Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Shirin Farad ki KAHAN Nikal Padi?


This Bela Bhansali Sehgal film which claimed to be really different, as attested by the promos, could not be different from the hackneyed and distasteful Bollywood take on the Parsi community. Shirin and Farad might be interesting in certain ways, but the other members of the Parsi community are not. Rather, the film hyperbolically projects the community as eccentric, getting at each other’s throats at the slightest opportunity. In Bombay cinema, Parsi characters have barely risen above being caricatures: an English-speaking white-skinned sophisticated upper class people full of idiosyncrasies. Shirin Farad Ki To Nikal Padi accentuates this image manifold, creating bizarre farce at the expense of making clowns of the Parsi people. Most scenes banking more heavily on gross physical action, than wit, could barely extract a smile, let alone evoking laughter. In a mayhem at a society meeting, a certain old man attacks Farad with his stick: Circus dekhne aaye ho kya? Ironically, the scenes have a same effect on the audience of the film. Had the script been written by someone other than Sanjay Leela Bhansali, the reproach could have been less rasping. It’s depressing that Bhansali too resorted to bawdy humour to achieve what he thought was comedic.
               
 I was half-expecting Bhansali to at least mention if not muse on the alarming rapidity with which the Parsi community is dwindling in numbers. The interdiction on inter-community marriage has to a great extent been responsible to the near extinction of the community, otherwise highly cultured and classy. Single Parsi men and women are quite common too. Terribly concerned about the rapid depletion of the community, the Parsis are at times over-protective of their culture and traditions, as underscored by the magazine Parsiana, the news-daily Jam-e-Jamshed, and also websites promoting the Zoroastrian religion, myths, legends, rituals and history. Shirin Farad Ki To Nikal Padi scarcely focuses on this or rather makes fun of this in general. In fact, the film laughs off the issue in that one disparaging dialogue given to the matchmaker who claims that a ‘normal’ Parsi boy is, nowadays, a rarity.
                 

 The film which had the potentiality of becoming a joy-ride loses its edge much too early. An overweight mother (Daisy Irani) heavily weighing down on her 45 year old son who is still unhitched, a frail but jovial grandmother (Shammi), and of course, the meek, obedient, dutiful, overgrown baby of a son (Boman Irani) who works at a lingerie store sets the right kind of note. Exasperated with finding a proper match, Farhad becomes the butt of laughter at family gatherings. A particularly catty aunt even expresses suspicion about his sexuality. Enter the boisterous Shirin Fuggawala(Farah Khan), the secretary of the Parsi Trust. Cupid charges his arrow, and Farhad and Shirin fall in love. In fact, they both seem much-too-ready to fall for each other. But alas! When all seem hunky-dory, an unfortunate tank interferes to separate the lovers. But the problem is the hinge of the tank on which the plot turns could not hold water enough to sustain the fun. The rest of the film becomes extremely predictable, but, thankfully, it’s not unbearably taxing to sit through the dénouement.  
               
 The optimism of the film might be encouraging for all those who are still in search of love, although they are ‘conventionally’ past the age. However, it’s not original. I was being constantly reminded of Khatta Meetha, where two old people marry, after having lost their respective spouses. Whereas Khatta Meetha was excessively delightful, Shirin and Farhad could not really cook up that sweet-and-sour taste. It’s much too bland for a comedy, despite a delectable buffet of traditional Parsi cuisine spread across several frames of the film. 

The film even makes an attempt to situate the 40+ lovebirds in the Bollywood tradition of youthful romance: in self-mocking reverie, Farhad imagines himself gyrating with Shirin in sequences reminiscent of iconic songs of blockbuster candy-floss love stories such as Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Hum Apke Hain Koun…! and Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jaayenge. The fun is majorly lost because of the awful song, and equally awful choreography. Yes! Farah Khan, the star choreographer, disappoints big time. Boman’s moves are far more agile and confident than hers.

Boman Irani with crooked shoulders, a pot belly and a particular kind of walk makes the 45 year old Farhad believable. The very opening scene where he fondly eggs on a troop of young cyclists coming out of Cusrow Baug establishes the character. Farah Khan also does justice to the role, given that Shirin Fuggawala is quite like her. But, Daisy Irani draws the real laugh, using her obesity to comic effects.
 
One question, however, keeps on nagging me! Is Bollywood seriously running short of music directors? Then, why the obnoxious Jeet Ganguly? And, wasn’t he briefed about the story? Didn’t he know that the songs would be lip-synced by 40-somethings? The playback singing is completely out of tune with the voices and mannerisms of the actors on whom the songs are picturized. Has Bhansali also lost his ear for music? O my god! Am scared! Can one Sawaariya do so much damage?
 
Image Courtesy: frontierindia.org

No comments: