"Indra" Review

It's time to put some fun back into this blog. Enough of this melancholic poetic mood! And what do I do when I need some fun? Tollywoooooooood!!!! I know, I know, you people keep telling me about good serious movies made in Tollywood, and I even got some of them, but let me enjoy this stage of fun romance with Tollywood a little bit longer before I get to discover its grumpy serious side. Like every relationship, mine with Tollywood started off bubbly and exuberant and is bound to become profound and analytical, which is great, but... we're not there just yet!

So... Indra!

This is one I saw a while ago and swore I would blog about it, but been too lazy to actually get to it. Well, laziness no more! Jai Chiranjeevi! Oh wait, that's another movie... well then, insert whatever you shout out when joyous about something in Telugu! I think this time my favourite interjection, rrrreeyyyy, doesn't quite cut it...

Back to Indra. It starts off with all kinds of killings between two factionist families, in fact so many I had to watch it twice to figure out who the heck managed to survive the massacre. Turns out I'm just slow, the answer was very easy: no one. Except for... Indrasena, the youngest son/grandson of one of the two factionist families.

Little boy needs some work on his thigh slapping skills, but he's badass enough...

Namak: I realized that we love factionists on this blog, all the movies we've seen involving factionist Reddies have been fantastic. Arya 2 anyone?

Dolce: I know! And especially the ones where the main character has his own theme song to accompany him whenever he walks in, slow motion shots, purposeful walk, wind blowing in his lunghi and mustache...

Namak: Whoa, let's leave it at the wind blowing in his mustache, shall we? I know we love Chiranjeevi, but still...

Dolce: Sheesh! You're always thinking of mischief, you filthy mind! I was just trying to subtly praise his earthy wardrobe and the lack of satin and sequins in it! So much for subtlety!...

I do appreciate that the Megastar finally managed in his 50s to have a consistently decent wardrobe for his films. It was starting to get really scary, as much as I love glitter everywhere.

Chiru in State Rowdi (1989)

Please never again, Chiru dear! Pretty please!

Did I get distracted again? Oh dear, blame it on the shiny pants! Well, we're definitely in the new century with the wardrobe in this one. He even has a bandana around his neck, Pokiri style. Vah!... And the week-old beard suits this new look perfectly!

But enough objectifying. The plot! The plot goes something like this: Shankar (who, predictably is the same person as the Indra we saw as a child, played by Chiranjeevi in adulthood) is trying to raise his niece and nephew in Varanasi, where he has a job as taxi driver... When really he should have a job as a professional singer, but that's a different matter. In this avatar he meets Pallavi (Sonali Bendre, no better in this Telugu film than I remembered her from Hindi films, but still very pretty) who for whatever reason decides she will marry him. It's the week-old beard, I tell you, it must be!

At any rate, Sonali's overacting is superb in this film, she normally annoys me, but this was perfect for the role!

Then the story gets a little complicated, with nephew getting into trouble for trying to elope with a Muslim girl. Luckily, they seem to be much more tolerant when it comes to different religions in Varanasi, and much more responsive to failed suicide attempts than say... people in 90s Hindi films, so with this gratuitous screencap and a pair of lovers reunited, we conclude the first third of the film:

Namak: First third??? Dude, how much longer does this film go on for?

Dolce: Chill, we haven't even found out that Shankar and Indra are the same person.

Namak: That's a lot of set-up time just to introduce two characters that are relevant to the story. I would have chopped up half of these scenes if they're not going to bring anything to the story.

Dolce: What, and give up on half an hour of week-old bearded Chiru? Never!!

Regardless of whether or not the editor of the film was as in love with this beard thing as Dolce, the fact remains that the plot takes a looong time to settle in.

But when it does... We get kidnaps, Prakash Raj in hysterics, and even a helicopter to follow a train - granted, not as entertaining as the one in Magadheera, but still:

Ah... I live for such randomness!... Don't get me wrong, I love my cheap truck full of rowdies, but when they spend the extra dollar/rupee for helicopters and trains, you know the good stuff is yet to come!

