Salaam-e-Ishq (2007)

Who's this guy? We don't know. But we love his expression. And, gosh, we're gonna swim against the tide and say, Anil, you should shave your stache sometimes just to mix it up a bit!

"Timepass" is a word that gets tossed around a lot when reviewing Hindi films. We at the PPCC have never actually used it, as we've never been sure what it's supposed to mean. Is it good that time passed? Or is it time that we want back? And surely, PPCC that we are, we watch movies for more than just to... pass the freakin' time. I mean, that happens already!

But Salaam-E-Ishq (A salute to love) is pretty much that: a timepass. It was a neutral companion to an otherwise sociable night, and we spent most of the evening cheerfully indifferent to what was happening onscreen. Every so often, we would turn our attention back to see yet another couple weeping from this seemingly infinite source of romantic melodrama, and we were left none the wiser about what was going on and not really very interested about what happened to who.

In fact, we at the PPCC don't think that we would have even understood most of the plotlines if we hadn't read the Wikipedia entry before watching. They hardly made an impression. And the only plotlines we did pay any amount of attention to - the memory loss one, the adultery one, the white girl one - ended up seeming facile and superficial. Scene one: man is bored. Scene two: man meets mistress. Scene three: affair. Scene four: man asks for forgiveness. What? That's it?

Very briefly, the plot: There's Memory Loss Couple (John Abraham and Vidya Balan), Adultery Couple (Anil Kapoor and Juhi Chawla), Starlet Couple (Priyanka Chopra and Salman Khan and a little bit o' Tinnu Anand!), Taxi-Wallah Meets White Girl Couple (Govinda and Shannon Esra), Comedy Subplot Suhaag Raat Couple (Sohail Khan and Isha Koppikar) and Commitment Phobic Couple (Akshay Khanna and Ayesha Takia and a little bit o' Prem Chopra!).


Oh, you poor, sweet John Abraham. You go back to your Dostana and have some fun.

Normally we're big fans of these broad canvas emotional epics, and we love ensembles too. In fact, give us an ensemble of roughly sketched stereotypes any day over some meticulously detailed single protagonist. Better Serenity to, say, Pasqualino Settebellezze. Two hours is, after all, a long time to spend in just one person's head (and, in this case, it was almost four hours!). Plus, we like the Baroque Love, Actually "oh, humanity!" web of life vibe, where significant characters brush shoulders on the street and never realize that they're both living their own private melodramas. That's so true, philosophically-speaking, isn't it? We're all the heroes of our private films.

Yet - and we hate to say this - all the other reviews are correct. Salaam-e-Ishq (whose title is taken, incidentally, from one of our favorite Rekha songs) suffers from too much weight. There's just two many plotlines, too many emotions, and too much happening for a simple PPCC to comprehend. It was impossible to emotionally engage on anything but the most superficial level. Despite talented actors, such as Anil and Juhi, putting in their best efforts - Anil even gets a meltdown! YESSS! - they were the merest fleeting glimpses of people. Partly this was the director's fault, too, as only a supremely efficient storyteller could paint a compelling and deep mini-story with literally four or five scenes. That's not to say the director, Nikhil Advani, doesn't do very well in some moments. The monotony of Anil's London life is established quickly and elegantly with some good aesthetic: repetition, muted colors, faceless hordes. Unfortunately, where Advani's storytelling was tight and astute in some moments, it became bloated and dragged in others - as funny as Akshay Khanna's commitment-fearing bachelor was, the jokes quickly went stale with over-use.

Advani gave himself a fairly impossible task - tell six compelling mini-films in under four hours - and succeeded in lumps. This is a shame, since we enjoyed all the performances - from Priyanka's hilarious third-person Kamini, to Akshay's wailing insecurities, to Juhi's restraint, to Anil's meltdowns (sans stache!), to John Abraham's earnest earnestness, to the unexpected and welcome surprises of PPCC house favorites Prem Chopra and Tinnu Anand!


Salman Khan even got the better of us and, when we were paying attention, we had to admit he was kinda cute. Aw, shyucks!

