I have one grouse against the movie.
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Not that it is set in Australia and not in India – which sort of says that live-in relationships are acceptable in a western context and not in a desi one.
Not that it has Nick (Saif) and Amber (Preity) as independent individuals devoid of any family attachments (both having conveniently discarded them after some unconvincing tiffs), taking up professions of their liking – (Saif, an architect becoming a chef, while Preity, a medical student, moonlighting as an RJ).
Not that it depicts every other character with his/ her own individuality – no momma-pappas chacha-chachis back home trying to interfere (maybe that s how expats operate).
Not that it has both Saif (35 years) and Preity (31 years) masquerading as people in their mid-20s. (They do have the charisma and energy to pass off as such).
Not that some of its supporting characters are quite a pain. In fact, if you ignore the hamming by a supposedly Mallu, boot-polish coated face Kunal Vijaykar as “Debo Nair” – Preity’s radio station boss and an over-the-top, freely hamming landlord, Jaaved Jaafri, the others are quite okay. Arshad Warsi as Saif’s friend and Jugal Hansraj as Preity’s are quite endearing.
Not that there are gaffes galore in the “large”ly inaccurate depiction of pregnancy and its encumbrances. Firstly, the womb looks too artificial. The bellybutton protruding out from under Preity’s top is quite yuck. Moreover, the absence of any weight put on over other parts of the body, the cravings (for chocolate icecream) happening in the fag end of pregnancy and the dancing and springing on the streets with the huge belly give a completely wrong impression about the condition and capabilities of the incumbent.
Not that it has too many gratuitous nude (by Bollywood standards) shots of a sinewy Saif, showing him in underwear, boxers and one even on the toilet seat. (The last one is then taken further in the closing credits where he is playing a prank on Preity, who accidentally walks in on him. Saif starts talking “crap” about wanting a massage and even shows us his buttcheek! – totally unessential).
Not that it has some unnecessary songs – (aren’t songs always unnecessary?), because the music is quite racy, hip, spirited, and keeps the mood light and fun-filled.
Not that it has the unrecognizable Abhishek Bachchan as a maternity surgeon, hamming outrageously in the corny and contrived “climax” for the sake of having some slapstick comedy.
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My grouse is this:
Here is a guy who has always charted his own path in life. Freeing himself off his background, not only the profession chosen by his parents, but even the name chosen by them – he prefers to be known as Nick, and is irritated if he is referred to as “Nikhil Arora”, his ordained name – he has ensured that his life is his very own, reins in his complete control.
He is a master at his profession – something that he loves doing (how many of us actually get paid for something we enjoy doing?) – has a bachelor pad in which he lives practically in his boxer briefs, watches cookery shows on his large plasma TV, possesses a fetish for cleanliness and tidiness, and a dream of having his own restaurant – something he is working towards and saving dough.
And then comes the problem in his loins – he sees the fiery Amby, with whom he had a torrential exchange on the air waves in her avatar as “Humber” the radio jockey – proposes a live-in relationship.
Fair enough.
The terms of the relationship are quite clear at the very outset – short of being contractual. They pool in their financial resources – despite having to sacrifice his dreams of buying a restaurant – and start living together, naively, in separate bedrooms!!! This farcical arrangement does not last too long and they both land up in the same boudoir!
So far so good! That is bold enough as far as Bollywood goes! No shaadi in the mandir stuff! Just plain in-your-face premarital sex!
And that’s where the problem starts – something somewhere (probably a condom) malfunctions and lo, our heroine is impregnated. And on seeing visuals on a sonography monitor, abandons plans of abortion! Here’s where our hero ought to have wizened up. And believe me, he does! He takes a tough stand – for himself! Bravo, young man, I thought!
Yet, Bollywood is Bollywood! We all have our traditional roots at the end of the day. Our hero is subjected to preaching by the maternity doc about how he ought to be by his girlfriend’s side. Another encounter with a harassed father who tells him how that at the end of the day, the sweet smile of a child compensates for all his troubles…(bah!) And after an excruciatingly long winded pregnancy, our hero proposes marriage in the delivery room. Small mercies for not showing an actual marriage ceremony prior to the delivery just to proclaim the twin infants (yes!) as legitimate offspring of the couple!
PRAY, WHY?!!!
What a superb opportunity this was to make a different statement!
Why did they have to show that the right way forward has to be marriage?
Why does the man have to compromise on his dreams, his freedom, his desires, his lifestyle, just so that he can have a screaming wife and bawling babies to come home to?
Why did they have to put a guilt complex on a man wanting to live by his own rules – made very clear at the start of the relationship?
Why did they have to have such an anti-climax, just to have a feel-good effect?
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Somewhere in the movie, the subtle preaching of this kind is what gets my goat!
Otherwise, if you don’t want to take anything away, this is a fun filled romance, accurately designed for the ticket paying crowd (read, hep teenagers and rich NRIs)!