The film really picks up from this point on, with twist after twist after twist, and a badass second heroine to boot! Aarti Agarwal may not have her own theme song when she walks in, but she still manages an explosive entrance, the kind that is usually reserved for the heroes. Ok, maybe the hair flips are not exactly hero-like, but this lady is on fire, and a pleasant change from the drama-queen Sonali.

Badass hair-flipping Snehlata Reddy

Namak: The second heroine sure makes for a good hero: she even crosses her legs when she sits down!

Dolce: Yea, this movie seems to have two heroes and one heroine, rather than the other way around.

Namak: Which explains the length of the first half. The plot of the second half could have made for an entire movie just by itself, but then there would have been no romance. I suppose that's fair.

Lots of good stuff happening in the second half: a Rrrhey shouting match between Sunil and Veer Shiva Reddy, a great scene of trashtalking between Indra and Veer Shiva Reddy before their fight (I love those!), some fabulous scenery, great choreography by Lawrence Raghavendra and Chiru's own Ghanan Ghanan song which is beautiful (and impossible to find on youtube in its Telugu version, so I suppose the Hindi dubbed version will have to do).

But it's not just the shallow stuff that gets my appreciation: some interesting religious symbolism in this second half as well! I'm particularly fond of the scene where the priest encourages Indra to go and fight without worrying about the ritual he is interrupting, because Lord Rama was also forgiven when he did the same to fight a demon. Perhaps one day I'll have to look deeper into the idea that dharma excuses all trespasses, an idea used often in Southie films (via Bhagavad Geetha, I'm sure), which are much more religiously/mythologically inclined than Hindi films.

All shallowness aside, there are a lot of themes packed in this film: religious differences, social issues and power balance in villages, women's place and power in the family (more than just from the point of view of the doting father or the jealous brothers), and surely a few others I'm forgetting right now. Sure there's over the top everything, and Chiru even gives me the impression he's taking this role seriously, but then he does a little smile for a split second, and I know he's just having fun with it. As was I.

I love Indra. It's over the top at times and even outrageous, but nonethless it's such an entertaining watch! So I suppose it delights me in the same way that cheese strings do. So many ways to play with them, and yet a great snack with plenty of nutritional value. Sure, not the fanciest cheese in the world, but sometimes I like to stop being a snob and just have fun.

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?

Going Home Bollywood Style

Hello, my blog, did you miss me? I am embarrassed to admit that with all the commotion over the holidays complete with a last minute trip across the Atlantic, I didn't get a chance to miss you. Now that I'm home though (as opposed to "back home"), I realize what an integral part of my life you have become. So a big hug to you!

Going back home always puts me in a contemplative mood, not because of the changes there (which are always many), but because of all the dead time I have on my hands: about 20 hours in total just in flights, and a whole lot of jet lag boredom. So when I'm not filling up this time with Kunal Khemu's movies watched one after the other, I sit and think... How is this Bollywood related, one may ask. Well, it sort of is because... well, because everything about me relates to Bollywood one way or another.

For example, the last couple of times I went home, I found myself having what I call "the Swades feeling": a bit of helplessness, a bit of nostalgia, a bit of impatience, a bit of frustration, but also in the end a strange peace coming from the comfort of old places that used to be mine.

This time around I found myself less nostalgic and more excited to discover every single new thing. So I guess this time I got "the Delhi 6 feeling": always exploring, always intrigued, always enchanted by some little detail that the locals are not even aware of. Still wanting to belong, but at the same time detached enough to be able to see the big picture without that indigenous fear of the future getting in the way.

Who knows, maybe next time I'll get "the Nuvvostanante Nenoddantana feeling": like a hyper kid in the candy store.

Come to think of it, it's amazing how few NRI films actually get all these feelings right. I guess Indian films are usually more preoccupied with the greatness of India and the India-pushing agenda to stop and think about what an NRI, or any immigrant returning home for that matter, would really experience. Most of the times you get little moments here and there, but then the story evolves either towards integrating the character back into the Indian society, or towards showing the great values that clearly the Western world has spoiled in the character, which inevitably leads to more drama, and sadly less authenticity.

