Is it a bird? Is it a plane?! No, Its BITTER CRITIC!
What?
Well, we watch movies and we fall in love with that magical element that just makes a film perfect and viewable, over and over again, and that perfect song that plays in the backdrop just as soon as the protagonist catches the first glimpse of the girl while the breeze unveils her picture perfect face blushing while she beams. Oh, so adorable!
Well, I puke all over that.
That was probably the only way to delineate Bitter Critic.
And today, I'm reviewing Chetan Bhagat's book-turned-film, Kai Po Che, which I see from the point of view of well, a viewer, cynical, not like a technician, looking at oh well, how brilliant the lighting was and whether or not the music should have started just a millisecond later.
Well, Bitter Critic, meet World. World, meet Bitter Critic.
Awkward, great we're past THAT stage.
So Kai Po Che, a li'l late, yeah, I know, but the exams are to blame. SPARE ME!
Terrible Book = Terrible film, and I don't say it JUST because I'm cynical, but because of 4 words : Clichéd; Seen that, done that; Typically Bollywood.
Yeah, my maths' a li'l week. Just like my englis.
SO, the movie kicks off with, SPOILER ALERT, a prisoner, coincidentally a politician as well, being released with PERFECTLY trimmed mustaches, and how would I know that, well, if ONLY the director had not zoomed totally into his face. I swear I could count the number of hair his upper lip houses. 3,85,670 AAAAND ONE, to be precise. However, like I said earlier, my maths is weak. A nerdy Govind, comes to his friend's mukti from the typical 70's jail, with the blue walls, kaidi waale kapde, where you significantly resemble a zebra or could camouflage with the bars. As Omi, our woebegone actor, peels the Kodak moments of the good ol' days with his chums, we can distinctly see the horizon separating the dark and dingy prison wall and that clean, new as ever wall once hidden behind those photographs.
Leaving his alternate home, Omi hops into his walk-all-over-me-persona-friend's car which is driven as slowly as the insipid plot. Good car = successful man, huh? See, don't we all know the answer, just like we know how Omi slips into a retro-coma and relives what happened all those years ago. Man, doing that same jejune activities again? Major UGH.
{Judge Judy Mode : Govind somewhat resembles the early Darsheel Safary here, with those rodent teeth just yearning to pop out of his mouth.}
Well, now we step back a decade.
*rewwwwind*.
And we're at Kaka's Kutiya where the three friends sit glued on to the idiot box watching some India vs. Winner match. No sooner than that, a grunt screeches when the boys are disturbed by Kaka's Kunti Kudi, aka Vidya, oh the irony, and Ishaan's sister.
Who is this Isshan, Eeshaaaan, Ishaan, lost in translation, I speak of? Sigh, he's a failed cricketer who everyone later in the movie mocks. He wants to live vicariously by coaching other "aspirants". He's brave and tough, our Macho-Man bashes up this ishtudd just because he's blowing the horn off his car while Ishaan watches his match. Oh don't you get it, he's just honking for attention! The pun!
Soon after persuading badi oonchi parties phaar some rokda to ishtart their bisness, we see the trio move into the mandir ke kone mein kiraane wali dukaan which is simply anticipating for the three to commence their new business making the poor Ahemdabadies play, purchase and profess (useless education).
The baniya that he is, Govind keeps stacking money while Omi stands behind the counter selling cricket equipment at elite rates and Ishaan playing with kids. And no, not in a pedophilic manner, jeez.
Mind you, they all worked very hard to open this dukaan, well, Govind just plotted, while Ishaan did the manual labour and made pretty faces with a halo-like-background which we often see later in the movie, after he dies, that is, and Omi convinced his Politician-cum-Mama for the "dough".
Yay, it opens with the mere population of the city standing at the doors staring into the 5x5 feet shop like it's Einstein's time portal or something. #controversy.
They customize their "crib" and we see how it's everyone's hangout zone during a cricket match.
Now we're forced to see the story about Govind's Gyan and slutty sister Vidya. She refuses to study and he forces her to. Isn't this how every blue film also starts? Well, so does this one. No, kasham, it turn's into an Indian one soon. Indian one as the its as boring as the characters.
