
growing possessiveness, Poonam takes matters into her own hands, and lands up
uninvited at Ramesh’s house. She soon endears herself to his mother and
Narayan, and even manages to melt the ice around the disapproving father.
(Idle
comment no:6 - When seeking approval from boyfriend’s parents, please sing a
bhajan. It would help if you were a dashed good singer, or best option? Just
lip-sync to Lata Mangeshkar.)
Soon, talk of
marriage is in the air.
By the way, you
haven’t forgotten Madan and Shefali, have you? (Idle
comment no:7 - Well, the director did, until someone remembered to ask why
Madan Puri and an unknown face were present on the sets every day. A hurried
consultation with the scriptwriters ensued.)
Ab aayega
kahaani mein twist! “Let’s turn this into a murder / thriller / precursor of
Ekta Kapoor’s soaps,” said the scriptwriter. “Excellent!” said the director
rubbing his hands together in glee.
Shefali is
head-over-heels in love with Ramesh, and seeing him with Poonam, cannot contain
her chagrin. Madan, who happens to be around, offers to help her. Of course, he
sets up a meeting in his flat, where everything including the front door is
operated by remote control, spikes her drink, and rapes her.
Soon, she is at
his doorstep – she is pregnant! What will she do?? Madan has to marry her!
Madan agrees; of course she should be married. To Ramesh, not him. And
if she is going to make any noise about it, well, he has also videotaped their
night together, and recorded all their conversation too… Shefali leaves in
anguish.
Ramesh is busy
romancing Poonam, but her ‘uncle’ is beginning to be a fly in the ointment. So
off goes Ramesh to his professor to seek advice. Oops! He finds out that his
professor is the hidden rival, and the swords are now in the open.
Meanwhile,
Shefali is abducted in plain daylight, and Ramesh is a witness. Like all good
heroes, he sets off in chase, and rescues her. The villains leave when they see
another car coming along. An old man steps out, and is all concern. He insists
that they take some refreshment since the lady is weak and the gentleman is
tired out from fighting.
As Ramesh and
Shefali sit outside, the old man goes in to order the soft drinks. We see him
giving the waiter money, and some pills. A-ha. Keen-eyed viewers of countless
Hindi masala movies will know at once – daal mein kuch kaala hain.
Sure
enough, Shefali feels faint, and the old man solicitously offers Ramesh his own
room so the lady can rest for some time before they leave. Just as they
enter the room, and place Shefali on the bed, Ramesh is overcome with
dizziness. When he comes to, he is undressed (shhh,
don’t tell the censor board) and so is Shefali. Aghast, he quickly
clambers into his clothes but not before Shefali also comes to, and bursts into
sobs. Ramesh is quick to disclaim all knowledge – do you think I could
do something so heinous, he asks. Shefali is resigned (more like martyred, if you ask me); ‘Men will
be men; it’s always the woman who has to bear the brunt,’ she says. Ramesh is
flustered, but he offers no consolation.
Soon, they are
back in the city, and Ramesh finds that his professor is still a thorn in his
side. When Poonam decides to stay with her ‘uncle’ because he is ailing, Ramesh
is furious. However, Poonam manao-fies him. (And
this is the song that caused my downfall!) The professor,
watching, realises that Poonam is as much in love with Ramesh, as he with her,
and though heartbroken, retreats from the fray.
Back at
Ramesh’s, his parents and Narayan are busy addressing wedding invitations.
However, troubles are just amassing on the horizon for Ramesh and Poonam.
Shefali has come to Ramesh claiming she is pregnant; if anyone were to find
out, she would have no other recourse but to kill herself. Ramesh first brushes
her off, but his own sense of decency begins to gnaw at him – he finally gives
in, takes her to the gynaecologist, and then promises to marry her to save her
honour.
Now, all he has
to do, is to tell his parents that the name of the girl on the wedding
invitation has to be changed; tell Poonam that he loved her but really didn’t
mean to marry her; tell his professor that Poonam is so beautiful, anyone would
be proud to marry her; and of course, not tell anyone why he is
marrying Shefali.
Let’s take a
look at the tangled web for a second. Who was the old man who set Ramesh and
Shefali up? Is Shefali a victim who is just making use of an opportunity that
came her way? Or is this all a complicated trap? Will the path of true love
lead to a happy ending for Ramesh and Poonam? Or will Poonam marry the
professor? Will Madan get his come-uppance? And oh, will Ramesh’s father ever
stop being irritated?
This was a movie
that began well, with some lovely cartoon credits, and a reasonably decent
premise. Now, if only they hadn’t decided that ‘entertainer’ meant that the
film should have ‘ackshun, drrraamma, emoshun’ all mixed together with the
comedy. And, if they had realised that ‘innocent village maiden’ need not mean
a hyper, over-the-top, chulbuli-ness...
Saira Banu is at
her prettiest, and shrillest, screechiest best here. Made me want to clap my
hands over my ears, or mute the sound or something. She seemed to only talk at
high pitch and her giggles were beyond irritating. Until the last few scenes,
when the drama went up a couple of notches – then, she was sober, and
gave it her all. She was good!
Joy Mukherjee
did his Shammi routine quite well, but, as I said, was at least a decade older
than his purported age. And it showed.
IS Johar was his inimitable self,
mouthing the dialogues (by Gulzar) as dryly as only he could. As the professor
who finds love mid-life, only to be told that he is ‘too old’; his resignation
when he realises that youth calls to youth... he was perfect.
Debutante
Urvashi Dutta had quite a bit of screen time, but I’m afraid she didn’t leave
much of an impact. For one, her role in the movie just twisted what might have
been a brilliant straight-forward comedy of oneupmanship into an average masala
- but hey, who am I to criticise? The film was a hit when it released, and
is still a favourite re-run. Watchable once, I guess; or re-watchable once more
after a l-o-n-g period – at least for me.
*mini-spoiler*
I did like the
ending though – while Madan, who was thoroughly bad, ended up dead as the
proverbial door nail, the girl, pregnant-out-of-wedlock, is not dead or dying.
And Shefali actually gets to have a happy ending, without too much moralising.
Hurrah!