Ishqiya

Clint Eastwood meets Raja Bhaiyya.

If nothing else, this movie will be remembered as a part of the effort by a few fresh-blood Bollywood filmmakers in ridding the industry of its pretentious decency. These directors include Anurag Kashyap, Dibakar Bannerjee, Vishal Bharadwaj (Ishqiya's producer, MD, dialogue writer etc etc) and now Abhishek Chaubey.

While the bumble-bee and kissing flowers (for making out scenes), vulture (rapes), blemishless handsome hero and chaste heroine are being slowly relegated to history, the prudery surrounding street language (not the romanticised, caricaturised version) too is being surely abandoned for the raw flesh and blood lingo. Cultural hawks and prudes, its time to go take a walk!

"Bold", I guess, is the word.

Chaubey and Bharadwaj take the movie-watcher on an unpaid trip through the underbelly of the cowbelt baddies' mind. And they do it in a way that at any time one would expect a Tuco or a Blondie from 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly' to jump out of one of the primitive streets in the Hindi heartland and go 'pow! pow!'. Cheekily, the slow, hissy drawl has been alotted to the villain of the movie.

This time the word's "stylish".

The plot -- too complicated for me, but perhaps just right for "Old West Action" -- could possibly be the biggest dampener. It weaves around two small-time crooks and their female acquiantence who are caught in a web of deceit, confusion and romance. Ironically, their do or die situations are also some of the most hilarious, at least going by the crisp and incisive exchanges.

While three is nothing exceptional about the veteran Naseerudding Shah portrayal of Khalujaan, it is Arshad Warsi who takes the cake as the mumbling, kohl-eyed womaniser nephew. He effuses a certain boyish charm beneath a roguish persona. Vidya Balan is very impressive as the wronged yet iron-willed wife, whose deceptive duality of character takes the mama-bhanja duo on a jolly good romantic ride.

But the best offering in the acting department is the sidekick -- the sweeper boy who joins the naxals, the adulterous industrialist, the villains etc. They give the movie the authentic feel and complete the rugged texture.

While the flow of the movie is at times spoilt by continuity problems, the background score and songs make it up with their lilting balladry. Watch out for "Ibn-e-Batuta..." and "Dil To Baccha".

All in all a good fare.

3 Idiots

There are two ways of looking at this movie -- as in the case of most movies actually.

One, as a standalone project. Second, as another Rajkumar Hirani-Vidhu Vinod Chopra presentation.

As the first, 3 Idiots scores. And scores well.

It has the verve and the heart to carry through the message about education, youthfulness, fresh thinking and competition. Aamir Khan, Madhavan and Sharman Joshi bring out their best.

Going by the second perspective, however, I was terribly disappointed by the movie.

When Raju Hirani, associated with gentle and healthy humour that one carries home and internalises in the next few days, needs an old sick man's pubic hair getting rolled into a chappatti to make people laugh, then there is something seriously wrong.

However, there is another flaw in this department that is even bigger and tragic for the film-makers. They fall for the convenient trap of stereotyping and caricaturing in various degrees, especially from a north Indian Hindu's point of view.

The cunning and geeky south Indian, the bearded Muslim taking a photograph of his army of burqa-clad womenfolk, the morose science teachers, the spoilt rich brat- hardworking poor brat -- the Hirani-VVC duo has used them to the hilt and gotten away with it... sadly.

Honestly, the movie left a slightly bad aftertaste in me. And tonnes of disappointment when I thought about Munnabhai and Circuit.

Bole To... Mamu Bana Daala.