There’s no other way of saying it. Piku is the most disgusting film I’ve ever seen.
So, sue me.
Seriously, folks, what is so funny about taking a dump, or in this case, not taking a dump? Before everybody leaps down my throat, let me make one thing clear: I am not dissing Amitabh Bachchan.
If anything, I’m a huge fan. I tear up each time I watch him die cradled in his mother’s lap in Deewar. I break into serious sobs every time I hear him say: “Tujhse door reh kar mujhe kabhi neend nahi aayi, ma.”
I fight a lump in my throat every time I watch a brooding Amitabh Bachchan singing ‘Aaye tum yaad mujhe’ in Mili.
I have seen Amar Akbar Anthony a gazillion times. But that doesn’t stop me from doubling up with laughter whenever Amitabh Bachchan lurches drunkenly in front of a mirror and has a conversation with himself. No matter how many times I hear him say, “Dekh thobda aayine main jake dekh, kitna mara tereko”, I can’t help but crack up.
But Piku? When I heard that Amitabh Bachchan won the National Award for the film on Monday, I was reminded of how I cringed with embarrassment as I struggled through it last spring. Where’s the humour in an old man’s bowel movements? Call me fuddy-duddy, but scatological humour about defecation, urination and flatulence grosses me out.
When Deepika Padokone discusses the colour of her father’s waste as she settles down for a romantic dinner, you wonder if it’s too much information. This was no “detached, Bunuel-esque nihilism”, as one reviewer put it. It was just totally gross. And don’t even get me started on the time Amitabh Bachchan leaves a message for his daughter in the office on the status of his bowel movements. Haven’t they heard of boundaries?
Even my 20-year-old Indian-American niece, who indiscriminately loves all Hindi movies, turned to me half-way through the film and threw her hands up in frustration at the crappy humour. We got the whole slice-of-life, father-daughter thing. But somewhere around the 20th potty joke in just an hour, we were, like, enough already.
What is it about toilet humour that appeals to people? It is one of the lowest forms of wit. I get it that kids love jokes about potty and pee pee. But you’d think they’d be over it by the time they turned 10.
Of course, the idea isn’t to rain on Mr Bachchan’s parade. Congratulations on the National Award, Mr Bachchan.