But one film that got the whole thing right in my humble opinion, is the over the top and royally plot-holed Aaja Nachle. Successful American choreographer comes back to India with her daughter to pay her respects to her first dance teacher and life mentor. She arrives after his death, but has to fulfill his legacy in keeping the dance school and theatre alive.

How she does that is irrelevant for this discussion (though definitely worth watching, if only for the sumptuous dances), but over the course of the events we witness Diya's struggle with what are now foreign concepts to her: bureaucracy, people's acceptance and resentment, lost friendships.

One excellent scene that always resonates with me is when she goes to meet her childhood friend, and finds a completely different person in her stead. Isn't it ironic how we are always so cognisant of the changes we have gone through over the years and of the new person we have become, but with the same sincerity we expect the people we left behind to have stayed exactly the same as our memory has assembled them? Never fails to take me by surprise. The teenagers you used to hang out with are now grown men, the places you used to hang out in are gone, the party animals are now all about enjoying their quiet evening at home, and so on...

Still thinking about Aaja Nachle, maybe this film flopped precisely because the heroine was unconventional enough to not be reintegrated in the Indian society by the end of it. Maybe the Indian audiences are not interested in seeing an NRI who is genuinely happier on the other side of the world. Maybe they didn't take kindly to the returning Indian who brings her Western values and expectations home and succeeds in implementing some of them without being sucked into the "greatest country in the world" mentality. Maybe a heroine who doesn't give up her jeans and cropped tops in favour of a traditional salwar kameez, who doesn't fall head over heels for the charming Indian MP (though seriously, how does she not??), and who doesn't crumble emotionally in front of potential failure so that she can be rescued, maybe such a heroine is still too far ahead of her time for the Indian audiences. I always wondered why Aaja Nachle flopped, and it just came to me that this might be it. And maybe that's precisely why I loved it and list it as one of my favourite films despite its many shortcomings.

Wow... I didn't know I was going to talk at such length about Aaja Nachle when I started writing this, but it's probably good that I did, as this is one of those movies that I love too much to ever review properly.

And because I started with me, let's also end with me: Bollywood or no Bollywood there's no denying that going back home always teaches me something. About myself... about the others... about change... about differences... about harmony. I just have to be ready to learn. Hopefully I always will be.

2 Degrees of Separation: Walt Disney and Sanjay Leela Bhansali

I'm sure I'm not the first one to have thought of the similarities, because most of them can't possibly be missed, what with Sanjay Leela Bhansali (SLB)'s flair for fairy tales, but I realized I had to write this post when I saw Aishwarya's entrance in Guzaarish. I wish I could have found a still from the film showing that exact moment, but this will have to do for now.

She reminded me so much of Snow White that I immediately knew I had to write this post.

For some reason a lot of scenes and frames in Guzaarish sent me back to Snow White, even if the story itself resembles Beauty and the Beast much more: a lonely rugged-looking prince trapped in his rundown castle on the hill, with only a few servants, waiting for his death...



Sigh... I could do a whole post just on Guzaarish and Beauty and the Beast.

But this post will be more generic than that. Surprisingly I seem to have seen all but 2 of Sanjay Leela Bhansali's films, but certainly these are his most representative ones: Saawariya, Devdas, Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam and Guzaarish.

As far as Disney is concerned, I doubt I missed watching any of the classics less than 20 times since I grew up on them, so I'll be referencing quite a few, though the main focus are his classic love stories, to make sure that I'm comparing apples to apples here.

*** And since we already mentioned apples and Snow White, might as well start with a word on THE HEROINES in general... ***

From a modern perspective, Disney's heroines in his classics were the ideal housewives: beautiful, obedient, attentive and gentle. With very few exceptions, SLB's heroines fulfil these requirements as well.

The one thing that always drives me nuts about Paro (Devdas) and Nandini (Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam) is why on earth can they not stand up for themselves, in front of their man and in front of their parents. Rhetorical question, of course, because it's more cinematic to cry and deliver some inane dialogue about life not being worth living without the loved one than to actually speak up.

