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I must confess I do not go to the theatres often to see Bollywood movies, not because I don’t appreciate the effort these guys put into their two hour fantasies, but I find I lack the patience to sit through what really should work out as half hour scripts. So it was with considerable enthusiasm that I went with a couple of friends to see what everyone has been raving about Tanu Weds Manu, Returns. Surely given the rave reviews, it would be entertaining and fun and worth the Rs 400 plus we spent on each ticket in one of South Delhi’s plush cinema halls.
The first scene had the duo, Tanu and Manu sitting across a table at what one thought was a marriage counsellor’s office. The person in the middle was a doctor, but then again perhaps this was a super efficient marriage counsellor who had brought in a psychiatrist to evaluate a clearly dysfunctional marriage. The room was overwhelmingly grim, but then what the heck, there has to be an element of drama, its Bollywood dammit one thought and relaxed back in the seat with popcorn and a cold drink. All seemed good and one guffawed with the hall over the couple squabbling---ha ha, thats quite funny---! It wasn’t really, but then we had come to have a good time, and a good time we would have.
All seemed fine, and we laughed louder when the man started shouting at his wife who seemed to be having fun provoking him ---or at least so he thought---and so did we….Anyways, it all ended crazily in more ways than one, and we realised that this interview was actually taking place in a loony asylum, as men in white uniforms came in, and bundled the man off as ‘mad’. Why should a bad marriage be resolved in a lunatic asylum, perhaps only the director can say. And why should a man shouting at his wife be given electric shocks, perhaps again only the director can say. Of course mind you, the last fact alone is probably responsible for making the movie a hit amongst women, many of whom might like their significant others to be in the same place!
But from then the pace of the movie changed, as did the munching of the popcorn. Wide eyed one tried to keep track of the wife ---the beautiful Kangana Ranaut as she travels from London to Kanpur to wherever---catches up with a host of weird boyfriends, has at least one new lumpen kind drooling after her, shocks her parents and family by coming out in a towel to meet her sisters prospective in-laws, and laughing crazily when they walk out. She fits the ‘back from London’ stereotype that Bollywood often uses to justify drink consuming (and she sure does, walking around the village often with a glass of whisky in her hand), being easy with men, wearing outlandish clothes or no clothes at all---- as if somehow being in the west makes a woman lose all sense of propriety and probably what Bollywood likes to project as ‘morals.’! I mean coming out of the bath in a towel to meet visitors----now that takes some imagination and full marks to the director and his fantasies.
So most of the time this Kangana, dressed to kill, looking gorgeous, spends her time in the movie being the proverbial ‘back from London’ crazy. And in case one loses sight of the fact, every now and again she reminds you that she is in love with her husband, yes yes, the same man she got admitted into a mental bin and walked away from---London to Kanpur remember----leaving him to perish as it were. Oh yes she does love him, because while boarding the flight to India she calls some relative of her husband (we never really get to know who this guy is except being the light relief(?) back in the village, and directing him to fly to London and release her husband. That is caring ‘back from London’ style.
And her husband R.Madhavan who one would have thought was a good actor, remains the silent presence throughout the movie; not sure about divorcing his wife; carrying this strange goofy expression that probably is supposed to pass for intense acting. But he appears as a classical wimp, has nothing to say or stand for, and he returns to India as well to---one assumes--- chase his wife. Well for the most part of the movie he lies around his house, depressed, and we guess pining, saying little, and boring as boring can be. Then somewhere along the way he finds this school---okay college girl---from Haryana, an athlete, short hair, tomboy-ish who bears a striking resemblance to his wife. This is Kangana in her second role, where she speaks Haryanvi (dubbed?) very well, and actually plays the part of perhaps the only convincing character in the movie.
This man then stalks her, literally, follows her around, staring at her, watching her every move. And the movie sort of tells us that stalking is fine, and superfine if the girl being stalked is half your age or less. As she is. And if you persist, she will fall in love with you---she does---and you can get her to marry you. Which she agrees to. But by then the wife has chased her husband down, and determined to prevent the marriage, becomes part of it with a vengeance. Soon, the husband starts staring at her---and then the end is the end that you can see if you still want to watch this absurd, rather silly, badly made, movie.
The man ---this complete wimp (repeating the word for want of another that describes this character)---is a confused, depressive sort, a highly unattractive personality, vacuous and soulless, an unemployed drifter, a stalker, and almost a paedophile...and yet gets two attractive women behind him. Surely the director could have paid more attention to this character, instead of using just the ‘double role’ USP of Kangana to sell the movie?
Well, all one can say at the end is that the company was great, the popcorn could have been better, the drink was nicely chilled, and the seat fairly comfortable. As for the movie---each to his or her own. But a thought about the reviews---what has happened to these critics, have they also sold out to the big bucks?