The songs were also quite fab. Beth already warned us that the title song was great - and it was! It was a glorious anthem to the big canvas idea we were talking about. Just watch it and you'll see. But also try to follow what's happening to all the characters, especially as the tempo picks up towards the end - aargh, it's too much, too fast! This "everyone all the time!" show continues into the melancholy Ya Rabba which similarly attempts to capture everything that's happening to everyone and succeeds only partially. We paid attention to what was happening to our favored story threads - those being Memory Loss, Adultery and White Girl - but the rest of the plots just became clutter. And that pretty much goes for the entire film: pretty shots, compelling stories, nice performances, but just too much clutter! It becomes a big old jumble that (inevitably, as we haven't emotionally invested in anyone really) loses steam and becomes an overlong stretch of soap.

Ram Jaane (1995)

An out-of-nowhere shower scene for SRK lovers.

SRK apologists make a lot of hooplah of his acting in films like Swades or Chak De! India, but the PPCC would like to the advance the no doubt unpopular argument that SRK was truly a golden performer back in the day. That is, we have always been far more impressed with the manic, vulnerable, old school SRK of Darr and Baazigar than with the manufactured media product of post-2000. (Though the media product looks better.) Our most recent confirmation of the proto superstar's magnetism is in Ram Jaane.


The title song, which captures the movie's complete vibe.

A shameless remake of Angels with Dirty Faces, Ram Jaane follows the hard-knock life of an anonymous urchin. When said urchin asks a local holy man his name, the man says, "Ram Jaane!" (God knows) And so it goes. Ram Jaane assumes this name for himself, and it comes to represent his past, present, and future. What will happen now? God knows! He was born in a dumpster and grew up in prison. When the adult Ram Jaane (Shah Rukh Khan) leaves the clink, he runs into childhood friend, Murli (Vivek Mushran). Murli has become a certified Do Gooder, and his orphanage, Apna Ghar (My/Your Home), has become a haven for urchins much like Ram Jaane. RJ also runs into his childhood obsession, Bela (Juhi Chawla). Yearning to re-join the childhood trio, but unable to shake off his criminal connections, RJ charms himself into the Apna Ghar community, becoming its informal bodyguard.

When rival hoodlums attempt to steal away the orphanage's land, RJ lays the murderous smackdown, and this leads to a flashpoint of violence and death for the orphanage. An increasingly anxious Murli decides that RJ's influence is poison for the orphans, and he begs Bela - who loves him, but is beloved by RJ - to emotionally con RJ into redemption. When this prostition-for-morals fails because Bela is unwilling to put out, RJ learns that she was faking it - for her heart was with Murli. Hurt and angry, he lashes out at both and regrets it. He then engages on a suicide run, and much melodrama ensues.


RJ the bad-ass.


We are the world!


Murli and Bela sucked.

This movie is just what it sounds like: pure pulp. The pulpy vibe is reinforced by its comic book presentation: vibrant colors, stark lighting, even posters of Batman and Superman on the walls. Its themes are bleak and hopeless: the ending, in particular, is a toss-up between two awful interpretations, both too painful to accept. We assume that this bleakness, however, comes mostly from the original. What SRK brings to the role is what he had in ample quantities back in the 90s: a capacity for frenzied vulnerability, where emotional wounds are deep and obvious. In many ways, Ram Jaane is just like Ajay/Vijay of Baazigar or Rahul of Darr: protagonists who want something desperately (usually Juhi Chawla) and who are viciously denied this, usually with some emotional trickery along the way by an empty-headed tease. In all three films, SRK is the anti-hero you end up sympathizing with, even as he crosses moral thresholds which ensure his doom.


Comic book characters on the wall!

There was a lot of inventiveness to SRK's performance. As the stuttering, hyper goonda, all twitchy energy, he constantly peppered his lines with sala-a! and ending on nearly Cantonese-sounding kya-a-a. But then - finally some acting! - SRK turned this charicature on its head by presenting these behaviors as nervous mannerisms and a facade, for his scenes with Juhi were a world apart.


