Delhi Belly

Delhi Belly - A Review (* * * 1/2)

Abhinay Deo’s ‘Delhi Belly’ is a brash, irreverent comedy that is so hilariously indecent, it must have set some sort of standard for bad taste in Bollywood. Say what you will about the film’s affection for all things gross, it all fits rather smoothly into the scheme of a caper. There’s a scene where a jar of turd provides the pivotal twist. If the very sound of that puts you off, you’re not the intended audience for ‘Delhi Belly’. To others, I say watch the scene and try telling me that wasn’t even mildly funny.

The plot: Our heroes Tashi, Arup and Nitin are regular 20-something blokes who share a dingy flat somewhere in Delhi. Their bachelor pad is a victory of production design, evoking a cross between a dumpster and a Railway washroom. Tashi (Imran Khan) is a reporter who aspires to strike gold covering some good breaking news story, but is stuck on the bottom rung interviewing starlets and the likes. Nitin (Kunaal Roy Kapur) is the far more content photographer assigned to him and the sleaze of the trio. Arup (Vir Das) is a cartoonist who works for, I think, an advertising firm and we see a dartboard with his Boss’ face on it to indicate his job satisfaction.

Things suddenly take a turn for the worse. Arup gets dumped, Tashi runs afoul of his beautiful colleague’s roughneck of an ex-husband and Nitin, well, comes down with a horrible case of Delhi Belly. The fact that the trio’s flat is always without water provides some of the loudest laughs in the film.

More sinister events are put into motion when Tashi’s girlfriend Sonia (Shenaz Treasurywala), an air hostess, hands him a mysterious package she picked at the airport at the request of a friend, to be delivered to its intended recipient. Fans of Guy Ritchie & Quentin Tarantino films would be quick to realize that the package is the McGuffin and thus it’s sorta crucial that there is some mix up delivering it for the film to work. A series of unpleasant developments sets our boys up against a gangster, played to perfection by Vijay Raaz. By this time the plot has sucked in Tashi’s colleague Menaka (Poorna Jagannathan), the trio’s landlord and a slimy jeweller played by that brilliant character actor Rajendra Sethi (remember him as the ‘Sansani’ reporter in ‘Oye Lucky, Lucky Oye’?).

The screenplay by Akshat Verma is clearly inspired by Guy Ritchie films and perhaps the biggest leaf it picks is to introduce conversational chemistry between the lead characters. Tashi, Arup and Nitin speak that peculiar Delhi lingo that’s random, zippy and (ahem) robustly profane. It’s not exactly Hinglish but, as the certificate says, mostly English with a bit of Hindi. Acoustically speaking, the dialogue evokes our own desi version of the cockney sound in Ritchie films.

Watching ‘Delhi Belly’, I was reminded of Krishna DK & Raj Nidimoru’s excellent ‘99’, a superior crime caper because it was quieter, had better stakes and featured more fleshed out characters. But as far as capers go, I suppose audiences prefer quirks over depth and a capacity for going over the top. And that kinda says something about Aamir Khan’s knack of helming successful productions. You have to hand it to that guy. If this film doesn’t work for you, wait till you see him slip into his disco shoes and butt pads & try telling me that wasn’t even mildly funny.

Taare Zameen Par - A Review (* * * *)

‘Taare Zameen Par’ is possibly the definitive moviegoing experience of this year. Given that a banal offering like ‘Om Shanti Om’ has emerged as the year’s top draw, its refreshing to see a film weaved around ideas instead of six packs. Working on a script by Amole Gupta, Aamir Khan’s directorial debut is a victory of spirit. Few stories this year have been told so fearlessly, with conviction and with the kind of imagination that even rubs onto the credits. Fewer still have managed the task of being instructive yet warmly familiar at the same time.

Haven’t we all come across a Ishaan Awasthi (Darsheel Safary)? A third grader who’s forever lost in the world outside the classroom window, hoping that the walls would collapse to let it in. I knew him. Heck, I was him. And I grew up hearing the same things Ishaan hears. But Ishaan is also dyslexic. If you don’t know what dyslexia ‘really’ means, don’t google it yet. Let this film show you. It’s good at it. Suffice it to say that Ishaan finds it difficult to have a favourable relationship with his textbooks, preferring to stay in the colourful worlds that find their way into his drawings.

I suspect the real reason why Khan & Gupta use dyslexia is to show how our expectations of our children are without regard for their individual capacities or interests. It isn’t that Ishaan’s parents don’t care. It’s just that they, like many other parents, have been oriented to accept a straitjacket approach to education. And if Ishaan can’t perform in it, it has to be an attitude problem. Maybe, in today’s age of information, its too incredible to believe that dyslexia in a child could go unnoticed. But the film presents this possibility with such elan & subtlety that we buy it. Khan even fits in a clever song that parodies the numbing effect of being part of the rat race. When you’re obsessed with the thought of keeping your child ahead of the competition, his/her problems become that much harder to notice.

And so Ishaan is packed off to a boarding school and here too the film makes a wonderful observation. Sending your child to boarding school is one thing, but to send him with the impression that he needs to be straightened out is murder. Ishaan quickly falls out of favour with his teachers and shuts himself in a shell, hurtling towards certain doom. Enter Ram Shankar Nikumbh (Aamir Khan), a substitute Art teacher so cool, he could pass off as a VJ. He quickly discovers that Ishaan needs help and we see him become the proverbial ray of hope.

Has there been another film this year with as many perfect scenes? Consider, for example, the meeting between Nikumbh and Ishaan’s parents. The exchange of dialogue is laden with meaning and gently conveys where parents go wrong when it comes to their children. When Ishaan’s father (Vipin Sharma) confronts Nikumbh again, notice the delicacy with which Nikumbh illustrates what it means to be a better father. There is that slightest hint that Nikumbh is expressing what he may have expected to hear from his own father. Notice how Khan chooses to end that scene. Or consider how Nikumbh, faced with the daunting task of rebuilding Ishaan’s confidence, cleverly involves the entire class into a discussion about dyslexia which features, not Ishaan, but Einstein, Edison & Abhishek Bachchan. Last, but not the least, here’s a film that uses its songs with innovation, not as interludes but as dramatic ways of making points. Special praise must be set aside for ‘Kholo Kholo’ not only for its music and lyrics but also for how beautifully it accompanies a scene where children and teachers come together for an art competition. Towards the end of the song, when Ishaan and Nikumbh regard each other, we get a payoff like none other.

I admire Amole Gupta’s writing for steering clear of making extreme caricatures. Even as Ishaan’s parents grow frustrated with him, we’re still able to see their good intentions. His mother (Tisca Chopra) is that balance of sweetness & austerity we relate to. Ishaan’s brother (Sachet Engineer ), who’s a brilliant student, never lets the gap in their grades undermine their relationship. He’s kind-hearted and encourages his brother’s imagination. The principal of the boarding school, who’s uncertain at first towards Nikhumb’s strategy for helping Ishaan, finally shows the courage we expect of a good educator. And there’s Rajan (Tanay Cheda), a friend who shows care and affection when it’s needed the most.

I celebrate ‘Taare Zameen Par’ for telling a simple story with immense feeling, and in such a way that it becomes something more. It encourages a certain depth in our perception of children. It also reminded me that good teachers invariably happen to be those who are able to draw on their own childhood experiences while instructing children. It is a celebration of childhood & tells us that education, more than anything, is a nurturing process. Watching it, I discovered that when I fell in love with English, my fifth grade teacher Mrs. Lalitha Krishnan had a lot to do with it. Mrs. Krishnan, wherever she is, would find a million reasons to cheer this film.