Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani

THE-LENS

# Film: *Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani* **Release date:** 6 November 2009 (UK) **Music composed by:** Pritam Chakraborty, Salim–Sulaiman **Producers:** Ramesh Taurani, Ronnie Screwvala **Review by Dr Usman Latif Khawaja** The film stars Ranbir Kapoor and Katrina Kaif in the lead roles. ### An absurdist, stupendous Santoshi stupor in a slapstick nightmare True to its ludicrous title, the storyline is shrouded in mystery, or it vanishes from the screen as the jumbled images sequester in ill-conceived sequences, while it is obvious the reason for conceiving this miscarriage in cinema is that Salman Khan agreed to a 3-minute special appearance because his dummy girlfriend co-stars in this shop of comic horrors with the worst actor and star son on the Indian screen. This is slapstick at the lowest level possible, which makes *Singh Is Kinng* look like a classic, with a loophole in every sequence, a mal-salubrious product of a one-time great director, Santoshi, who made bona fide classics like *Andaz Apna Apna*, *Khakee* and *Lajja*. The confusion is apparent in the opening, as Ranbir Kapoor, the miserable lead, appears in a Charlie Chaplin mode and falls head-first into a pond on a bicycle, only to emerge with a frog croaking on his head. This is the hallmark of the pathetic comedy that follows, and Kapoor apes everyone from Raj Kapoor to his eminent uncle Shammi in a subverted sixties party sequence, which is a cross between nostalgia and Elvis Presley too. The non-existent plot centres on a HAPPY CLUB, with six buffoons headed by Kapoor, who play practical pranks like abducting young women for ransom as a joke. Kapoor is the worst star son ever, who has no looks, needs elocution lessons and a reincarnation to become a star, which only God can oblige in his blessing. The starkly sullen profile and vacuous dialogue diction, accompanied by blank expressions, make him an apt competitor for Bachchan Junior, but he is definitely better than Ranbir. He is paired here with the most non-talented, pretty-faced and lanky female actress ever, called Jenny, played by Kat Kaif, who plays a Christian middle-class girl with a cross around her neck and a square, ugly spectacle on her nose, which is supposed to make her look bourgeois and intelligent simultaneously, but only succeeds in looking like a B-grade model. This miserable club then proceeds on various adventures, which include racist jokes about meat-eaters and vegans, and makes kidnapping and abductions into a foul, cheap antic. Meanwhile, we also have the two parents, one Catholic and one strictly Hindu, squabbling with the two lead lovers, and this religious strife is supposed to be comic, while Santoshi, as the director, is so confused he has no idea about his characters, who carry on from Abbott and Costello to the Raj Kapoor comedies from the fifties. By the time Jenny is really abducted by some gangsters, who are all underworld clowns pretending to be from a Tarantino movie, it is a mighty headache to endure. The songs are an ocean of ennui and are choreographed on a set left over from the ruins of Mr. Bhansali's *Saawariya*. In fact, I think the two movies are as absurd as each other, other than having the preposterously bad Kapoor as a common dividend. Please, Mr. Kapoor, whether you work with Amitabh or Shah Rukh or Aamir, you are never going to be anything but an embarrassment to the Kapoor clan, and as for Kaif–Salman, they are history since the potboiler called *Yuvvraaj*, and this is in competition for the worst movies of the year award, and it does not even have one decent quality about the subverted sense of humour that Santoshi brilliantly displayed in *Andaz Apna Apna*. This is on par with movies like the trashy *My Name Is Anthony* and some such crap like *Chandni Chowk to China*, and if you liked them, this is your cup of tea. It is sad to see Santoshi obliged to indulge in this mess, as he is a talented artist and deserves better, but then Bollywood is sliding into an abysmal abyss, and Santoshi is onboard as well.