A wonderful fantasy song, similar to Om Shanti Om's Dhoom Tana. Ram Jaane imagines himself in a 1970s idyllic naach-gaana. The final moments, returning to reality, feature wonderfully juxtaposing cuts! We love it.

The character of Murli, meanwhile, was like an update of Shashi Kapoor's reformist cop from Chor Sipahee, except without Shashi's looks, charm, or empathy. Vivek Mushran had an excellent ability to look pained, but we had a bit of trouble believing he really cared for RJ or Bela or the children. And his involvement in the Bela Fiasco just further undermined his moral credibility.

Unfortunately, Bela was a disgrace to female characters. The PPCC has oft complained of mainstream Hindi film heroines: more often that not, they are vapid, vacuous and unempowered. The worst can be seen in the 2002 Devdas and Jab Jab Phool Khile - two films which not only reflect patriarchal chauvinism at its worst, but also actively preach it as a desirable "norm"! The prostition of Bela by Murli is so infuriating, it became difficult to watch. The reasoning of the film is as follows: RJ loves Bela, Bela loves Murli, Murli doesn't love Bela but worries about RJ. Murli thus decides that Bela should return RJ's love in an effort to reform him - Murli asks Bela to do this "for him" (meaning Murli), that is, to make this sacrifice of her dignity (and possibly her virginity?) for Murli, who does not even return her affections. Bela obliges, of course. But the film is ambiguous as to how far Murli expects Bela to go: what, exactly, is going to reform RJ? Faux love? Sex? Is Bela supposed to love RJ for real? Does Murli expect RJ to be fooled by Bela's fake love? Obviously not. So is it sexual? Obviously not that, either.


Once again, a woman is caught in the emotional diplomacies of two men. Here, after learning that Bela loves Murli, RJ decides to alienate her in order that his friend may "have" her. He does this by hitting her and calling her a whore.


But then, being a sensitive soul, he suffers for it. Alas, he loved Bela.

Whatever it is, it was grotesque in a way that Juhi's similar emotional con from Darr was not. At least in Darr, Juhi's character was empty-headed but acting on her own survival instinct. In Ram Jaane, Bela is supposedly Murli's sacrificial prostitute for reforming RJ - and she's supposed to have the moral upper hand, too! Ughhhh... This aspect of the film was just terrible, almost to the point that it dragged the film down with it. Thankfully, this whole sequence - which is no doubt supposed to carry emotional resonance - is not overly milked, and so we're spared any prolonged tortures. It soured us enough though, so that what should have been some fun, pulpy melodrama actually became troublesome.

Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa (1993)

Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa (Sometimes Yes, Sometimes No) is the story about a loser. And the most heartachy moment in this film is when that loser believes for a moment that his dreams will come true. After managing to get a date with his dreamgirl via colorful lies and deception, he meets her at the fair and indulges, for a mere hour or two, in his fantasy life. The song, as always, is pitch-perfect:


I hope I never wake up from lalaland.

This is when Bollywood knows what it's doing. This is when, as Suketu Mehta describes, it makes your insides churn in sympathetic lament. Mostly because we know Shah Rukh Khan's doomed Sunil is never going to get the girl; eventually, all the lies will catch up with him (and they do, rapidly, once the song ends). But it's that willing submission to a heavenly slice of escapism which we all indulge in from time to time - especially if we're sitting down to watch a Bollywood movie.

There are several interesting things about Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa, apart from it being the story of a loser who loses the girl. First, the setting is Christian Goa and most of the characters, apart from Sunil, are actively Christian. For a Hindi movie, this gives everything a quirky, off-beat vibe - suddenly all these Christian weddings, funerals, and cultural events seem exotic and edgy. Second, Naseeruddin Shah appears as the local priest - much to our surprise and delight, he sports an Amish-style beard which more than amply compensates for his weak chin (sorry, Naseer, but it is). Third, Naseeruddin Shah's awful-yet-oddly-attractive fictional son from Naajayaz, Deepak Tijori, also features - much to our humming and hawing and pretending we don't find him attractive. Fourth, apparently this same Deepak Tijori was a recent contestant on India's Big Brother! Hey, pop culture!

