SOORAJ BARJATYA: Music and Melodrama

More involved in distribution than film-making, Sooraj Barjatya has directed only a small handful of films – but several of them were such huge hits that he’s effectively made his mark on Hindi cinema as a director – specifically as a director of a specific type of film – the sentimental, schmaltzy, melodramatic ‘family drama’. Hallmarks of his movies include family celebrations (usually with gorgeous, heart-warming songs) and inter-generational conflict (typically resolved thanks to love, understanding and forgiveness – all done the desi way, of course).

Barjatya’s films always reflect – and even champion – so-called ‘traditional family values’ – values which are often decried as both unrealistic and anachronistic. Several of his films feature ‘arranged marriages’ between characters who, although they have no objections to spending the rest of their lives together, haven’t exactly had the opportunity to make such a life-changing decision with a person of their own choosing, after a reasonable period of discovery. The films also tend to endorse a model of marriage where the girl seems to set aside any aspirations or ambitions she may have had, in order to become the idealized ‘biwi aur bahu’.

In addition, Barjatya often seems to adopt the simplistic view (often seen in Bollywood – and also, by the way, in Nollywood (Nigerian cinema)) that 'Western' values are completely unwholesome and undesirable and worse, are some sort of raging virus out to destroy everything that the Indian family holds dear. This theme pops up in all the Barjatya films I’ve seen – the worst characters are those that try to look and speak ‘Western’ – they are immoral, greedy and uncaring about the needs of others.

I’m not going to weigh in on the debate as to whether there’s anything harmful or misleading in the ‘family values’ model adopted by Barjatya in his films – I think that everyone has a view on that. I will only say that as a lover of Bollywood films, I’ve learned to sift through the messages in various movies and to extract what (if anything) is of value to me, discarding whatever goes against my own worldview. And I will also say that my beliefs, I like to think, are pretty embracing of diverse views, and I sometimes (but by no means always) find that there’s value to be extracted from ideas that may at first go against the grain. And that’s a lot to say from someone who had nothing to say!

Before talking about the Barjatya films I’ve seen so far, I’ll just summarise what I love and (don’t love) about them. I like a formula that works, and his formula works for me – catchy, melodious music + beautiful, charming actors + some conflict + all-conquering love healing all wounds. I like it – it’s simple and it’s fun (for the most part). Let’s break it down.

The music: Barjatya uses music (and lots and lots of it) really well to heighten emotion and tug at those heart-strings, awakening feelings of nostalgia and tenderness. The melodies (usually provided by Raam Laxman) are simple, catchy (really infectious, actually), memorable and even sometimes shamelessly plagiarized (as in ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’). The song picturisations are usually really beautifully done, in my opinion. Schmaltzy and over-the-top as it sometimes is, I think the music is my favourite thing about his films.

The actors: Like every director, Barjatya has his ‘MVPs’ – actors that understand how to effectively capture and demonstrate the family-friendly messages infused through each film. Alok Nath, who’s almost a genius at melodrama in my view, has to be the most valuable Barjatya MVP, but there’s also (among others) the charming Reema Lagoo, Anupam Kher (whom I love), Ajit Vachani, Mohnish Behl, and his favourite ‘hero’, Mr. Salman Khan.

Mr. Barjatya is a bit more adventurous when casting young females, and he sure goes for the gorgeous: Bhagyashree – she of the lamentably underachieved career (‘Maine Pyar Kiya’), Madhuri Dixit and Renuka Shahane (‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun…!’ – Renuka is another whom I wish had done more), Kareena Kapoor (‘Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon’), Amrita Rao (‘Vivah’), Karisma Kapoor, Tabu and Sonali Bendre (‘Hum Saath Saath Hain’). Barjatya picks beautiful people, and that makes for many beautiful picturisations – from Madhuri and Salman in ‘Joote Dedo’ to Shahid and Amrita in ‘Hamari Shaadi’, to Tabu, Sonali and Lolo in ‘Maiyya Yashoda’, to Bhagyashree and Salman in the Antakshari medley from ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’.

