Ram-Avtar (1988)

Ram-Avtar starts out very strong, with a fun, quirky vibe, drunken "tapori bastard" antics and some "Aww!"-inducing bromantics. But then, at around the halfway mark, the film starts to rot away like that perfect papaya you left on the counter for too long. With each passing scene, it rots and rots, eventually crumbling into a lesser copy of the already trying Sangam. Dude, we've already seen this film, and it was such a drag.


Ram (Sunny Deol). This scene awakened an intense craving in us for some Sound of Music action. Expect that from your local PPCC soon.


Avtar (Anil Kapoor)! This scene awakened an intense craving in us for... well, more Anil Kapoor action. Expect that from your local PPCC soon. Okay, you probably already do.

The strong opening: businesslady Sangeeta (Sridevi) lives in a village near Srinagar and keeps getting hassled by the wicked Gundappaswami (Shakti Kapoor, in heavy "South Indian" makeup) and his "Seven Bald Men" gang (yes, really). To fight them off, Sangeeta hires her own muscle: a silly, drunken cartoon named Avtar (Anil Kapoor). In a grand entrance reminiscent of Anil Kapoor's introduction in Ram Lakhan, or even Toshiro Mifune's introduction in any number of Toshiro Mifune movies, Avtar is thrown from the bus in the middle of town square, dead drunk. As the goons encircle and harass a pair of poor villagers, the tension rises, the noon sun burns quietly, and suddenly, at the nagging of a rooster, Avtar rouses himself to ass-kicking effect. "Khalaaaas!"

Now who doesn't love an ass-kicking tapori with a heart of gold? Uh, NO ONE. So after this single bombastic entrance, the entire, grateful population of the village (and the PPCC) falls in love with Avtar, and he meanwhile falls in love with Sangeeta. But it's clear that Sangeeta, for however endearingly scruffy she might find him, is not interested.

Enter the hunky, squeaky-clean Ram (Sunny Deol), Avtar's childhood friend. Ram and Sangeeta bump into each other a few times, and while Ram is smitten, Sangeeta's not really interested... that is, until he saves her from a Rohypnol-wielding Italian stereotype (!) Marconi (Manik Irani). Then, grateful, she falls for him. (Gratitude and love are really the dominant feelings here.)


The boys have a lot of funnily effeminate moments, such as when Ram wraps himself in a shower curtain of cuddliness.


Or Avtar squees because of his new suit.


And then starts mugging in the mirror and pulls the French face fart the Italian shrug! Oh, bless.

Yet while Ram and Sangeeta's relationship soars into the usual Himalayan heights, Avtar is getting similarly swept away by his growing crush for Sangeeta. Eventually, both boys approach her father for marriage arrangements on the same day, at the same time, and when one of them figures everything out - in this case, Ram - the rest of the film progresses much as you would expect: it turns into Sangam, with Ram and Sangeeta quietly suffering as they protect the increasingly fragile Avtar from the cold, hard reality that... OMG! They had feelings for each other! But Avtar would be so sad and lonely if they just told him! Clearly that means someone has to get out of the way... BY KILLING THEMSELVES.

Sigh. If you know old Hindi films, you know several things in filmi love triangles are certain: no one JUST SAYS IT, no one can apparently cope with break-up, marriages are sacrosanct and an unhappy, shambolic marriage is better than a divorce (even if a divorce would make everyone concerned happier), "love is just a feeling that happens, marriage is a fact" (Sangeeta's words!), and love triangles are deadly. By the end of the film, when the three characters were wrestling each other over who gets to commit suicide first, the PPCC couldn't help but laugh. Filmi morality can get so contorted at times. Goodness, yes, breaking up is hard to do (and hard for audiences to accept, apparently), but, gosh, when it's a question of triple suicide and breaking up... come on, people!

It's interesting, though, isn't it? So many Hindi films are moral fables which propagate cultural norms (sometimes effectively, sometimes ineffectively) and it's always striking to see films martyr their characters in the name of ideals. In this case, marriage is shown to outvalue human life. And, unsurprisingly, it's the woman who preserves the cultural norm: as in Woh 7 Din, even though she is unhappy in her marriage, Sangeeta does everything she can to preserve it.


Who loves each other more? Him and her?


Or him and him? We rest our case.

