Movie reviews often inform us that we are about to be dragged kicking and screaming into the ‘reality.’ So ‘Dev D’ was praised for being ‘realistic,’ and ‘Delhi Belly’ is being dubbed as THE movie which will do away with our naive adolescence and bring in full maturity.
So naturally I had to up and watch the thing. A minute into the film I came face to face with close shots of cockroaches crawling over leftover food, and of a room so dirty that you would not wish your dog to live in it. I wanted to stop right then, but we are all a bit masochistic, right?
The dialogue is peppered with cuss words, with abuses, and at one point with a close shot of semi-liquid potty being dished on a table with due ceremony. I should pat myself here for not puking, but that was only because I turned my face away for half a minute.
The entire film is peppered with dialogues that refer freely to sexual parts and sexual acts, the songs are bawdy and mindless, with one ‘Bhaag DK Bose…’ explicitly tailored to sing out a common expletive.
I have no idea why filmmakers feel that including such dialogues adds reality to the film; I can’t imagine why reviewers would agree. It is as if those who do not use abusive language in their everyday speech (and they are a sizable bunch!) – and if I may, a class better than those who would use such words – do not inhabit reality or that at least the dominant reality is the one which is sexually explicit and verbally dirty.
Are we to assume from these ‘realistic’ movies that the decent people on earth who practice general decorum in their language and behaviour are part of some parallel world not connected to the ‘grim truth of today’? Bah! This turns the general world into some schizophrenic’s fantasy land.
Or are we to pretend that when we speak cuss-free, non-suggestive language, we are not being ourselves? That we are being hypocritically blind to the reality and acquiring super-Freudian suppression of our basic instinct – which invariably turns out to do one thing or another with sexism and swearing.
Now that I am unable to decide upon the matter above, let’s move to the actors. Yes, Imran Khan can pull a poker-faced role as required in his role of the dedicated journalist who gives away nothing and takes in much, but he hardly seemed to be doing anything more than running around Delhi either clad in a burqa or hidden under face-disfiguring make up. But perhaps he cannot be blamed for the deadpan expression; his character had more depth in the unbearably shallow movie ‘Break Ke Baad’. Despite his bad dialogue deliveries, he has something adorable in him, a quality that is very much like his uncle superstar Aamir Khan. Then Shenaz Treasurywala did a good job of not doing much, which was what her role was supposed to do. Abhinay Deo, the director must be happy with her trendy haircut. Though I wish Niharika Khan (costume), who did such a good job with Poorna Jagannathan in the movie, had spared a few more clothes for the actor who spent over hundred minutes in one set of spray painted skirt blouse.
However, Poorna made up for all the kiddish acting and that look of cluelessness that used to settle over every other actor after 30 seconds on the screen. Her ‘bohemian sex-appeal’ has won over critics and the audience alike. And none of those 40 years showed anywhere on her petite presence in the entire movie. In fact, she seemed perfect to overtake any guy on the way to the altar, like Tashi the journalist.
Delhi Belly is being labeled as a ‘black comedy’. It rather tends to stick to toilet humour than any other kind, and going by the popularity of toilet humour, no wonder it has earned almost triple its cost in just three weeks. Everyone wants to watch this experiment of Aamir Khan’s. If you are one of them, then be advised not to watch it over dinner and skip the Coke and popcorn.