The turd part
You see Mithun. You make way. As does this movie. It flashes back to mid ‘70s. Mithun da (Ayeeessh!) is the disco dancer. “I am a disco dancer” is the song on his lips, and his profession to the girlfriend’s dad: “Zindagi mera gaana. Mein kisika deewana (Life’s singing for me. I’m also crazy about someone).”mumbai Updated: Nov 05, 2010 01:27 IST
You see Mithun. You make way. As does this movie. It flashes back to mid ‘70s. Mithun da (Ayeeessh!) is the disco dancer. “I am a disco dancer” is the song on his lips, and his profession to the girlfriend’s dad: “Zindagi mera gaana. Mein kisika deewana (Life’s singing for me. I’m also crazy about someone).”
That father is Prem, Prem Chopra. The baldie isn’t too impressed. He hands over an empty suitcase, asks the poor boy to make Rs 5 lakh before he can claim his daughter’s hand. Mithunda says he sold halwa over weekends (Dance Dance). He sold coconuts during day (Agneepath). But he couldn’t make those lakhs and win his girl. Another Disco Dancer ditty, ‘Yaad aa raha hai’ plays in the background, and as a full-on track. The spoof alludes to a minor phase in Bollywood, when Hindi movies had momentarily lost their mind. Mithun da willingly plays fine sport, pokes fun at himself.
This sequence could be a skit of its own, on MTV, Channel V, Laughter Challenge; if it hasn’t appeared already. So could the rest of Golmaal 3.
The film picks up all its humour from Bollywood alone. Practically every dialogue, almost every scene, refers to another film, or a celeb — some of them who’re in the movie, and some who are not. “Kareena is on the Saif side”, Arshad is ‘waris’ (inheritor), not a Warsi (his actual surname), Shahid Kapur is the ‘kamina’ (from the movie Kaminey)… The cutesy villain (Johnny Lever) is called Pritam (after the popular music composer).
He enviably suffers from a short-term memory loss. By the end of this flick, you wish, so could you. Or maybe you do. But do imagine a film industry screening of this comedy and all celebs in the house, rotfl (rolling on the floor laughing), as it were. It’s truly that filmi. And for most parts hardly as funny for all. The cast and crew certainly had a laugh filming it. They even held an extended discussion on the picture Ghajini for us. Great for them.
How about telling a story of your own? Well that again, I guess, can be outsourced to ‘70s Bollywood: Basu Chatterjee’s Khatta Meetha (1979), I suppose. Mithunda and his sweetheart once (Ratna Pathak Shah) are single still. Kareena Kapoor plays cupid, and gets them and their families together.
Old man fathers three adopted monsters: Ajay Devgn (can’t resist cracking people’s fingers), Shreyas Talpade (stammers for our pleasure). Old lady likewise mothers another set of aged orphans: Arshad Warsi, Kunal Khemu (in top form), Tusshar Kapoor (more moronic than mute). The two groups, supremely high on energy, hate each other. Another set of comic villains back the two gangs. Those buffoons have separate stories of their own. The missing link is the movie itself. No one anchors it.
Golmaal was a sleeper hit of 2006. Since then, several ensemble comedies (Dhamaal etc), some of them put together by this film’s team as well (Sunday, All The Best) have tried to repeat the run. Golmaal 2 (second-rate stuff) apparently raked in big bucks. Such success can boost anyone’s over-confidence. Which explains this turd part.
Close to three hours is long time in anyone’s life. It’s longer still to pack into a screenplay. The filmmakers have six main actors to juggle with, and as many side comedians to lend parts to. There’s a deadline (Diwali) to meet. Never mind the narrative, they’d be happy with as any corny antics and dialogues with whoever’s available. You can cheat shots for actors not present. Shoddiness shows.
They attempt every possible stunt. For an entertainment-starved audience, maybe, even this will do. After all, “Jab Harsha hai toh Bhogle hai. Jab Asha hai toh Bhosle hai…” What? Whatever!