Speaking of great picturisations, India itself is, I believe, a character in Barjatya’s films – the rich culture, the family traditions, the colourful clothing, and the scenic locations spread across the country. All his films that I’ve seen include scenes shot in the beautiful, picturesque, often rural areas of India. That’s another thing I love.

Barjatya is also fond of animals, it seems – from Tuffy the dog in HAHK, who ends up playing a pivotal role in the film, to Handsome the dove in ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’. And he has a distinct affection for the the name 'Prem'!

One thing I do like about Barjatya’s characters is that they all have distinct and different personalities – some are feisty and forward, others shy and reserved; some are plain-speaking, others diplomatic geniuses; some are bubbling with life, others inwardly seething. They are definitely not the most nuanced and complex characters (although I think some of them end up having a lot more substance than you’d at first think), in fact they are usually very broadly-sketched, but I guess I can forgive that within the context of what he does.

The conflict: There is always one – whether created by human weakness (as in ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’) or by bad advice from creepy friends (as in ‘Hum Saath Saath Hain’) or by tragic accident (as in ‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun…!’ and ‘Vivah’). As with real life, the conflict usually comes straight out of nowhere. Unfortunately, sometimes the conflict also comes off a bit contrived and/or unrealistic… but oh well.

All-conquering love: Ah… the all-consuming power of love, be it romantic or filial, able to straighten out every difficulty, obliterate every complication, assuage every human yearning, make people become exactly who the people they love want them to be…. Except, this works only in the movies! It makes for some nice, cathartic emotional resolutions though. It would be nice, I suppose, if a nod was made to the fact that things are never so nicely tied up in real life – but then again, isn’t that why we’ve got the movies?

Now to the Barjatya films I’ve seen so far.

‘HUM AAPKE HAIN KOUN…!’: I adore this film. It’s my favourite of the films Sooraj Barjatya has directed and just has a very special place in my heart. I wrote just about everything I have to say about it here.

‘HUM SAATH SAATH HAIN’: I’m one of the few people that actually really liked this film. Yes, it’s very saccharine in many places, but I think it had its heart in the right place. I love the songs from it and enjoyed the performances as well as the issues it tackled. I’ve written about it here and here.

‘MAINE PYAR KIYA’: This is a very sweet, charming film about young love. It’s very ‘typical’ of Bollywood romance – rich boy, poor girl, opposition from parents… but it’s very nicely done. A young, likeable Salman Khan and the adorable Bhagyashree play Prem and Suman, two young people who despite their differing backgrounds, find friendship, and later love, when Suman comes to live at Prem’s house (Suman’s father and Prem’s father are old friends). These two made SUCH a lovely couple, and the film-makers captured some really memorable moments with them.

Unfortunately, as the bond between Prem and Suman develops, the bond between their parents is destroyed by Prem’s father’s pride and elitism. Suman’s father’s pride is awakened in turn, and Prem must then convince him (as the Biblical Jacob had to convince Laban) that he is deserving of his daughter. Throw in the attempts of the greedy, Westernised Ranjeet, Seema and Jeevan (played by Ajit Vachani, Pervin Dastur and Mohnish Behl) to snatch away all that Prem and his family hold dear, and our young hero faces quite a challenge. Will he succeed? Anyone who knows Bollywood knows the answer to this question, but it’s still fun to watch.

The best thing about this film for me was the performances – especially by Bhagyashree and Salman, although they’re nicely backed by the rest of the cast. I do so wish Bhagyashree had built on the success of this film – I think she could have had a great career. The songs in this film are also really sweet (‘Dil Deewana’ is pretty, ‘Tum Ladki Ho’ is fun, and ‘Kabutar ja’ is delightful – I enjoyed the rest as well). Some aspects of the script could I could have done without, such as the strangely intense relationship between our lovers’ fathers (especially on Alok Nath’s side) – very amusing, but weird. Also could have done without the big fight at the end. But all told, this is a really, really sweet and charming love story.

‘VIVAH’: Sooraj Barjatya’s most recent hit, a charming courtship story starring Shahid Kapoor and Amrita Rao helped Barjatya regain the credibility he had lost with HSSH and ‘Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon’ (which I haven’t seen). It also sparked criticism from many who felt that its themes were obsolete and its female protagonist annoyingly submissive. While I don’t agree with all of it (I particularly disagree with the notion that Poonam’s shyness automatically makes her a mindless coward), I do have problems with some aspects of this film’s storyline.