We at the PPCC were just bewildered that this film decided to go the Sangam way at all. The beginning was so breezy! It was Salaakhen-style charm: fun fluff, a tongue-in-cheek vibe, everyone in visible good humor. When Ram realizes that he and his best friend love the same girl, and Anil Kapoor pulls a face of such heartbreaking vulnerability, we thought, "Awww, the poor dear! Now they better not undermine this by playing it for laughs." Little did we know they would swing the entire narrative to the other side and play it for maximum melodrama! Sigh.

It's like the film was suddenly wrestled away from the original director. Similarly, the performances, which were bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and sweetly ridiculous in the first half, suddenly came clunking down into dead-eyed moral pontificating. There was some fun in watching Anil have his trademark scene of meltdown (now in Johnny Walker Black Label variety), but even that couldn't rouse us from the stupor of boredom the second half provoked.


So we'll use this opportunity to note the best physical asset of Anil Kapoor: his surprisingly shapely, muscular legs! Wow! Has he been blessed by the squat god or what?!

Review: khalaaaaaaas!

In site news, check out our newest fiddly widget below this review: the REACTIONS buttons! For those readers too lazy/shy to comment, now you can have your feelings articulated at the CLICK OF A BUTTON. OMG SQUEEEEEE!

Karma (1986)

Subhash Ghai's hit film, Karma, is a silly and entertaining masala romp whose high point includes a scene with Anil Kapoor dressed as a cross between a Mexican bandito and a bumblebee.


Olé!

Karma is a mish-mash of xenophobic nationalism and the old Dirty Dozen-esque "reformed convicts go on a suicidal mission" cliché. Our hero is Vishwapratap Singh (Dilip Kumar), a jailer who believes in rehabilitating prisoners (and family members) via rousing patriotic anthems. One day, he catches the dastardly quasi-British, quasi-Pakistani, quasi-something foreigner, Dr. Dang (Anupam Kher), who - along with token White Masala Villain (Tom Alter) and a John Lennon lookalike (Shakti Kapoor) - runs an "evil empire" whose only goal is to destroy India. Dr. Dang vows to escape from Vishwapratap's clutches - and indeed, he does so, setting off a series of explosions which destroy Vishwapratap's home and work, killing off most of his family and all the prisoners. Dang, Dr. Dang!


Dilip's disguise. Part one.


Part two.

Vowing for revenge, Vishwapratap officially retires and adopts the alias of "Dada Thakur", secretly recruiting three death row convicts - the murderous Baiju (Jackie Shroff), ex-terrorist Khairuddin (Naseeruddin Shah), and... clumsy goofball Johnny (Anil Kapoor) - for a suicidal mission to destroy Dr. Dang once and for all. Don't ask us what Johnny did to get on death row; it's never explained, and we kind of think he just accidentally bumbled his way into prison in that kooky, ridiculous way of his. Maybe he was there for crimes against fashion? Anyway, as the three convicts begin their special training - which mostly involves driving around the Himalayas in an armored truck, sneaking sips of Johnny Walker and teasing each other - Baiju falls in love with the fiery Radha (Sridevi), while Johnny is ensnared by a superstitious village belle, Tulsi (Phoonam Dhillon).

The story's not really about destroying Dr. Dang, which is just a flimsy gimmick meant to string along what we're really interested in: the bromance and eventual redemption of the three "anti-socials" Baiju, Khairuddin and Johnny. In a touching parallel, Vishwapratap's two sons were killed by Dr. Dang's bombs and, little by little, he begins to see them in Baiju and Johnny. (Indeed, one of the sons was even named Anil! Eerie.) Meanwhile, humorless Khair is full of rage due to a past tragedy, and he eventually becomes the trio's older brother figure. The chemistry between these three actors is great and the only reason we enjoyed this film as much as we did. No one else in the cast has that much to do - even lovely Dilip Kumar, Sridevi, Phoonam Dillon, Bindu (?!), Anupam Kher - since so much time is spent with the trio and their massive charisma. And even within the trio, the Jackie/Anil jodi power tends to overshadow Naseer. That said, poor Naseer is saddled with maybe the heaviest, gloomiest role in the film, so that he mostly shouts a lot and his rare smiles are like shafts of sunlight on a cloudy day. Oh, Naseer!