Just like a lost Snow White, Belle and Duchess manage to do nothing with themselves but hide and cry until they find someone to look after them.

Oh, such lady-like wimps... But you know, I love watching all these heroines for their grace: there has not been a single SLB heroine who did not walk, talk, dance and look like a queen (albeit sometimes in exile). Even Chandramukhi, a prostitute, could teach any girl a thing or two about refinement.

A very similar type of elegance can be found in all of Disney's heroines, from Snow White to Rapunzel. They'd probably be able to dance gracefully on their tiny little slippers while cooking excellent biryani and home made sweets. Oh wait, Snow White actually does!

Of course, any feminist will also hurry to point out that these graceful, perfect figures invariably depend on their men to rescue them: Snow White, Cinderella, Lady (Lady and the Tramp), Duchess (The Aristocats). No idea what would happen to these poor souls if their princes and tramps were not around to rescue them every time.

Similarly, Paro and Chandra (in Devdas) are both shattered without Dev (as opposed to the Kashyap version where they both live happily, even if initially heartbroken, without him), and Nandini has to rely on her husband to find her man for her. Saawariya as well plays into the same stereotype: Sakina is almost ready to accept Raj without having substantial feelings for him because the idea of not having any of the two men doesn't even cross her mind: what would she be without a man?

Won't really get into the Guzaarish issue of Sofia being abused by her husband and the way Ethan eventually "saves" her because that one just blows the mind. Interestingly Sofia is meant to be a strong woman (maybe intentionally different from other SLB heroines?), and one could say she saves herself, but where is her strength coming from and what is it directed at? Ethan.

Sure most Disney women end up in a happily ever after snapshot while SLB's tend to end up in misery, but their trajectory is the same: ending up with the hero = happily ever after. The opposite being also true: not ending up with the hero = miserable ever after.

*** Which brings us to... THE HERO ***

With Disney there are two types of heroes: on one side we have the Princes, who don't have much to do other than show up, so we won't really talk about them. The other far more interesting type of Disney hero is the "tramp", the adventurer, the utterly imperfect man: Tramp (Lady and the Tramp), O'Malley (The Aristocats), Aladdin (Aladdin), Beast (Beauty and the Beast). These boys don't have much to do with their time but wander the world, be brats and sing. Yes, Beast too, isn't that how he ended up where he is? However, their heart of gold shines through eventually and the heroine, as any ideal woman, knows to get past their bratty/abrasive appearance.

SLB's hero is equally carefree and lovably flawed: Raj (Saawariya), Dev (Devdas), Sameer (Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam).  Hat in hand, heart on sleeve, they wander the world in search of happiness.

Ethan in Guzaarish, much like the Beast, is a bit of an exception, but only on the surface. At heart, Ethan is, or was, just as sparkling and bright as Raj and Sameer. Or so the movie expects us to believe based on much too few flashbacks into Ethan's old life.

We are supposed to love the hero (and sure enough that's why the heroine falls for him) for his radiant, debonair personality, and then feel for him when that chirpiness gets killed in the wake of some tragic love-related event. Because much like the heroine he never has the strength to endure heartbreak. And, as an aside, I do believe SLB genuinely thinks that a man giving up on life because of a love story gone wrong is sexy!?!... That boggles the mind, it really does.

Ugh... no. Not my idea of sexy for sure.

Moreover, the one decent man, you know, the one that would actually make a reliable friend and/or husband, the one who is strong enough to deal with heartbreak... ends up getting the dirty end of the stick: Vanraj in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam. Of course, there are different opinions on the ending of HDDCS, and I do believe some would call it happy, but I can't help but feel for poor Vanraj...

Raj in Saawariya I would place halfway through, because Raj completely lacks that streak of depression, that tragedy characteristic of most SLB men, which is why he's the only one I can foresee ending up in a happy place. That could also be why I love him the most out of SLB's characters (and of course no one will believe me when I claim it has nothing to do with the fact that I adore Ranbir Kapoor in general, but I swear there is no connection! I swear!).

