Bol Harry Bol, Rock N Roll. Review on Qayamat

At the outset, there’s no way I can avoid letting you know how compassionately my heart goes out to all fellow-beings who endured this ‘recycled and binned’ flick. No sooner were we on our way back home after the movie, my bespectacled companion started puking varied combinations of the choicest of vituperations, all infallibly aimed at me. Anger was oozing out in a palpable wave through his arms and legs. And why not? “Brother forgive me, for I do not know what I do”, I pleaded. Soon we parted, he went to his house and I to mine. Having settled in my cozy bed, I soon found myself murmuring a lullaby that went, ‘Rock Rock Rock, Harry Baba Rock’… and the lullaby rocked me to sleep.

Qayamat, according to me is compulsively devoid of any inventiveness or character and is an ersatz remake of Michael Bay’s ‘The Rock’. Not that I am against facsimiles, but all I have to say to some of our directors is, when you can’t, why attempt? Here’s the story, nonetheless.

Ali (Arbaaz Khan), Abbas (Sanjay Kapoor) and Laila (Isha Koppikar) are a terrorist trio who threaten to menacingly contaminate water resources in Mumbai with missiles loaded with virus. Ali and Abbas flaunt leather overcoats, come hell or high water and share the bimbette Laila in common. If Ali has his head on Laila’s lap, Abbas rests his head on her shoulder. To share is to care and to care is to share! The Khallas-babe ravishingly exposes her already-exposed thighs during a disarmament check.The goon’s baton man who inspects the trio for any concealed weapons under their clothes appears to be conducting more of a quality check on Laila’s skin and body care. The trio apparently is backed by the Pakistani ISI chief, whose only job in life is to speak on the phone while grinning from the southwest corner of his mouth. He feasts on and relishes a J&K-contoured piece sliced from a humara Hindustan-shaped cake. Terror-masters Ali and Abbas plan and turn hostage takers, holding 213 picnickers at the Elphinstone Jail situated on an island near Mumbai (Is there one?). Their demand, Rs.1500 crores and a ship to escape to cake wala’s country.

In the mean time, Rahul (Ashish Chowdhry) who is a scientist, undertakes the gargantuan task of formulating an anti-virus, should there be a chemical attack. Though he doesn’t give the impression of being a scientist by any stretch of imagination, he mulls over a set of virus balls placed in a hexadiagonal manner in a beaker. Reminded me of school days when the science teacher would teach us “Atomic Structure” using props borrowed from a local toy shop. How dearly I miss Rutherford’s and Bohr’s models of the structure of atom. Anyway, did I tell you that the virus balls look like ping pong balls stuffed with green jelly? Pink ping pong balls would have been a better idea, I think. It rhymes and sounds good. Rutherford’s colleague Gopal (Chunky Pandey) smuggles the ping pong balls out of the lab only to hand them over to the terrorist trio. Rutherford’s skimpily robed girlfriend Sheetal (Riya Sen) is also one of the hostages at Elphinstone Jail and has been shown to be the lead manager+Godmother of all the prisoner picnickers. Earlier at home, she is vying for busy Rutherford’s attention, spends three-fourth of a song in a bubble bath tub and the remaining one fourth on a bed, while being scantily dressed.

Honesty-personified CBI cop Akram Sheikh (Suniel Shetty) swears to take the crappy Ali and Abbas to task. Cake wala ISI makes an international long distance call to him directly on his cell phone and our cop responds by delivering shaayari-spiced monologues in a Continental Schezwan Idli Dosa accent. Akram finally zeroes in on a plan to free the hostages from no man’s island. His plan just cannot progress without the help of a former convict, Rachit (Ajay Devgan). Rachit, during their budding criminal days was a 36.66% shareholder in all crimes that the gang comprising him, Ali, Abbas and Ayub Khan were involved in. Check out the Mission Impossible robbery executed by Rachit. As the flashback progresses, Mission Impossible is arrested and is expelled out of Mumbai to Elphinstone Jail. Sapna (Neha Dhupia) is the love of his life and circumstances take them out of each other’s lives. Thoughts of taking revenge on his traitor buddies make Mission Impossible escape through a sea-route from the island jail. And he happens to be the only one who knows this route. He is brought to Mumbai, given a clean haircut and a shave and is made a part of Akram’s mammoth plan.

So then, the rescue-operators embark upon their secret mission led by Continental Schezwan Idli Dosa Akram, with Mission Impossible, Rutherford and a coupla commandoes towing in line. The entire operation is being monitored from a control room that looks like a cricket commentator’s box, enlarged though. The Chief minister keeps commenting incessantly as if he were Harsha Bhogle. The rescue operators are fully equipped with accouterments including a camera near their chest badges. Bingo! They make it to the island. Dhishum dhishum galore. Schezwan Idli is killed and so are all the commandoes. Rutherford and Mission Impossible are the remnants of the feasting done by Ali Abbas and Co. Ali and Abbas give an ultimatum. Mission Impossible is still behaving like the laggard he had transformed into ever since Sapna was ejected out of his life. He is the hero and understandably he is the one who would be the saviour. Control room commotion! Control room drama! Sapna appears and speaks over one of the gizmos to Mission Impossible. Yahoo!! Our man springs into action and with the help of the incorrigible Rutherford saves a city supposedly under threat. Story Khatam.

Ajay Devgan is wasted and wastes himself by choosing to do this movie. Ashish Chowdhry has been cast is a role not meant for him and seems like a hobbledehoy all through, though he has caliber. Sanjay Kapoor and Arbaaz Khan should call it quits and actually settle down on some remote island. Suniel Shetty is strictly ok and the patriotic dialogues give him the much-needed push. Neha Dhupia just cannot act. In most scenes she looks like a dehydrated python. Riya Sen looks school-girlish and needs to enroll at Roshan Taneja’s Academy. Chunky Pandey makes a comeback and goes back. Isha Koppikar still has a lot to travel. The talented likes of Kulbhushan Kharbanda, Anjan Srivastava and Govind Namdeo do not get well-etched characters.

I do not feel like crediting the story and screenplay taskers with much. So I just let that pass. Cinematography by Sanjay F Gupta is awesome and deserves applause. Editing - flaws galore. Nitish’s Roy’s art direction is class A, especially the underground tunnel set. Nadeem Sharavan’s music is bearable to the extent that you may like to hum a few songs for a week or two and then return back to Pink Floyd. Harry Baweja’s direction doesn’t give you much of a chance to shower him with accolades. All the directional lacunae sprout up naked.

In short, Qayamat is a movie that schleps all along and turns out to be like the viduous mansion that one dreads. I apologized to my friend earlier on and now it is but imperative that I submit an apology to the producers. IDBI forgive Harry Baweja, he does not know what he does. Have mercy, while we all party this weekend. Lets “Rock” !

© Milind Gadagkar 2003