These three were making GOLD in the 1980s: Anil Kapoor, Naseeruddin Shah, Jackie Shroff.


The Jackie/Anil fraternal love is always so sweet.


For more, see Ram Lakhan and Parinda.

Normally, when films talk about terrorism or feature villainous, dictatorial foreigners intent on destroying the desh, we at the PPCC have ample commentary to make. This time round though, we can't really critique the film's sociopolitical themes since they seem so blatantly... silly. Even the over-the-top Kranti was a more thoughtful film, since it was addressing - in its zany, one-sided way - a real historical event: the British Raj. Karma's foreign villains, instead, are paper-thin inventions. Where is Dr. Dang from, anyway? His "evil empire" has its own flag, uniform and small fort - they just seem like loons with too many coconut bombs, not real threats to the Indian nation. Heck, even Mogambo did a better job of destablizing the country - who knows what the rupee's inflation rate was with all that adulterated food on the market! The cackling Dr. Dang seems pretty useless by comparison; he just has a personal beef with Vishwapratap, probably because the latter didn't give him a cushioned seat when he was in his prison.

Most of the songs were unremarkable, though some of the picturizations were fun. Subhash Ghai's direction was generally good and his camerawork just sucked in the Himalayan background - the colors, compositions and everything were beautiful and striking. Overall though, this film wouldn't be half as good as it is if it wasn't for the studly Jackie Shroff, the incredibly lovable Anil Kapoor and the subtle Naseeruddin Shah, so if you're a fan of any of them - and goodness, you should love all of them, they're so fab! - we recommend it.


Oh, Subhash Ghai, you win our hearts with compositions like this!

Judaai (1997)

Judaai, a moral fable about the evils of greed, is both too exaggerated and too simplistic to make much of an impact. It also has far too many obnoxious touches - from an unsympathetic and almost odious anti-heroine to a brain-dead comedy sideplot to a grating character motto ("Hello!") - so that we spent much of it fast-forwarding or groaning or both.


Check out who's on the TV screen: CHARLES BARKLEY OMG!!! 1990s FLASHBACK!!!

Raj (Anil Kapoor) and Kaajal (Sridevi) are a (somewhat) happily married couple with two charming kids. The main source of tension is Kaajal's desire to be rich - a desire which seems to spring eternal. Although Raj is an honest and hardworking middle-class engineer, Kaajal has got class on the brain, and she insists that the family adopt more "fancy" manners such as:

• Eating bread, butter and jam rather than roti parcels.
  
• Using fake plastic instead of plain, honest sindoor.
  
• Taking taxis rather than the bus.
  
• Having the children call her "Mummy" rather than the more "middle-class"-sounding "Ma".

Raj, a meek and patient husband, does what he can, but Kaajal is just never satisfied - and, in some interesting gender role reversals, she even beats on him! (Hey, this is actually the second film where we found ourselves urging Anil Kapoor to respect himself and not go back to his abusive relationship!)

Enter Janhvi (Urmila Matondkar), who has everything Kaajal wants (loads and loads of cash), and who wants everything Kaajal has (loads and loads of Anil Kapoor's bouncy, mustachey, husbandly goodness). The ladies - in another interesting gender role reversal - arrange a trade, with Kaajal essentially pimping out her husband in exchange for all that glorious moolah. Janhvi happily adopts the middle-class Good Indian Wife role and tends to the tiffins and pooja sets while Kaajal lives it up and takes to sleeping with rupee notes (yes, really). Raj, upset at being a pawn and essentially occupying the typically powerless "heroine" role, eventually finds himself falling for his "second" wife Janhvi despite himself. So do the kids. And it's only when the hearts start squeezing in the wrong direction that Kaajal realizes what anyone with any sort of moral brain already knew: GREED IS BAD... ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU START PIMPING YOUR FAMILY.


Ahh, the trappings of wealth haven't changed much: iPod, toy dog, check.


The only funny thing about the comedy sideplot was Kader Khan's portrait. Okay, and Johnny Lever does a decent Sanjeev Kumar impression.