So Sunil (Shah Rukh Khan), as we mentioned, is apparently the only Hindu around and likes Anna (Suchitra Krishnamoorthi). Anna is kind of a ditz, with vacant eyes and an ever-present smile - but no matter. She is in love with Chris (Deepak Tijori) - is it because Chris is Christian, or is it because he's got that quivery look to his mouth that is kinda sexy (not that we at the PPCC think so)? Whatever her reasons, this is clearly an unresolvable love-triangle. Sunil doesn't let this stop him, though, since he can always use some good ol' fashioned lying to con his way into her heart.

But alas, alack, the course of true love never did run smooth... for LIARS. So Sunil loses the girl, gets kicked out of the band, and is inadvertently also hunted by criminals and pimps. Just to make matters even harder, he fails college - again - leading Dad to consider crushing his son's musical career altogether and banishing him to a lifetime of working in the garage. The local priest (Naseeruddin Shah) intervenes on Sunil's behalf, but to no avail. All seems hopeless until Sunil's ex-bandmates get a shot at the big time playing in some sort of Blues Brothers-esque Rawhide bar where the customers throw their beer bottles at you. Since Sunil is deeply sensitive, he understands that these violent customers need songs that speak to them, about their life circumstances. Being a pimp, after all, is a pretty tough life. So Sunil channels the powers of Dick Tracy and sudden inexplicably appearing sound-stages (complete with dry ice) to produce a smash hit and save the band from death-by-bottle. He also manages to make friends with the criminal dons who were previously trying to kill him. Phew, close one.


Bollywood meets Dick Tracy.

The band is grateful, but Anna remains cold. She is, after all, engaged to Chris now. As usual, Chris is a higher caste and hence there are some difficulties leading to the marriage - which Sunil takes advantage of to put his name in for a bid again. Yet Anna rejects him. Again.


With none of the human honesty from the earlier song, unfortunately.

Dammit, man, just give up. Sunil eventually does, since there's nothing anyone can do to convince Anna that his love is more worthy than Chris - even the lovely song, Vah To Hai Albela, sung by practically EVERYONE in the film, chorusing about how singular and delightful Sunil really is and if only some people (such as his father, or his crush) would frickin' recognize once in a while. Dum dee dum...

The performances in this film which are strongest are Shah Rukh's (somewhat surprisingly, his face was just more elastic back in The Day), Naseeruddin Shah's (unsurprisingly, I mean, come on), and the whole eclectic gang of supporting-the-supporting actors (including that one heavy guy from Devdas who cries a lot... you know who I mean). The songs are all uniformly entertaining, and the imagery is blithe and delightful. Particularly enjoyable was the way the director effortlessly mingled Sunil's fantasies with Sunil's day-to-day drudgery. We've heard people here and there nostalgize over KHKN, and there's certainly a vulnerability, bouyancy and freshness to Early Shah Rukh Khan that seems to be, if not fading, certainly getting re-packaged into a less spontaneous Media Product post-Y2K.

Darr (1993)

Many have charted the origins of Shah Rukh Khan's rise to fame, and major way-stations on that road to glitz can be found in his double-whammy of demented lover roles from back in the early 90s. These two roles are, of course, in the films Baazigar and Darr (Fear). The films are really quite similar. In both, Shah Rukh Khan is clearly insane and villainous. In both, he suddenly switches everything around on you so that, by the last ten minutes, you realize he's actually charming in a vulnerable, schizo way, and, in both, you suddenly gasp, "Nooooooo!" when you realize the inevitable end of most Bollywood villains (falling into a vat of lava, or similar).

But if Baazigar is Luke Skywalker, then Darr is Han Solo. If Baazigar is Veeru, Darr is Jai. (Hot damn, we made a Sholay reference!) Darr is edgier. Darr is darrker (hee). Darr is just a little... bit... more.


