Ajab Ranbir's Silly Happy Movie

Now that Kapoor Khazana is in full blast, a quick reminder that this is a wonderful month-long international event, hosted by Totally Filmi's Katherine, so in case you didn't land on my blog through this event, do check out all the other happenings and posts collected by Katherine here. It's already been a blast and we haven't even completed a week!

While on the topic of shameless promotion, I take this opportunity to also pimp out my page of Ranbir Kapoor avatars, because you know, why not?

And now back to business as usual. I'm a little behind of actual reviews, so one was long overdue. Since I have so far talked at length about 2 Ranbir movies on this blog, and briefly touched on another 2, there was no other option but to finally review the wacky Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani ("The extraordinary tale of oddball Prem", as I like to translate it, very inaccurately I'm sure). A simple or not so simple love story between Prem (Ranbir Kapoor), the good for nothing self-elected president of The Happy Club and Jenny (Katrina Kaif), the new girl in town. Essentially it's just another one of those growing up from slacker to hero stories that Ranbir Kapoor excels at, but as usual with him, the theme stays fresh and fun. Katrina Kaif doesn't typically impress me, but this is the role where I found her glorious and perfectly cast. Her best acting yet, even though that may sound inadequate for such a silly film.

Namak: Ewww!!! Converse shoes and a skirt???

Dolce: Oh don't worry, in terms of sartorial choices, there is much worse in this one!

Yes, Ranbir, that IS a satin suit and no amount of staring at it will make it better...

Well then, we're off to a good start! Though I must also congratulate the costume department in this one for the persistence with which they kept repeating the colour yellow (my favourite) in Katrina's outfits. Loved every single one of those yellow dresses and let me tell you there were many!

Namak: Actually, you criticize it for no reason, the clothes were young and fun for the most part.

Dolce: Too yuppy for my tastes, but that's something I have to learn to live with. At least they were colourful!

But one thing that the above poster does nail is the cartoon feel of this movie. One will never make it past the first 20 minutes unless they have understood and embraced that. The comedy in APKGK is very much reminiscent of Tom and Jerry cartoons, and even though it pauses for the serious moments that take the plot forward, ample warning about it is still needed.

I'm usually not the type to go for goofy comedy, but this is one of those films where you have no choice but to laugh out loud. It's not just that the comedy is funny, it's also so self-aware that you feel like a condescending schmuck if you don't go along with it. At least I did.

I mean for crying out loud: they escape on a ski jet and climb onto a train stopped on the bridge on a rope ladder!! That alone should tell you it's an insult to expect any seriousness from this movie! But at the same time I appreciate that unlike many comedies lately this one doesn't rely on causing someone pain or on insulting people in order to be funny. It's all in good heart: people sitting on cakes, exaggerated reactions, over the top acting, Ranbir dancing goofily at the wedding, Katrina making faces, Salman Khan in a very self-referential guest appearance, the kind of stuff that good old-fashioned comedy is made of.

Namak: Trying too hard sometimes maybe?

Dolce: No way! Just right!

Namak: Definitely too much comedy for my taste at times, but I must admit the non-goofy moments do make up for that.

Another reason why Ajab Prem works so well as a cartoon is the set: a very artificial town, reminiscent of Saawariya, where only a fairy tale can take place. This blends nicely with the outlandish feel of the whole story, removing all claims for realism.

Dolce: But you know what I think is this movie's biggest strength?

Namak: D-uh! Ranbir, right?

Dolce: Hah! Very funny, but no. THE SONGS! It's not very often you watch a movie these days where every single song is not only perfectly placed but also impeccably shot! I can't even pick a favourite they're all just so good!

Namak: And of course that has nothing to do with Ranbir?

Dolce: Erm... well, of course they work even better because he's such a great performer, but... Well yeah, I guess that's a big part of it.

Namak: Mm-hm. I knew it.

No really, someone please try and find one thing that is faulty in this one:



Wonderful, just wonderful!

And while on the topic of the songs, I really wish one day I could analyse what makes Tu Jaane Na so exquisitely beautiful, but I'm afraid dozens of rewatches later I still am not able to think straight while watching it. I get the old lump in the throat when it starts and coherent thought is replaced by a storm of emotions until it ends.



I also always forget just how much I love Aa Jao Meri Tamanna until I see it again in the movie. And it's not only the beautiful lyrics and the soulful melody, I blame a lot of it also on Ranbir's natural gift for lip-synching. So many other actors look either uncomfortable or just goofy when doing all those broad gestures and pretending to sing at the top of their broken heart, but not Ranbir. He was born for this, there's no doubt about it!



Oh but enough of the songs, I could be here all day talking about them and I never even mentioned Ranbir's dancing yet!

It's a difficult task this movie took on: to tell a story with the emotional pathos of the olden days, but also to keep it entertaining and funny with goofy moments and situational comedy. I think they nailed it most of the time.

Namak: Except for the stammer stuff. That was unnecessary, no?

Dolce: What? I thought that was cute! 

Namak: It seemed so tacked on, they just couldn't find a better excuse for their first fight so they added it to the script.

Dolce: Not at all. It was a cute little detail that makes both characters even more endearing.

Namak: Hmpf! Suit yourself. I think the movie would have worked just fine without that.