We haven't mentioned the horrible comedy subplot, mostly because - after two scenes - we realized just how horrible it was, and so spent the rest of the film fastforwarding. Basically, the comedy subplot has three jokes:

1. Johnny Lever marries a brainless tart who can only say one phrase, "Abba Dhabba Jabba."
2. Her father, who has a question mark drawn on his forehead, is a chatterbox who asks a thousand questions.
3. They know a guy who says, "MMMM!?!!" in a strange way at the end of every sentence.

Funny, right? Well, no. We didn't think so.

There were a couple interesting things about this film, despite the ridiculous and uninteresting moral fable that it was. First, on the gender relations. According to a thoughtful comment by user akbarnali on IMDb's Laadla page, Judaai and Laadla were both notable for presenting the somewhat revolutionary concept of the anti-heroine to Hindi commercial cinema. We haven't seen Laadla yet, but Judaai's Kajal was certainly despicable: greedy, money-hungering and ruthless. As we said earlier, she was even abusive! The gender roles were interestingly reversed, in that the film was driven by Kaajal's (well, bad) choices. And even more interesting was the climax when, rather than the (male) hero and (male) villain deciding what happens to the heroine (as was typical back in the day), Raj's fate is debated by anti-heroine Kaajal and anti-villain Janhvi.


The most striking song. We wish we had a color-coded gaggle of back-up dancers to follow us around the park!

Which segues into the second interesting thing about Judaai: the anti-villain. We say that because Janhvi has all the trappings of a typical Hindi movie villain and/or vamp - dressing in provocative Westernized clothing, threateningly liberated and aggressively pursuing her man - and yet it is she who comes out as the strongest and, well, goodest. Raj, as we said, is pretty meek and ineffectual. Kaajal blunders along as she learns that a loving husband outweighs playing cards at the Rotary Club in terms of emotional fulfillment. But Janhvi, despite her "purchase", seemed to be the most sympathetic, easy-going and modest of the bunch. Even though we couldn't stand her motto - "He-llo!" - we had to admire her go-get-'em attitude and gutsy responsibility-taking. Go, girl!


A wooby moment for Anil, since it's one of the few times when one of the scary women is being nice to him.

The filmmaking was fine, with some cheeky commentary on wealth-fetish (always associated with the West) in the funny Las Vegas number (and check out all the bewildered Americans stopping to watch them film!). The performances were all decent. Sridevi, who we sometimes like and sometimes barely tolerate was in her barely tolerable mode. That said, her role was pretty awful. Urmila Matondkar was quite likable as the oddly empowered Janhvi - indeed, she came out on top. Our beloved Anil Kapoor had precious little to do - much like a typical heroine! - though we did note that he shares with our beloved Giancarlo Giannini that ability to sympathetically play the man who is tossed around by strong women. We think certain macho actors would shrink from a role which "unmanned" them, but Anil has taken a few such "submissive", unempowered roles - Beta being the most notable, Pukar the most recent - and we always appreciate it. Thanks, man. Break free of the box!

Mr. India (1987)

MR. INDIAAAAAAA!!!

Honestly, the sub genre of "zany comic book movie where Anil Kapoor plays scruffy common man superhero who ends up saving India from the evils of Amrish Puri" is SO FREAKING AWESOME. Okay, so there have only been two films in this genre so far: the highly fabulous Nayak: The Real Hero and the similarly fabulous Mr. India. But it's great! They should make more! Indeed, Filmi Girl recently noted that it's high time for Anil Kapoor to step into some sort of superhero role - and we agree. But don't give the man a cape, just give him his mustache, a big ol' heart and some wacky hijinx - and behold the awesomeness!

Mr. India, for the two or three of you who haven't heard of this film, is about a scruffy violin teacher, Arun (Anil Kapoor, in a strangely appealing mullet). Arun's just a regular guy with a heart of gold, and he runs a makeshift orphanage in his massive house by the sea. With his greasy cook, Calendar (Satish Kaushik), Arun struggles to make ends meet, but, alas, sometimes the kids go hungry for the day (also, none of them seem to go to school). One day, after threats of eviction, Arun and Calendar hit on the idea of subletting the attic flat to perky journalist Seema (Sridevi). The only problem is - Seema hates kids! Hilarity ensues.


We need a chair like that. IN THE PALM OF OUR HAND, MWA HA HA!

