Of the retired and for the Retired. Review on Happy New Year

Happy New Year. A movie made on a grand scale- of mediocrity.

Opulent in effect, garish of color, true to a proven Bollywood formula, cautious in its business model, devoid of inspiration, wont of creative fire, safe in its tunes, reminiscent of a long forgotten rivalry between forgettable choreographers, and finally, blinding of glitter, this movie is full of anybody who’s a nobody in Bollywood, except perhaps Shakti Kapoor, who I guess would have been too busy doing another nondescript production.

Farah, the producer of such remarkable stuff as Main Hoon Naa and Om Shanti Om, repeats her mind-numbing commitment to retired or retiring stars, which she showed in Shiri Firhad Ki Nikal Pari… without taking into account audience preference for something younger, glitzier, and less horrifically made up, and badly strung up on wires as Sharukh Khan, who famously said on Kapil Sharma’s recent comedy show- when Kapil compared his six-packs to Sonu Sood’s eight- ‘Ullu Ka Paththa sala kuch bhi banae- hero to main hi rahoonga!’

Well I don’t like such unfair and cruel arrogance and neither does Sonu, who, despite the name, (Who thinks of these names? Are they even real?), deserves a modicum of self- respect and better treatment in public at the hands of seniors.

The plot=

Formula 1(Dance Show)+

Formula 2(A grand theft- courtesy the success of Dhooms)+

Formula 3(Patriotism- aka Chakk De India)+

Formula 4(make mockery of competition- aka the Manoj Kumar episodes of Om Shanti Om)+

Formula 5(Licking the current society’s darling politician- N Modi and Swachch Bharat Abhiyaan)

And finally Formula 6: Make the movie as long as possible; give the calculating Indian audience who typically asks – ‘yeh kitna deti hai?’- As much bang for the buck as possible, by giving them a super long movie- this one runs for a fidgety 3’ 15”!(Remember Sholay?)

Sharukh is a man looking to avenge the wrongful accusation of his father, who made safes, for a theft that Jackie Shroff committed. Guess for what- Insurance claims!

He, with surprising ease; since the punishment for theft in Dubai is severing of the hands, puts together a team of a safecracker, a hacker, an explosive expert, and a dancer and plans not only to win the world dance competition at the age of 50, but also the 300 crores worth of diamonds for which Jackie will conveniently get blamed and Sharukh will get his rightful retribution.

It’s clear that someone who worships the Khan has made the movie. No wonder- he even worships himself! So there must be something! I know that there is something called artistic freedom and poetic justice. But so much of convenience- is it permitted in real life to be believable? A temporary suspension of disbelief is allowed to all readers or purveyors of art, but a prolonged self-anesthesia for 3 ½ hours? No way!

I have so many questions- one amongst them that lingers most- is why Sonu is deaf sometimes, but at most other times is a connoisseur of the faintest sounds that a screechy radio produces, or of the fine beats of music to which he has to dance to?

But in the theatre the audience clapped, the women giggled and little kids danced in their mother’s laps. So don’t take my word for it and try it out for yourself- is what I say! Who am I to judge what the audience want and get?