Shahid Kapoor plays the sweet, sincere Prem, a young man whose father (played by Anupam Kher) apparently gets up one day, and out of nowhere, decides it’s time for his son to get married. Prem has his doubts, but like a good, obedient son, he meekly goes with his father to meet the selected prospective wife, the lovely Poonam (played by Amrita Rao). After only one brief and one-sided conversation, during which Poonam seems to be afraid to look up at Prem's face, she agrees to marry Prem. There is no discussion about her goals, desires and aspirations until after the decision is made. And even then, the ‘discussion’ (such as it is), almost explicitly subjugates her own future accomplishments to the chief role she will soon have as supportive wife and dutiful daughter-in-law. And through it all, Poonam is quietly acquiescent - and somehow it's a little difficult to tell whether it's because she's doing what's expected of her or because she's doing what she wants.

After this beginning (which, you can probably tell, I found pretty problematic), the bulk of the film is taken up by Poonam and Prem’s sweet season of courtship. I have to say I was won over at this point by the warmth and sincerity of the characters and the way they slowly establish friendship and intimacy.

I thought Shahid and Amrita had great chemistry, and I liked their characters’ mutual respect and the fact that neither was ‘fronting’ - Prem and Poonam were keeping it real. Their relationship takes time to mature, and both of them have to make an effort - I liked that as well. And it was immensely gratifying to eventually discover that Poonam, despite initial appearances, does, wonder of wonders, actually have a pretty resilient backbone and something even more endearing – maturity and wisdom along with a sense of fun.

I really, really enjoyed ‘Vivah’ – I loved the songs, I loved the romance, I loved the way in which it all unfolded, and I just thought that it was really lovely and sweet. But there is no doubt that unfortunately, I also found some aspects of it unacceptable.

I think that this ambivalent note is a really good one on which to end this post. While I like the fact that Barjatya’s films put family values front and centre, while I love the music and the emotion, and the beautiful people and scenery, and the whole formula; there definitely are aspects to that formula that can be difficult.

But I think that I am probably not the only movie buff that comes to this point with a number of films (whether they be products of Bollywood, Hollywood, or Nollywood) and has learnt to deal with it – extracting, as I said earlier, what works for me and pushing aside what doesn’t (of course, there are times when there’s nothing to extract because none of it goes down well).

I am of course conscious that some will use messages in films to continue to legitimate and reiterate (even if only to themselves) ceretain inequitable viewpoints – and even worse, that some more impressionable viewers may possibly find their viewpoints shaped by what they see on their screens… and of course at this point the whole ‘life imitates art imitates life’ circular argument rears its ugly but compelling head.

Phew… I went a bit deeper with this than I planned… funny how I returned to the same point I tried to avoid at the beginning of this piece. Time to summarise. I remain a fan of Barjatya’s work as a director – and even if he never directs another film, I will always be glad he made the films he did (especially HAHK – I love it so much).

LESSONS AND QUESTIONS FROM 'HUM AAPKE HAIN KOUN...!'

Let's take a seat and listen to Madhuri as she teaches us a thing or two, shall we?

This is one post that’s been in the works for a very long time… it’s the follow-up to my ‘wedding fever’ post, and it’s all about the lessons I learned, and questions I came up with, after my most recent viewing of ‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun…!’ (HAHK)

There may be a few people reading this who haven’t seen HAHK, a MASSIVE Bollywood hit movie from the 90s, so for their benefit, here’s a little bit of background info. Directed by Sooraj Barjatya, the music from HAHK was provided by Raam-Laxman. The songs from the film were even more successful than the movie itself – ‘Joote Dedo (Paise Lelo)’, ‘Wah Wah Ramji’, ‘Dhiktana Dhiktana’, ‘Didi Tera Dewar Deewana’, ‘Lo Chali Main’, ‘Chocolate Limejuice’, ‘Maaye Ni Maaye’, ‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun’, ‘Samdhi Samdhan’, ‘Yeh Mausam Ka Jaadu’, ‘Pehla Pehla Pyar Hai’… some of the songs are quiet and romantic, most of them are joyful and playful… and I personally think they are all lovely. And as Alan has noted, one of the really charming things about the music of HAHK is the way the melodies from the songs are intertwined and woven into each other throughout the film.