You're mine, K-K-K-Kiran.

There's little ambiguity to Shah Rukh's character in Darr, Rahul. Whereas Baazigar's Ajay/Vicky was a bit of a mystery, and much of the film's delight came in unravelling just what the hell he thought he was doing, Rahul is pretty straightforward: "I love you, K-K-K-K-Kiran!" Yes, he's insane, in the way only movie characters can be insane. He even has a Stutter of the Demented, a la Jeremy Irons in Die Hard 2. He flashes pictures of Kiran (Juhi Chawla) on the walls of his (admittedly totally awesomely furnished) bedroom. He carves KIRAN into his chest. He has lengthy conversations with his late mother. And he calls Kiran night after night, terrorizing her and her fiancee, Action Man Sunil (Sunny Deol). In the usual irony of Hindi cinema, Rahul is actually Sunil's boss' son, so there are many moments when everyone is together and no one (except Rahul... and us!) realize who's been calling who.

Like Baazigar, this is all very fun and engaging in a B-movie way. Ooh, Rahul snuck into the family's Holi festivities! Aah, Rahul is violating Kiran's personal space yet again by invading her home! Ooh, Rahul's junkie friend has provided the perfect cover!


They're singing the Silsila Holi song!

And we at the PPCC knew what was coming. We had heard that you suddenly Feel for Rahul, that Shah Rukh's magical touch makes even this seemingly one-dimensional (or, at least, obviously scary) villain into someone you end up sympathizing with. What we at the PPCC did not expect was just how effective this transformation is. In the final scenes, (apparently intentionally) reminiscent of that oldie but goldie Dead Calm, when Rahul rocks himself in his seat, holding himself and singing pathetically, Tu hai meri, Kiran... Tu hai meri..., we suddenly exclaimed, "Oh no, I don't want him to fall into a vat of bubbly lava!"

Indeed, they say that, for the first time in filmi history, the cinema audiences cheered when the villain stabbed the hero. When the hero, being an Action Man, improbably returns to life to then beat up the villain, our insides went all funny and compassionate. Oh, don't do it, Sunil, he can't help being mental. He just needs a girlfriend! He just needs his mother's love!


The bestest, bad-assest song in the film.

Indeed, Shah Rukh's powers are truly a marvel in Darr. He goes at it with energy and intelligence, and he knows eeeeegg-zactly what he's doing to us, the viewer. Another rumor is that Sunny Deol was so upset with how he was portrayed in Darr (like a boring, wooden, lame-o) that he broke ties with director Yash Chopra altogether. Aamir Khan also backed out, as he was initially cast as Rahul, and yet he didn't like the way Chopra "played games" - telling the hero he was the hero and the villain he was actually the anti-hero? Whatever Chopra said, it's clear that Rahul was a role that came with baggage. Shah Rukh stepped in and delivered a whollop, sending him high onto the popularity charts and knocking Sunny Deol back a bit.

Once again, we must note that the female characters in some mainstream movies alternate between tearful, frightened and demure, with little personality in between all that. Juhi Chawla, who is usually quite fun (see Naajayaz or Paheli), basically just sits along for this ride, playing victim and then, briefly, heartless tart. Sunny Deol, as we said, comes across as a boring, wooden, lame-o.

In true Yash Chopra style, the settings are marvellous and the Swiss Alps, yes, feature again. Thankfully, Yashji spares us his poetry and the waterfalls, and instead presents us with some delicious tension and suspense. Yay for thrillers! But most of all, yay for SRK!

Paheli (2005)

Folk myth + feminism + sweet sweet lovin' = huzzah!


Love, love, looooove.

Amol Palekar's Paheli is an equation of love, oh yeah, baby. It's also sensitive, intelligent, and different, a perfect woman's fantasy, sending barbs to our squishy heart. It manages to transmit both that sense of stylized archetypes we find in old folktales, as well as modern themes of spousal obligations and women's needs. And it does all this while still retaining the human aspect! We even cried in the end. Oh, how we cried.


Glitz!