Left Stage, aaand ENTER! Here come's Ali, the only bearable element of this film, well that's because of his puny dialogue roll.
Ali's good with the balls. Yeah, the marbles and the one's the adults keep throwing at him, he however is good with his bat too, hitting the balls away. Ishaan is urged to throw atleast 3 pairs towards the young lad as he stands vulnerable right in the middle of a vast field. Unable to withstand the roughness, he collapses.
AND THEY CALL ME A PERV.
Seeing the talent possessed by the gully-chaap Ishaan puts all his money on the boy and devotes all his energy, and is the woman behind this potential-man-and-international-21-year-old-prodigal-cricketer. Well, if only I could also pledge my strength into bearing this farce of a film.
They soon share a bond, a bond unlike another, except in bollyland, that lasts beyond the pitch as well. The bond is what also rupture's Ishaan's friendship, his resources and, sigh, his life. TRAAAGIDDY.
Well, the three musketeers drool over a porn magazine and a brochure of a mall, hay so anciently designed. Well, they do take a glance and decide to go way over their budget and choose a window facing space they can't pay for.
MAMA TO THE RESCUE!
This mama, he's loaded.
Whatever, they still go to him for the funds but the Shakuni Mama gives giving the influencee, Omi innuendos about heading the Party. See how hierarchy falls in.
Predicatively, he does the same. Back to the nerd, Govind, in short, cutting all the romantic bull crap, yeah, we all know how Dandiya night leads to coitus. So do our Sheldon Cooper and Kim Kardashian.
*potential ad for safe sex and birth control devices*
Soon, Vidya becomes the poster girl for unsafe sex. However, its a Bolly film, all has gotta go well. Them rose tinted glasses. And "well" here is, her not getting pregnant. Well, uber concerned brother still is oblivious to the rather obvious love brewing between the two. That is, until he reads THAT text on THAT Nokia 1100.
*Rumbles and Tumbles*
Well, that signifies the effects of the Bhuj Earthquake which destroyed several homes, tore families apart, ceased lives, and created great havoc. However, leave all that aside, it created a schism between Omi and Ishaan over their political differences while whiny Govind is all sunk over his Titanic. Haha, I live in Punasia!
We pass that egoistic phase between the duo and GO-VIND-up-your-issues after a rare and victorious India.
<hint>Match Fixing</hint>
All's well until the movie starts reeking of a politico-religious controversy. If the directors dedicate 30 minutes into a train, you have GOT to know something's bound to happen.
Like the fires which are the root to the religious violence across Gujarat.
Oh Me! Omi's parents too die in the fire which sends its selective tremors to Omi and Mama. They further convey their grief and pain bound emotional crying to he Village Vassis.
Come five more minutes of torture and the Hindus vs. Muslims clashes occur. Coincidentally they occur on the eve of Ali's cricket auditions and coincidentally Ishaan is the victim of Omi's angst loaded bullet. Two minutes we stare into his unshaven neanderthal-like face and his pre-historical Justin Bieber inspired hair do.
So 2010s, so needy.
Well, Govind's ass got saved a whooping for the "accident" and Omi's landed in a cellar for, well, taking his friend's life, which in Bolly terms is the most heinous, gruesome and ill crime anyone can EVER commit.
*Fast forward*
And we're back to 2010 where the first thing we see is Govind's only planned ordeal, a son named Ishaan, so original right - I wonder where he got that from, who he introduces to a free man Omi.
Oooo Burn!
A little more ahead and we notice our all mature Ali, a 21 year old, playing for his dead uncle Ishaan, who's halo influenced and over exposed photos we see every now and then, is playing against India vs Australia.
Phiniss.
Conclusively, the three mistakes are, Seeing this film, Wasting 2.5 hours, Missing Lincoln.
This review was probably just as long as the film, but not as boring, or so I hope!
BRUNT : How much DOES this movie deserve?
✭, I mean I did enjoy those nachos.
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