HAHK stars an effervescent Madhuri Dixit (as Nisha) at the height of her powers, and a younger, actually quite endearing Salman Khan (as Prem). Nisha and Prem are two fun-loving young people who are thrown together when their respective siblings, Nisha’s didi Pooja and Prem’s bhaiyya Rajesh, (played by Renuka Shahane and Mohnish Behl) marry each other. From the engagement ceremony, to the wedding ceremonies (lavishly depicted), to a number of family events thereafter, the film is a veritable deluge of sweet, celebratory songs, and the songs actually tell a great deal of the story. The story itself is simple and can actually be summarised in 5 sentences:



1. Pooja and Rajesh’s families decide to get them married.
2. Pooja and Rajesh get married and live happily together with Rajesh’s family.
3. Nisha comes to visit, and she and Prem fall in love.
4. Uh oh – whip out your hanky, because things get very sad.
5. But everything comes out right in the end… thanks to Tuffy the dog.

HAHK is definitely one of my favourite Hindi movies – if I had a top 20 it would be somewhere on the list. I never tire of the beautiful songs, and I find the characters utterly and irresistibly charming. I recognise members of my family in the fictitious personae of the film, and I immediately warm to the overt emotion – the spirit and heart that the film is unabashedly dipped in. The sweetness of the film, excessive as it is, never seems to cloy for me (I have to say I could do with less of Tuffy the dog though)….

However, there are many who would disagree with me. HAHK is often decried as extremely cheesy, sickeningly saccharine, plotless and dumb, strictly for the dead of brain…. On that last point though, when I watched HAHK recently for the umpteenth time, I came away with some lessons, observations and questions that I immediately thought it would be fun and interesting to write about…

1. Love means sacrifice: I’ll start with one of the more serious lessons of the film, and one that I actually agree with. The overwhelming message of HAHK is that when you truly love someone, you’re ready to make sacrifices for them – to even deprive yourself of your own happiness and satisfaction. Kailashnath (played by Alok Nath) is Prem and Rajesh’s old bachelor uncle, who has raised them as his own sons after their parents’ untimely death. We are informed early in the film that at least part of the reason why Kailashnath is an old bachelor is his commitment to his two nephews – i.e. he has given up the dream of marriage and children for his boys, and is therefore left to sing harmless love-songs to married women (but more on that later).

Our lead characters, Prem and Nisha, make the ultimate sacrifice later in the film, a sacrifice that appears to be partly motivated by misplaced but understandable guilt… luckily for them, Tuffy comes to the rescue…. Note: it’s always a good idea to have a wonder dog around when you decide to sacrifice your happiness on the altar of filial love.

Because love, in the world of HAHK, means never having to say ‘Me! Me! Me!’; the character of Aunty (played by Bindu, in an OTT but very effective comic performance), is vilified for being utterly self-seeking and unconcerned with the needs of others.

Like I said, I agree with this message, although perhaps not with the exaggerated version of it that’s presented in the film. But its exaggeration for dramatic effect doesn’t detract from its veracity. I definitely think it’s a lesson we all need to learn and be reminded of from time to time.

2. A woman’s place is in the kitchen: Now this one pops up in lots of Hindi movies, as it does in real life. This is one ‘lesson’ that irritates me and totally rubs me the wrong way. Pooja’s home-making abilities are richly praised in this film (there is the obligatory scene with her slaving away for the family at the stove), and her mother (played by Reema Lagoo) urges younger daughter Nisha to spend time with Pooja so that she can learn how to run her own home efficiently when the time comes. Just in case you missed it, the message is re-emphasized when the spoilt Rita (played really well by Sahila Chaddha) uses salt to make a sweet (instead of sugar) – earning her lots of censure and abuse from Aunty. Yawwwnn…

