This one’s literally Bee-grade. A huge honeycomb suddenly erupts, the supposed comedy disrupts, practically every joke and gag is manically abrupt.
Truly to bee or not to bee is the question.
That’s Priyadarshan’s Bhagam Bhag in the director’s patented style of trouser-dropping humour and bone-breaking slapstick.
Like it or not, the effort keeps coming apart at the seams, discourtesy a caboodle of wacked-out characters, plus those clunky passages of dialogue yelled out at a volume guaranteed to shatter glass. Alas.
|Akshay Kumar, Govinda and Paresh Rawal in a still from Bhagam Bhag|
Do carry ear-plugs, then, to reduce the impact of the oddballs and odder belles from a travelling musical drama company.
Two of its pivotal players (Akshay Kumar-Govinda) have just driven the shivering-quivering heroine (one-dance wonder Tanushree Dutta) far away from the premises. Why, why?
Apparently, Quivering Kumri didn’t approve of their bouts of lewd heave-teasing. Sensible girl.
Now, a new leading lady has to be firmed since the company’s Saroj Khanesque shows are about to kick off in London, which incidentally looks suspiciously like Oxford town. Uh oh.
Nautch girl baliye, indeed. Next: a very zapped-out femme (Lara Dutta, woody) is located to play the abhinetri. So mercy be, the shows go on. Or do they?
Not really, since the master of ceremonies (Paresh Rawal) often runs off to the loo and is eye-boggled on being confronted with more crazies than in a mental zoo. Pooh.
Just for the record, there are drug mafia meanies (topped by the ageless Sharat Saxena, of course), a space cadet (Razzak Khan, ditto), a whiskyholic (Shakti Kapoor, egads), and a certain Mr Manubhai Gandhi who sets off double entendres about Munnabhai-style Gandhigiri.
To be sure, Neeraj Vohra must have created all these cliched chappies in his sleep. Bore snore.