Of course, while on the topic of heartache both filmmakers have to inevitably believe that true love is only one. And that there is no life without it. But of course!...


*** VISUAL WONDERLANDS ***

Lush and opulent, SLB's sets and cinematography are part of the reason why I will always make an effort to see his films on the big screen.

Saawariya is my favourite by far, but that could be because I also love the film overall. However Devdas and Guzaarish, despite being bad stories, are such stunners that I still can't regret watching them to the end. If there's one thing that SLB gets right every time, it's the fairytale settings and the painfully beautiful images. Seriously, is there anything that is not bejewelled in his films?? As much as I dislike them, I have to admit I would love nothing better than to work as a set designer for SLB's films!

Disney's classics always captivated me for the same reason: why, they're so pretty! You can't take your eyes off them: they sparkle, they glimmer, they're colourful and soft. In short: they're gorgeous.

And as a tangent while on the topic of visuals, fun fact: according to imdb, Belle and Beast were the only people wearing blue in the Disney story, as a way to single them out visually. Need I mention SLB's fascination with blue? Or is it evident in Saawariya and Guzaarish?


*** MUSIC AND DANCE ***

Walt Disney is quoted to have once said: "I'd rather entertain and hope that people learn, than teach and hope that people are entertained." Well, at least he was one honest man.

I doubt SLB would ever say something as truthful as the above quote, but deep down inside he seems to be a student of the same school of thought. Nothing else can explain the lack of substance in his films. But to a certain degree that is ok with me. There is a part of me that is happy just watching Madhuri dancing or Aish running in the fields. And listening to the beautiful songs of Saawariya. And not over analysing the meaning of Paro and Dev's night by the river or the inappropriateness of the song Pari in Saawariya. I just don't want to know. Let me look at how pretty it all is and let's leave it at that.

Sadly, a byproduct of the film's visual magic is that the soundtracks inevitably lose their charm when they play on my iPod.

Disney does a lot better in that respect, and I am probably one of the few adults in the world who owns a CD set with the most popular Disney songs. That I actually listen to. And know all the lyrics to. Granted I didn't buy it for myself, but I can assure you it was a gift received with hops and shouts.


*** Last but not least...THE SURPRISING CONCLUSION ***


Funnily enough, I love Disney's classics down to the last cheesy "happily ever after" frame, but have very little love for Sanjay Leela Bhansali's melodrama. I suspect that's because it's always the child in me that rewatches Disney's movies, with big wide eyes and no desire to deconstruct them. Unfortunately for him, SLB came into my life too late: I was already a cynic and perfectly capable of analysis by then. Sad for him...

That's why this image will always make me go awwww...

... while this one will make me roll my eyes and reach for the lemon juice to cut the nausea.

Such is life...

PS: A big Thank You to the guys and girls at Magical Screencaps for generously making their Disney stills available. It saved me a lot of renting and downloading!

Tere Bin Laden Review

Wow... how to review this film without offending American sensibilities? I pondered on this question for about a minute before deciding that... I won't. Take into account American sensibilities that is. No really, while understanding that 9/11 is a touchy subject, one cannot deny the amount of ridiculousness that its aftermath has given birth to, and Tere Bin Laden takes full advantage of that. The movie won my 5 stars the moment we see Ali Hassan trying to be all smooth and chivalrous by returning a dropped butter knife to the air hostess on his flight to the US, only to be met by this face:

Really, I still miss my 3 cm nail file that got confiscated at a Canadian airport a couple of years ago...

But my personal experiences aside, the movie only gets better from there, and as they say, no cow is too holy for this film. The story in a nutshell is about Ali Hassan, a Pakistani yuppie, who tries to scam his way into the US in the post 9/11 world without much success. However the Gods seem to finally smile upon him when he discovers an Osama Bin Laden look-a-like whom he uses to make a video proving that Osama is alive and well (and even has access to health care since he has obviously done Botox, as one of the characters quickly points out). Surely the TV channels will pay millions for this video, but will that be enough to pave pay Ali's way to the promised land?