It’s not all bad, though – HAHK is actually a bit progressive in this regard, because Pooja does get time off from kitchen duty to play a rollicking game of cricket – one in which she thrashes her hubby’s team. More significantly, the character of Professor Siddharth Chaudhary (played by Anupam Kher) loves the kitchen! He even wears a cute apron that proclaims him ‘The World’s Greatest Cook’…

3. Weddings are a good time/place to fall in love: You hear this bandied about quite a bit in the ‘real world’ as well – that weddings are a good opportunity to meet potential romantic partners… Hmmm, I don’t really agree, especially since I’ve been to a gazillion weddings and have never met anyone even remotely ‘potential’ at one…. I’m also not sure this really fits in where HAHK is concerned – Prem and Nisha are definitely attracted to each other during the period of Rajesh and Pooja’s wedding; and there is a lot of teasing and flirting, but they don’t actually fall in love until after the wedding, during Nisha’s visit to Prem’s home.

I really like this about HAHK, by the way – you can actually see the growth and development of a relationship between these two. At first, there’s curiosity – you can tell they’re a bit intrigued by each other, then there’s lots of teasing, baiting, back-and-forth repartee, and flirtation (along with physical chemistry), then a little stroppiness here and there… then finally there’s a deeper understanding between them as they really get to know each and to understand what they mean to each other (hence ‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun…!’) So the deep love they share by the end of the film doesn’t just spring up out of nowhere as it typically does in Bollywood – you can see it evolve as the characters evolve, and I really like that.

Another thing I really like is that in this film, unlike many Bollywood movies, opposites do not attract… it’s more ‘birds of a feather’… so the mischievous, extroverted and lively Nisha and Prem hook up, while the reserved and subdued Pooja and Rajesh end up together. I love this – in so many Bollywood films, it’s a hook-up between the lively, bold, boisterous guy and the quiet, shy, eyes-always-downcast girl. Here Nisha gives Prem as good as she gets, and it’s clear that he respects her for it and would have her no other way.

4. Treating people badly makes you scary: It really, really does – I mean, just look at Aunty! 'Nuff said.

Ok, so I have no screencaps of Chacha (can you blame me?), but there she is right at the back of this publicity pic, in orange

5. There are some perks to being a confirmed bachelor: Kailashnath actually gets to sing a sweet love-song to Mrs. Choudhury, paying tribute to the evergreen beauty and grace of his old college-mate. Would Professor Choudhury (and the rest of the crowd) had sat by, smiling benignly and playing musical instruments, if Kailashnath had been married? No way… that would’ve been the height of disrespect, to the wife (or wives), to the professor, to the gathering. Here though, it’s sweet and charming – and completely harmless. Random thought: I guess the fact that it’s considered harmless could make it easier for the bachelor to take things further without arousing suspicion – like, ‘you all think I am too old and crusty to tempt a woman? Ha – now watch me run away with your wife!’ (And watch me run away with this silly random train of thought).

6. Go on and kiss that frog: (remember ‘Kiss the Girl’ from ‘The Little Mermaid’? That was so fun – but I digress). Yes, kiss that frog because he might just turn into the handsome prince you’ve been waiting for (or not – but you’ll never know unless you try…)

Hmm… I’m a bit leery about this one – while I agree that the best things sometimes come in the most unlikely packages, there is no doubt in my mind that under certain circumstances, the frog must never ever be kissed. Luckily for Rita though, it works out for her. The earnest, goofy and actually quite sweet Bhola Prasad falls in love with her at first sight, as Dushyanta did with Shakuntala (in Hindu mythology). In fact, every time Bhola sees Rita, he actually sees Shakuntala. Rita, on the other hand, is irritated by Bhola’s attentions – until one fateful day, when she in turn sees him as Dushyanta – and falls madly in love too. Aww… who knows why she decided to kiss this frog? Perhaps she finally saw the goodness and sincerity of his heart (one scene between them lends credence to this theory), maybe she just got sick of sitting around and watching other people hook up… whatever it was, I thought this was a funny and quite cute little sub-plot.

7. There is nothing, absolutely nothing more fun than laughing, dancing, joking and sharing special moments with your family: So true. And HAHK is big (no, HUGE) on this.