Running tangential to this (relatively) normal plot, there is the evil Mogambo (an amazing Amrish Puri) who, with his evil henchmen - Daagat (Sharat Saxena), Teja (Ajit Vachani), Captain Zorro (Gur Bachchan Singh), Dr. Fu Manchu (?!), and evil English Mr. Wolcott (Bob Christo) - plans to destabilize, subjugate and destroy India. "MOGAMBO... KHUSH HUA!!!" ("MOGAMBO... IS HAPPY!") Mogambo often bellows in that wonderfully bug-eyed way. But as happy as Mogambo is, the job is still not complete: he needs the legendary Invisibility Formula™! And who should have developed this formula but... Arun's late father! When family friend, Professor Sinha (an unexpected cameo by Ashok Kumar!), manages to deliver to Arun the Invisibility Bracelet™ - well, you can just imagine the wackiness which goes down. Arun, now armed with invisibility and a new name, Mr. India (!), becomes a champion of justice and a major thorn in Mogambo's side. Much, much hilarity ensues.

Now, the reason we group Mr. India with the later Nayak is because both films are superficially comic books stuffed full of ridiculous moments, yet within both pumps a real, earnest heart. They don't tease or undermine the very real problems that the hero has to tackle (even if, okay, those evils are embodied by the cackling Amrish Puri, who Western audiences will recognize from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom). Corruption, adulterated foods, poverty, drug smuggling - this stuff really happens, and the filmmakers know it. And even on a micro level, the emotions are played straight. Robots or pot people might be lumbering by, but the emotional core is genuine. For example, in both films, tragedy strikes and the hero loses someone close to him. And, in both films, thanks partly to Anil Kapoor's awesomeness and partly to the director's wisdom, the scene is played straight - it just really is sad. In fact, we're a little embarrassed to admit this, but we actually cried when it happened in this film.

Yes, world, we cried during Mr. India.

Moving speedily along, it's a little difficult to review a film that's already a cult classic - how can we say anything new? Instead, we can point you in the direction of BollyBob's, Carla's, or Prof. Lutgendorf's review. They've covered everything. So what can the PPCC offer?

Uh...

Well, not much! You just have to watch this film. If you don't find yourself smiling like an idiot through most of it, you've probably got some adulterated heart of STONE. Some of the major selling points are:

1. The orphans!


Awww, group cuddle!

The PPCC has a not-so-secret fantasy to one day have a brood of children, just a big ol' pile of them, pound puppy style. Lucky Mr. India's already got that! And goodness, these children are wonderful. We especially loved the ones who breakdance throughout the entire film (they're electric!) and the slightly nerdy sidekick.

2. The meltdowns!


Anil Kapoor; what does the scouter say about his power level? It's OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Although we joined the Anil Kapoor Fanclub because of a relatively subdued scene (and no, we will never stop finding opportunities to plug that song), we've gotta say he works his mustachioed magic most in the moments when he just flips out like some demented nutcase.

3. The filmmaking!

Hey, Shekhar Kapur's Shekhar Kapur. This is the guy who made Masoom, Elizabeth, Elizabeth: The Golden Age and The Four Feathers. This film may have been lo-fi, but the filmmaking technique is so smart that - man, we totally lapped it up! You'd think a sci-fi fantasy with low production values would only be worth a snicker, yet so many of the scenes - like the one where Arun discovers the invisibility bracelet for the first time - were exhiliratingly zany.

4. The songs!


From the fun medley.

Ahhh. The epic Laxmikant-Pyarelal medley which Prof. Lutgendorf rightly calls an "operatic duel" was faaab, as was Sridevi's fantastic comic timing in the Miss Hawa Hawaii song (or, as the subtitles call her, "Miss Breeze Breezy"), or the cheekily horny Kate Nahi Kat Te Yeh Raat (complete with an invisible roll in the hay and excellent Drums of Eroticism - similar to the Sitars of Sex).

5. The ass-kicking heroine!


We love it when Sridevi goes, "Heeeeee!" in that airy falsetto.

Sridevi had to work pretty hard to earn back our affections after Lamhe, but she succeeded - what with her impromptu Charlie Chaplin impression, eating the fruit from her own fruit hat, or just generally kicking various henchmen's butts, she was great!

5. The sequel?!

Is it true, internet?! But without Shekhar Kapur directing?! Well, either way, we're obviously going to be there, first show, first night.

The PPCC... KHUSH HUE!