In an hour and a half, the film packs an impressive amount of digs at the American paranoia and imperialism, the Indian/Pakistani "grass is always greener on the other side" mentality, the media's inanity, Communism, and even at the current craze for overpriced, overhyped and underperforming organic products that a developing country would produce naturally for a fraction of the cost (one of the best lines in the film if you ask me).

It's interesting to note that in order to coherently go in so many directions without being overbearing, the film uses both the foreground and the background very efficiently throughout. And for heaven's sake, don't disregard your peripheral vision either because those eye muscles will get a good workout too. There's always something going on in every corner of the screen, but somehow it's not tiring at all, if anything it just gives you a reason to look forward to the next watching. Granted, some of the jokes fizzle a bit on the second watching, but I for one appreciated the opportunity to focus on the lovely performances the second time around.

Funnily enough, observing (and taking advantage of) the most obnoxious mentality changes seen after 9/11 doesn't do anything to deter Ali from his dream. The biggest and perhaps most subtle irony of the film is that he begins by using the Pakistanis' weaknesses but ends up taking full advantage of everything that is not desirable from the American psyche, all the while not stopping to think for a second if he really wants to live in the very society whose xenophobia and shortsightedness keeps interfering with his plans. But I don't think we're meant to think about whether or not Ali will be happy in the US, especially since this is what his American dream looks like.

The movie is built on several levels which helps it stay interesting for various types of viewers. I'm sure every time I watch it going forward I'll notice yet another detail that will make me laugh hysterically. The reason why it works for me where other slapstick movies or satires do not work, is because it blends both. Just when you're getting into the subtleties of the script and admiring the elegance of a situation that mercilessly mocks everyone without even a hint of crassness, you get hit by a "Men in Black" type scene where it's virtually impossible not to laugh at the CIA sync-chewing on carrots while interrogating the suspect. But don't give your brain a break just yet because you may have to quickly call on it again for a dollop of brilliantly penned sarcasm. I can see this film being enjoyed thoroughly with your brain in OFF mode, but also in ON mode.

Typically I would have Dolce and Namak talk about their likes and dislikes, but since they were both falling off the couch laughing, I can't really do that today. But I will tell you what amused and charmed each of them the most:

Dolce: the Nagin dance

 

Namak: the Men in Black spoof

Dolce: the delightfully retro savings accounts.

Bank Account Number 1

Bank Account Number 2

Bank Account Number 3

Namak: the reference to a brilliant line from The Shawshank Redemption, an all-time favourite.

Hey, I told you no cow was too holy!

Dolce: Ali Zafar

What? I can't stop Dolce from being a fangirl!...

Namak: Operation Kickass!

Ok, I give up, I'll just screencap the whole movie if I keep this up. But I will mention one more scene that had me hugging my knees in a futile attempt to prevent my abs from getting torn by laughter, and it's the scene where the Pakistani cop realizes that there is no good reason to bomb Afghanistan, which as it turns out, doesn't seem to phase the American investigator. A priceless dialogue, and so right in so many ways!

By the way, wherever they found this guy (Barry John), they struck gold. He is... PERFECT! Can you tell he has a hilarious accent from the screencap above? Because I tell you, he does!

And did you know the Americans have missiles that can take out the entire first floor of a building without moving even a glass of water on the second? Well, if you didn't, you'd better watch this film because one of them even gets launched in what was the other greatest moment of the film for me.

As an aside, I've actually missed Shankar Ehsaan and Loy lately, so I was very happy to get such a fun soundtrack from them, especially in a film where I wasn't expecting any memorable songs. Of course, it helps that Ali Zafar is actually a well-known Pakistani pop star and can sing his own songs!


Aye haye, I'm floored! Can we see more of him in the future, please?

Truly, an hour and half of all kinds of fun, which makes this one of my favourite movies of the year and definitely the best satire in a long time. Sorry Peepli [Live], but where you were callous and caustic, Tere Bin Laden was light and witty, which works infinitely better for me in the context of a satire.