8. There is a time to be born and a time to die: Birth and death are daily realities of our lives – as one lamp is lit, another is extinguished. Anyone who’s seen the film will get this. This, of course, is very true… and it’s directly linked to the next point, which is also my first question:

9. Why do the best people die young? Why oh why? HAHK doesn’t really answer this age-old question, but it does refer to the bit about some people being like angels who bless us with their presence in this world for a while, do lots of wonderful things for us, and then they have to go…. Sad stuff, huh?

10. On a cheerier note, who am I to you? The big question of the movie – so big that it deserves an ellipsis and exclamation point for emphasis (see the title of the movie), but what on earth is the answer? I have no idea – is it ‘the one I love’, ‘my love’, ‘my everything’, ‘my world’, ‘my life’ (I know, how sappy can I get? I can feel myself turning into a giant cheeseball) or what? Some subtitling in the songs (especially the title song) would’ve helped, I think… or maybe the songs don’t answer the question either. Or maybe it’s a rhetorical question… I don’t really care about this, to be honest….

11. This most recent viewing of HAHK did clear up one big mystery for me, though. I finally understand why I am so in love with Bette Davis’s eyes. I mean, yes they are the most beautiful, expressive pair of eyes ever, and will always be (to me), but the intensity of my love for them has always been a bit of a mystery... now I totally get it – it’s the black-and-white! Watch Salman’s big ol’ eyes in the opening credits of HAHK and tell me if you don’t think they’re absolutely gorgeous (which they are - despite my many other criticisms of the man, I’ll admit that he does have truly lovely eyes). So monochrome definitely enhances the eyes… why am I only just getting this? Thank you HAHK, thank you…

Ok... so this photo doesn't quite illustrate my point... will try to find something better.

So who says that HAHK has nothing to offer anyone but the brain-dead, nothing to stimulate that grey matter? I obviously take a contrary view… while some of my lessons might be frivolous and silly (and what’s life without some silliness and frivolity anyway?) there is definitely some stuff in there worth mulling over…. This was fun!!

Up next… I’ll be bringing in September with a return to my first love – the next post is all about ‘Apne’… the Deol-fest.

‘TAAL’, ‘CHORI CHORI’ AND ‘PYAR KIYA TO DARNA KYA’

There’s been quite a bit of activity in my Bollyworld of recent. I recently watched 3 movies, to be discussed in the lengthy post below. I also saw ‘Just Married’ at the cinema yesterday, to be discussed in my Esha Deol post ('Dharam’s Children' Pt.III), whenever I get round to it. And I have quite a few movies to look forward to in the coming weeks. Yum.

‘TAAL’

I watched ‘Taal’ over the weekend. I like when you can tell that a writer/director has made a film close to his/her heart. With ‘Taal’, Subhash Ghai set out to make a modern story with a strong musical element. The musical element, provided by A. R. Rahman, is indeed strong, with a soundtrack that’s quite varied and a bit adventurous. While I didn’t like every single song, I enjoyed most of them, especially ‘Ishq Bina Kya’, sung with beautiful, emotional nuance by Alka Yagnik. I wasn’t surprised to discover that A. R. Rahman and Alka both won Filmfare awards for this film. In line with his focus on the power of music, Subhash Ghai also gives himself a cute little cameo singing along to his Walkman in a market.

As far as the story goes, it’s nothing ground-breaking. A rich boy named Manav (played by Akshaye Khanna), on a visit to Chamba, falls for a lowly village damsel named Manasi (or Mansi, played by Aishwarya Rai), and she (after a little resistance) returns his affections. When Manasi’s father, a renowned folk singer named Tarababu (played by Alok Nath) finds out, he tries to bring the affair into the open (and to forge suitable family ties) by visiting Manav’s father (played by Amrish Puri), who has lately become a friend. Things don’t go very well during the visit, and Manasi and her father are despondent until they meet a famous pop singer named Vikrant (played by Anil Kapoor), who gives Manasi a shot at fame and a new lease of life. But Manav still wants Manasi, and isn’t prepared to take ‘no’ for an answer (in fact his unshakeable confidence that he will get his Manasi back is a bit weird and annoying).

