The promos have been enticing. The jokes appear to be hilarious. The stage seems to be set for a rollicking fun filled comedy. The promos also tease you with naughty tongue in cheek Rani trying to do a Vidya in a Hindi rounded in Tamil Lyrics. Fresh from a smiling exit from the English Vinglish theatre we feel the gods are smiling on us after all, post a dry spell of months or was it years of having seen a cleanum picturum.
Ok applaud those promo makers. The guys have brilliantly manicured the only best scenes of the movie into a 1 minute promo and before you scream “cheater” they will have vamoosed with the Rs 100 Crores which is apparently now a critical mass club to be in if you want to be seen as the movers in the cine field.
Family and I are still with our jaws dropped in horror. We are trying to fathom what we experienced. If it had not been for an effervescent Rani, we would probably have sworn off movie watching forever. The problem lies with the fact that the makers are not sure if they want to give a ’ play’ feel to the movie, have a wacked out theme, play on a serious philosophy of scent attraction which probably could make a great short story or just stick to the hilarious idea of a Marathi Mulgi who has developed a liking for a hunk from the south who is a student in the college where she works as a librarian. Her family of a brother who overacts furiously, parents eager to get her hitched quickly to prospective grooms or a granny who zooms around in a motorized wheel chair and can provide weak laughter with her maniacal behavior. There are too many premises and treatments styles floating around and short circuiting each other.
Rani is however not to be too bothered and jumps into the role with an enthusiasm that can only characterize great artistes. For some funky reason she gets enamored by the scent of a South Indian hunk and just cannot get over him even when she is close to being engaged to a “take home to mom” nice Maharashtrian boy who is frozen in the Faroukh ‘ Chashme Buddoor ‘ Shaikh days. There is an over the top experience with her librarian colleague which is so out of this world to be believable. The lady is obsessed with a six pack star’s slipping underwear in the posters. The screen play goes to ridiculous lengths. There are a few chuckles along the way solely created by Rani’s dream sequences where she parodies the 80’s and 90’s heroines. She is head over heels with the South ’scenty’ hunk and chases him through the film and keeps herself and us occupied dreaming dance sequences in the multi dancer multi prop Jeetendra- Sridevi style. You cannot however overlook the South Hunk Prithviraj’s six packs which are there on full display
The director had an excellent material on hand if he had just stuck to the dreamy girl who imagines herself as a star and serenades a South Indian boy. Could have made for a great comedy. But the plot is lost and it is left to Rani to salvage the film. She is absolutely outstanding in parts. Prithviraj does not have much to do except look hunky! The rest of the cast apparently from the stage are a bit loud. It is only Subodh Bhave who maintains a sober edge to his role and reminds us constantly of Amol Palekar who we miss so much.
Wonder what Anurag and Sachin had in mind when they include a totally unnecessary petrol pump scene in an extremely vulgar and suggestive manner. It was short of ugh! They squander the opportunity to make a fun filled film which is evident could have been easily possible from some of the early scenes of the main protagonist’s comical interludes with her prospective grooms and if they had exploited the angle of her fascination for hunks. But alas it deteriorates into a shamble of crude scripting which is very unusual for directors who have a Marathi film directing background where the direction is more grounded and credible.
The film does not warrant more than a single star but it will be unfair to Rani who alone commands one more star. More power to her but hope she also tries to influence better scripts in future! It took some effort to propel ourselves back to decent reality. I thought we almost shouted Wakeupum Helpusum Critical conditionum!