Dolce: That may be so but how would you have had this wonderful umbrella moment without it?

Jenny realizes that she had no reason to be mad at Prem so in a pinch for how to say sorry, she quickly advances to cover him with her umbrella. This is the kind of Bollywood we live for, isn't it?

By the way, for more adorable and romantic umbrella moments in all kinds of Kapoor movies, Totally Filmi has a post dedicated to them here.

What is there left to say about Ajab Prem? Plenty! I haven't talked about the gangsters / men in black...

...haven't mentioned the twist that brings Upen Patel into the tale (not that that's a good thing, just for the record)...

(Sorry, no screencap for this one, I refuse.)

...haven't praised Prem's perfectly cast parents: Darshan Jariwala and Smita Jaykar...

...have also not even touched on Prem's gang of ever so helpful and good-hearted friends...

...and nor did I say a word about the fight in the end that has me rolling on the floor laughing every single time!

But then I always get criticized for writing too much and besides: there must be some surprises in the movie for you too, no?

Wait, is that...? No, it can't be! But it... !?!?!

Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani is like blue cheese. It's strong, stinky and surprising so you have to really know what to expect to not be disappointed. But behind the slightly odd first aftertaste, the hard ripe deliciousness of it will leave your palate with some very sweet memories. And once you get into it, you're hooked for life!

2 Degrees: The Voice of Paintings

This may sound a little blasphemic, it does even to me and I feel a bit awkward writing it, but I'll write it anyway.

The reason why I can't write about music, it just occurred to me, is because I never mastered the vocabulary. Granted, I never felt it was imperative, but every once in a while I find myself wanting to talk about music, and failing. For example lately I've been wanting to write a whole post gushing about Pakistani and Bollywood singer Atif Aslam. But what to write about him other than "I adore him" and other such trivialities? I wanted to put into words just how much I love his voice and how happy I am every time I discover a new song from him in a movie... So... since my music language is lacking, I'll use a different language that I am much more familiar with: painting.

Atif Alsam's voice to me is like a beautiful painting. And if I was to narrow it down - this is where the blasphemy part comes in - it would be like a Vincent van Gogh painting. Now don't sharpen your machetes just yet, art lovers, hear me out!

Van Gogh's paintings for the most part have a quality that every artist covets: they are unmistakable! One cannot look at a van Gogh and think that it's a different artist: they either know it's him, or they don't know much about art in which case they won't venture to guess. A unique blend of all the artistic movements he was going to influence (from the Fauves to the different branches of Expressionists), as well as a tribute to the Impressionist techniques, van Gogh's art is unprecedented and unsurpassed. But most of all, it is singular.

Vincent's Room at Arles

In a similar way one cannot mistake Atif Aslam's voice for another's after they have heard him once. Just like van Gogh's brush strokes, this off-key, rough and yet poetic modulation has a personality of its own, and certainly will endure in one's memory if one has a taste for it. It sure did in mine, I was hooked as soon as I heard Pehli Nazar Mein. And I didn't even know then that his very first song, Aadat, would become my most favourite despite a career that is by now 7 years old.



The one thing I really like about Atif Aslam is the "boy next door" quality of his singing. Unlike Sonu, Mohit and all the others, his songs, though complicated, always sound unrehearsed, as if he could be sitting with you for coffee and all of a sudden felt like singing to you. Ok, maybe I'm daydreaming a little bit much here, but there's such an effortlessness about his singing that I'm always a bit surprised the first time I try to sing along to a new song and fail horribly to hit the right notes. Some people have the "boy next door" face, or the "boy next door" physique. With Atif, it's the "boy next door" voice. Sadly, not the boy next to my door, but that's a different matter...

I find the same quality from a slightly different angle in van Gogh's art: he always painted real life. People, flowers, landscapes, street corners, you name it, he painted it in his own frantic way, reflective of his troubled inner life, but it all feels as real as the coffee shop down the street and the garden in front of your building. And how would it not, when it was all right there, next to his door.

Cafe Terrace at Night

Tired already? Hang in there, I'm not done yet! There's one more thing they have in common and it's the most important one: the passion!

Can you hear heartbreak in every word on Tere Bin? I could before I even knew any of the lyrics, and it still makes me a little bit sad to listen to it.

Though not as sad as Tu Jaane Na and Aadat! Those two have got to be the world's saddest songs, and I love them dearly! Atif's soulful singing is as efficiently heartbreaking as a surgeon's scalpel.

Similarily, van Gogh's mental state makes its way directly to the canvas and into your heart through his violent brush strokes and heavy textures. The colours may vary from the brightest yellows to the darkest blues, but his striking interpretations of something as simple as a vase of flowers never fail to inspire at least awe, if not a full storm of emotions.

Four Cut Sunflowers

Whew... Well this was easier than talking music lingo, that's for sure! Now who knows if it even expressed an ounce of my admiration for this talented singer, but at least I am happy to have tried.

Now that I started thinking about it, Sunidhi Chauhan's voice sounds like a Gustav Klimt painting, Vishal Dadlani evokes Edvard Munch, and Henri Rousseau's naive painting makes me think of Shreya Ghoshal's pure voice. But... maybe that's for part II of The Voice of Paintings?