While the story is nothing new, I like the way it was told. I enjoyed the beautiful scenic shots in Chamba, and I thought the song picturisations were very lovely. As mentioned above, the music is charming, and some of the choreography is very good (some of it is dodgy). While the film as a whole is a bit uneven, with some really good scenes and some bits that were just out of place, I enjoyed the way it was wrapped up. I liked the emphasis on relationships, and the fact that all the relationships in the film got some attention and resolution, from the obvious (Manav and Manasi, Tarababu and Manav’s father), to those that would typically be considered less significant (Manav and Vikrant, Manav and his father, Manasi and Vikrant).

I thought the performances were quite strong. Akshaye Khanna hands in an understated and quite mature performance, and although I found his character very annoying in some parts of the film, I think Akshaye handled him quite well. He lets you see the courage, strength and confidence of the character, although some of that I felt was a bit questionable. He is also quite sweet in some scenes, especially with Ash.

I loved Aishwarya in the first half of the film – or perhaps I should say I loved what Ghai did with her (and the character of Manasi) in the first half. It was an unusual treatment – Ash (nicely stripped down, with wavy, simple hair and little make up) plays an innocent girl becoming aware of herself, the opposite sex (in the person of Manav) and most interestingly, her power over the opposite sex. I like that Manasi was depicted as fighting a battle she not only did not want to win, but one she knew she would eventually rejoice over losing. Ash plays this Manasi well, with a sexual awareness, sensuousness and intensity that is compelling, yet simple and without guile. The second, post-fame and success, meek and a bit majboor, burdened with love and divided loyalties, Manasi we meet in the second half of ‘Taal’, I found much less interesting, because she was someone I’ve seen many times before.

Alok Nath is good with these kinds of roles, and ‘Taal’ is no exception. I especially liked him and Ash in the scene at Manav’s home in Bombay (it was a bit of a stretch, though – I think realistically, most people would have just upped and left after a while). Amrish Puri is very good in his role as well. And there is a sweet little pooch called Brownie who had no wondrous abilities and was just so cute.

But for me, the standout performance in this film is by Anil Kapoor, with a gorgeous, meaty comic role (he won a Filmfare award for it). His character, Vikrant Kapur, is self-consciously over-the-top and dramatic, but also intelligent and even a bit sensitive. Vikrant is a showman, constantly playing ‘pop star’, surrounded by lots of spandex-clad dancers who just never seem to stop dancing and just seem kinda trippy. He even has his dancers on the go when he’s recording songs in the studio. He’s really crazy (his scene expounding his ‘7 Commandments’ is priceless comedy), but somehow you don’t find him annoying or grating (at least, I didn’t). Even when he starts acting out of character (as he does later in the film), he does a funny little scene to remind you he’s still the wacky Vikrant you’ve come to like. And in the midst of all the craziness, there’s a depth to his character that comes through here and there.

This scene was hilarious: 'Arrest him!' 'No, why should I?' 'Arrest him!' 'No!' 'Then dance!' Loved it...

All-in-all, I liked ‘Taal’. Not sure if I’d like to watch it again, but I enjoyed it very much and think Ghai and his team did a good job.

‘CHORI CHORI’

This was such a chore to watch. I just found it flat and bland, there was nothing particularly cute, or sweet, or endearing, or enjoyable about it. It was just a load of ‘blah’ for me. And it’s a bit perplexing for me because the film stars two of my favourite Bollywood actors, Rani Mukerji and Ajay ‘the hotness’ Devgan. I so wanted to like their performances, to enjoy the movie, but it just wasn’t happening.

Let’s start with the obvious – the tagline for this movie is ‘Everyone falls in love’. It should’ve been ‘Everyone falls in love except the stars of this movie’. I did not believe that they fell in love, I could not relate to their angst, torment and emotion, there was less than zero chemistry between them, and it was just… not good. And then the story – it wasn’t charming, or sweet, or witty – although it was obviously trying to be. It wasn’t even offbeat, edgy, black comedy – which I think it was also trying to be. It was just blah – a bit annoying, if anything.