Somewhere in ancient, untouched Rajasthan, a woman named Lachchi (Rani Mukherjee) is marrying into the rich trading family of Kishanlal (Shah Rukh Khan). While Lachchi's lady friends warn her about the inevitable bom chicka wah wah that accompanies wedding nights, Kishanlal turns out to be a repressed, fussy asexual, more preoccupied by his wedding accounts than his newly acquired wife. Lachchi is understandably disappointed, and she's even further let down when Kishanlal announces he'll be going away on business for FIVE YEARS. Lachchi cries. But unbeknownst to her, a ghost/demon/spirit (Shah Rukh Khan) has taken a most uncharacteristically human fancy to her. As soon as the husband's out of sight, the ghost promptly assumes his moustachioed, dimpled form and comes waltzing back into the bedroom. Lachchi, I'm ho-ome!


Ta-da!

Apart from being infatuated, the ghost also exhibits other strange signs of humanity: he cannot tell a lie. So after confessing his otherworldly origins (and turning the romantic charm onto hyperdrive), he offers Lachchi a choice: either wait for your deadbeat husband who gets turned on by balancing the accounts to return, or get this new, shiny lookalike who loves you for really real. And's gonna love you aaaall niiiight looong. Is it any surprise who Lachchi picks? He-llo.


Naseer shall be king of all puppets!

Well, it's all fun and sexcapades until the real husband turns up after five years, right when a pregnant Lachchi (Rosemary?!) goes into labor. Demon baby! "Huh?" the villagers cry. "Who's who?!" We get double Shah Rukh (believably done) and a very confused supporting cast. Clearly, it's time to call in the Patriarch of Bollywood, Amitabh Bachchan (helpfully dressed as a goatherd), to settle the score. But first, let us pose a philosophical query: who is the real "husband"? The legal one who went through the rituals, or the nonhuman one who really really loves her?


Amitabh will crush you with his hot coals of justice.

Throughout the film, two puppets drop down from above to narrate and comment. The fact that these puppets are voiced by Naseeruddin Shah and his wife, Ratna Pathak Shah, as well as the fact that Amitabh Bachchan shows up for five minutes in a comically large turban, should be signal enough: this movie has been endorsed by the rulers of Bollywood and Parallel Cinema alike. And indeed, this film is one of those rare gems where the commercial blends with the aesthetic/intellectual to make something appealing for all of us (or, rather, every part of us). It presents us with interesting ethical dilemmas too: all three characters (Lachchi, Ghost, Real Husband) have sympathy and depth, making a tidy ending impossible. The conclusion is fascinatingly ambiguous, leading us to go all Freudian and declare that the story was really about one husband's dual responsibility (to work, and to home) and repressed need to be loved. And thank goodness for respecting the woman's wishes. Finally!


A wonderfully meta finish. Because we're all puppets on parade, aren't we?

Shah Rukh Khan's charm is nearly overpowering, especially when he's playing Every Girl's Dream Boat, the Ghost. Here is a man (well, man-like entity) who will shower you with praise, remain loyal, love you everywhere and anywhere, and has no fear of crying. Be still, our hearts! Shah Rukh is also excellent in juxtaposing Perfect Husband to the nerdy Kishanlal; most impressive was how he managed to infuse this comical, traditionally villainous character with a big heart. Poor dear.

Rani Mukherjee is also lovely as Lachchi, though she really doesn't have to do much other than go "whoopee!" when she gets her ghost and cry when she doesn't. More interesting is Juhi Chawla, older and wiser since her Naajayaz days, who carries a lot of depth in her Penelope-like role. We should also note Dilip Prabhavalkar as the pothead uncle, and Rajpal Yadav as the harassed mailman constantly delivering letters between the two Shah Rukhs.

Naajayaz (1995)

Previously on the PPCC, we mentioned that Naseeruddin Shah is particularly adept at playing paternal figures who like to drink and cry a lot. We were so right.


I'm still alive, so let me live. It's raining, so let me drink. Repeat 10x.

Imagine that it's fifteen years after Masoom. Adulterous D.K. has now turned to the underworld and become a kingpin crime-boss named Raj who prays at the alter of Ganesh. Beautiful little Rahul has grown into a brooding, mullet-ed police officer, Jai (Ajay Devgan). They've all moved to Bombay, and Jai has no idea that the king of crime he seeks to defeat is actually - in an irony Shakespeare or George Lucas would have applauded - his father! (Obi-Wan never told you what happened to him, after all.)

Naajayaz isn't really the sequel to Masoom, though we like to pretend it is. Once again, Naseeruddin Shah plays an adulterous husband who learns that he has an illegitimate son. Once again, the son is adorable and perfect, and the son's presence will wreak havoc in Naseer's otherwise pleasant life. Except now by "wreak havoc" we actually mean people will get kidnapped and shot. And by "adulterous husband" we also mean "criminal lord". And by "pleasant life" we mean about as pleasant as a life of crime can be. So a little violent (beware, lots of jam). Add some Bollywood song-and-dance numbers, and voila! - you have Naajayaz, a highly entertaining film.


Maybe now's not the best time to come clean about paternity issues.


Naseer does this a lot.

The movie starts with some flashbacks interlaced with brooding Naseeruddin Shah shots. We learn that Naseer climbed the ranks of crime by hitting a lot of people on the head with a rock. But he's a victim too! His brother literally lost his tongue to vague gangster types, and his wife's honor was threatened. Life was hard.

Fast forward to the Present Day, and Naseer is now the Marlon Brando Figure presumably cutting other people's tongues out. He lives in a huge Bombay flat with his frail wife, whiny son, loyal mute brother, and an army of henchman. He wears gold chains. He is clearly a bad-ass in the vein of gobstopper candies or Paul Simon songs: hard on the outside, squishy on the inside. Life is a bit better, though still pretty tragic.

Enter an old flame. "Raj, you have another son and he's totally not into crime." He's a police officer, in fact! A police officer obsessed with bringing down the Raj Underworld Empire, indeed! (Raj Raj? Nyuk nyuk nyuk.) Oh NO. What will HAPPEN?


Dear, there's no need to be so dramatic.


Interesting composition! Notice she's at the Golden Ratio!


How it all began. And by "began" we mean "went horribly wrong".

Let's get one thing straight: melodrama can be good sometimes. The Aficionada is very careful about using the term, generally preferring to call something "melodramatic" only if it crossed the threshold of believability and just became silly. Naajayaz teeters precariously close to that threshold - one could say it hugs it; OK, makes out with it - but it never quite topples into the abyss. Yes, we laughed most of our way through the film, but we were also secretly bummed out for poor ol' Raj and his reign of Really Sad.

We like to think this is because of Naseer's uncanny actor skillz, but mayhap we are biased. Suffice to say he is excellent. There's a despairing fatalism to his Raj that makes everything take on that hint of Lear-like tragedy. Stop throwing yourself in front of the bullets, man. Choose life!

Ajay Devgan is highly enjoyable as well; he seems to have perfected the art of crying to the point where he can direct the trails of his tears. Young and soft as he is in this, it's a far cry from Gangaajal - but not too far. Indeed, one could consider Gangaajal the Return of the Jedi of this trilogy; with young Luke (Jai, Rahul)maturing into a grim, bad-ass Jedi master police inspector. You will return Captain Solo and the wookiee to me.


My favorite scene.


I am a pretty flower, la di dah.

As per Bollyusual, the film is long and everything that could be remotely interesting is squeezed out of the plot-idea. We dare not go into everything, but mention only that we also enjoyed all the various sub-subplots: the sneezy police chief, Ajay and his perky girlfriend as they frolic through forests, the middle-aged love triangle, Naseer's paradoxical religious devotion (like the Italian mob boss' Catholicism), and, of course, the mute and loyal bro. It was all very rich, very fun, and tinged with a satisfying sadness. All in all, a highly enjoyable movie. Why, if Naajayaz was a dessert, it would be a massive piece of ice cream cake!