Himesh has potential to revolutionize Indian cinema forever.
Why?
Because movies like Aap Kaa Surroor can actually provoke the audience to sue — and perhaps then, Bollywood will start showering us with entertainment, and hopefully cease to dump waste into the cinematic backyard.
Let me put it this way — when the villain points a revolver at the hero, and when the hero snatches it and points it back — and when *that* is the climax in today’s day and age — something went dreadfully wrong with the execution. Seriously.
Hence, I’m terribly disappointed with the ‘Real Love Story’ — on all three counts. Himesh, for starters, is as close to being ‘real’ as he is to being president. And the love? — sigh, romance was forced down the throat like pills on a reluctant patient. Oh — and the story — I’d be damned if I find it.
So where do we begin? The flick’s protagonist — HR (Himesh Reshammiya as himself, Lord have mercy) — a rock star whose face is pretty much accustomed to an extended I-smell-shit frown. He’s the ‘epitome of cool’, as the movie insists by making him touch his right year to indicate his displeasure at the crowd’s subdued response — before they erupt in hysteria. Yes, like every other ‘normal’ human being, he has his share of ups and downs — but luckily for him, he has Sravan (Sravan), best friend and business associate.
At the end of that concert, however, HR is arrested on charges of having murdered Nadia, a German journalist. While in jail — he looks away from the camera (as he does so often in the movie) and we’re presented with the flashback — 15 days back in time.
HR is in Germany for a few shows handled by the Khurana & Ruby. The filthy-rich Khurana (Darshan Jariwala) repeatedly verbalizes his philosophy — ‘paisa bolta hai’ (money talks), while Ruby (Mallika Sherawat) makes an entry in an outfit that showcases her USP. The duo is pleased to have HR and his partner in Germany, and are quite hospitable — in fact Ruby goes one step forward and suggests that HR can buzz her should he need anything at ‘any time of the day, or night’. Though Khurana says she’s Germany’s best Lawyer, we wonder — at that statement — if she’s doubles up as the nation’s best escort too. Khurana is hoping to get HR for a World Tour with his firm, but the latter declines as he’s already signed a contract. Even the sultry Ruby can’t seduce him into breaking his commitment. And stupidly, HR, who was quite pricey to admit that he’s in love with Riaa to his langoti-yaar Sravan, stands up and casually informs Ruby — ‘main Riaa se pyaar karta hoon’.
And with a straight face, he rubs in the emotional devastation, by adding: ’saccha pyaar!’. Wham! — flat trauma right through our heads.
While Sravan is a sucker for the opposite sex, Himesh is subtly sad — until he bumps into Riaa (Hansika Motwani), apparently the kind of girl that makes you recall the Gayatri Mantra, moreso as it’s her ringtone. So what if she’s dressed in a deep-neck pink outfit — HR visualizes her in a Salwaar-Khameez, and is bowled over. So what, if the on-screen chemistry is missing? Their eyes meet, they’re in love. So what, if their emotional bond seems as fake as the war in Iraq? So what if Riaa’s father objects to the relationship? They want to tie the knot, and that’s what matters. Eventually, the sane father (Sachin Khadekar) gives up.
Interestingly, ‘rock star’ HR doesn’t booze. Sravan, a fish in these matters, insists on just one drink to celebrate success, nearly doing a gay-pride act with a few hundred ‘tujhe meri kasam’s before HR gives in to the alcoholic. One becomes many, and HR is soon sloshed and can barely walk back home. That’s when Nadia enters his residence for the interview. The door closes — she screams, it’s the interval and I went to refill the popcorn pack, while mustering up the balls to stay on for a terrible second half.
– a half that’s best forgotten, because it’s just plain silly. Ruby sensibly offers to get HR out on bail, but the baseball-cap hero escapes — breaks out of a German jail with an ex-cop, steals a car — the works. He’s still convinced that he’s innocent, and tries to hunt down whoever framed him. This, while Riaa’s still-sensible father decides on her marriage elsewhere, giving HR a 24-hour deadline within which to prove his innocence. Nostradamus Reshammiya replies, oozing with confidence — ‘mujhe yakeen hai ke 24 ghante mein main apne aap ko beqasoor saabith karunga’ and walks away, the frown still stuck on his face, just like the cap on his head.
It gets sillier — for instance, the confused soul suddenly ‘trusts his gut-feeling’ to take Ruby into confidence. The pre-showdown has Himesh holding the real murderer’s weapon, the sole piece of evidence (a revolver) in the case. The murderer holds Riaa hostage, and gets Himesh to lose the gun, which he does so innocently by chucking it into the river. And Mr. Murderer is immediately convinced and lets Riaa go — no questions asked, no doubts whatsoever. Whew, that is some trust.
And yet, there are flaws I can’t cover in this review.
As far as the performances go, they all suck horribly, barring Sravan. Mallika does what she does best — speak less, reveal more, and Sravan offers something to giggle for in this methodless madness. If you mute out the nasals, the music is actually lovely, and I’m hoping some day that HR arranges a few high-bass peppy tracks. The lyrics, as is so common with Himesh, are redundant throughout the song — we get to hear Assalaam-Walaikum about a zillion times before he puts us out of our misery and the track ends.
And concluding with HR — he can only get better after this movie. In other words, this has got to be the worst Himesh we’ve ever seen. On the other hand, I hope he acts more often, that ought to reduce the rhinalgia he inflicts upon us.
One lone star for Mallika’s Mehbooba outfit — emerald green, leaving little to the imagination, and a slit as long as the Nile. Give this moviee — this near-abusive insult to cinema — one huge miss.
If you’ve seen it already, er — welcome to the after-life. Did you hang yourself too?