I didn’t like the characters – Rani’s character is meant to be street-smart and sharp, yet somehow likeable (I think). I didn’t feel any of it – I just thought she was such a big fat liar and kept lying with an amazing casualness and ease which I found somewhat appalling. Maybe I need to loosen up, but I didn’t like her at all. Ajay’s character was a big fat bore and just seemed empty, uncaring, selfish and uninteresting – even his excitement and passion was half-hearted. The depiction of Ajay’s family is no more than an unwieldy caricature, and Ajay’s ex, played by Sonali Bendre, really does nothing except look sad/regretful.

The music in the film is not particularly great either. In fact, there’s nothing particularly great about this film. It looks pretty enough, but it lacks heart and substance. And it’s sad, because it has potential (I guess). And because I’m always searching for slightly sensational theories to back up observed phenomena, perhaps the biggest lesson of ‘Chori Chori’ is: never make a romantic movie opposite your cousin’s husband, especially when you and said cousin don’t get on well enough to laugh over a few drinks at the movie launch party.

‘PYAAR KIYA TO DARNA KYA’ (PKTDK)

Once upon a time I tried to watch this film – but then a few minutes into it, a shirtless guitar-playing Salman Khan leapt out at me and I was exasperated. I think I was in one of those I-don’t-want-no-crap moods that day – I skimmed over a few scenes and then just gave up. Looking back, I think I had just suffered through Salman’s ‘Lucky – No Time for Love’, which I absolutely hated – so my Salman tolerance-level must’ve been at an all-time low. Recently, I got a chance to borrow a few DVDs from a fellow Bollywood fan, and there it was in her collection – PKTDK. I thought to myself, why not give it another try? At the very least, you’ll be able to give your ‘slacking’ Dharmendra movie list a much-needed boost. I’m glad I did.

PKTDK, like ‘Taal’, is basically a rich boy (played by Salman) meets and falls in love with lowly girl (played by Kajol) movie. However, on this occasion, the major obstacle to the lovers’ bliss is Kajol’s over-protective and rather violent bhaiyya (played by Arbaaz Khan), who takes fierce delight in battering all of Kajol’s prospects. Salman does not help his case by making a terrible first impression on bhaiyya, and also by being a young, happy-go-lucky kinda fella. Despite his best efforts, bhaiyya remains stubbornly unimpressed. Can’t believe I haven’t mentioned my darling Dharmendra yet, who plays Kajol’s wise and strong chachu, who has looked after her and her brother since the loss of their parents. To cut a long story short, obviously there is much drama but love prevails at the end because the protagonists (Salman in particular) are determined to take risks in the name of love, and not to give way to their fears (hence the title).

I really enjoyed this movie – it was actually fun and kinda sweet. Kajol and Salman both did well, and I think they made a nice couple, surprisingly. The songs are mostly cute. There’s a scene with ‘duplicates’ of Bollywood stars that’s really quite funny. And there are quite a few hilarious subtitles, some of which are showcased below (we always love that!)

Don't know why I love this... I just do.

'Wed me thee'?? If you're going for the Shakespearean approach to subtitling (nothing wrong with that, it's always fun), at least do it right and say 'wed thee me'...

And of course, it was so great to see my Dharmendra kicking bad guys’ behinds and being all fatherly and sweet. And his voice still does ‘it’ for me. If I have any complaints about Dharam in this film, they are (a) it would have been nice to see more of him; (b) his dubbing skills seemed a bit off – there was sometimes a glaring lack of sync – like once his lips said ‘strong boy lakhta hai’, but his voice said ‘he’s a strong boy’ (I think I'm nit-picking); and (c) there were a few ‘voiceless’ scenes where they deliberately don’t let you hear the character’s voices – and I would've liked to hear his. Anyway, whatever, I don’t care enough about this to bother about it much. It was just nice to see him again.

But the craziest thing about watching PKTDK was the realisation that I AM CHANGING (and not in a cute, inspirational I’m-getting-stronger-and-wiser Effie-White-in-Dreamgirls way either). No – I am changing: from a girl who didn’t like Salman at all, to one whose Salman tolerance-level is currently rather high! I mean, the shirtless scene didn’t bother me that much this time. I didn’t wince much at his silly, goofy wiggling-his-bumbum scenes. I wasn’t constantly rolling my eyes at his frequent corniness – OMG! I think he just might be (gasp!) growing on me. I find this very, very, very disturbing.