Khwahish - Movie Review

What do you say about a 25-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful. And brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the Beatles. And Me.

He: What the hell makes you so smart?
She: I wouldn’t go for coffee with you
He: Listen-I wouldn’t ask you
She: That is what makes you stupid

I am smart and poor.

and the greatest of them all...
'Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.'

Sounds familiar? Yes. You get it right. They are from Erich Segal’s most popular bestseller, Love Story that has in it some of the most loved lines around the world, in modern literature. A book that has the largest following all over. The love story of Oliver Barret 4 and Jennifer Cavillari.

Want to know how bad and feeble you can make these wonderful lines sound in Hindi? Go watch Khwahish. Wait, don’t watch it. Utterly disgraceful act it was, to make such a poor copy of a masterpiece. The movie lacks what the protagonists of a love story must inherently share. Chemistry.

I am not the greatest of the fans of Love Story but as I went through the embarrassment the movie was, my heart went for Erich Segal. If he had a look at the movie, he sure would be wincing in his seat all through.

Reaching home, after watching the movie, I hit to my book shelf and pulled out my copy of the book to browse through it. Then I feared the possibility of the faces in Khwahish springing to life in my mind’s eye, as I turn the pages of the book, spoil the sheer relish of reading and re-reading such a beautiful book. Better sense prevailed. Reason, as they say, soon regained its rightful throne and I replaced the book in its original place. Probably I shall not touch it for quite a good while from now, until the painful movie fades away from my memory. I shall allow time, the great healer; take its course to help me forget.

It is good that the movie hit the theatres at last. At last Mllika will shut up, we hope in despair. She has been painting the town red for quite some time now making a noise about her 17 kissing scenes and the number of Clorets she and her costar had to have for obvious reasons. They stink.

Let us move to the actors. Okay okay, let us kid ourselves for a while by calling them actors.

First the loud mouth Mallika. In spite of her, it would be unfair to say that she did not shine in parts. The parts in question are the exposed areas of her body which she liberally shows and what accounts to a great deal of her on screen time. She appallingly lacks the wisecracking repartee that defined the heroine of Love Story, Jenny. Instead, what one sees is, she balling out long sermons endlessly about everything under the sun at the drop of a hat. When she is not speaking about environment protection, she is talking of woman’s liberation. When she is not imparting pearls of wisdom about the philosophy of life, she is making the hero, whose sole purpose of marrying her was to get down to the job, know something about the psychology of men and woman. She also feels very strongly towards Social reforms and equal rights for women and all that sort of thing.

Let us proceed further.

In one of the first lines of the move, the heroine gives away the hero entirely. She calls him dumb. There were no truer words uttered in the movie than this. So you are one of the incurable optimists of the world if you expect Himanshu Whatever to be anything other than dumb. He is supposed to be India’s answer to Oliver Barret. In any case, who asked the question? I remember a serial I used to watch when I was a child, which goes by the name Giant Robot. The robot in the serial if given a chance would, by a good mile, give Himanshu a run for his money. Stone faced. Wooden expressions. One of the better things the heroine of the movie does other than her stripping act is to ask the hero to never cry. Good thing she also takes ’Vaada’. Had he cried, the audience would be laughing their asses off in their seats.

Enter CID. I mean, Shivaji Satam. He seems to have taken his role in the popular TV serial CID a bit too seriously. I faintly remember seeing him spying over something I presently can’t recollect. Don’t bother to watch the movie to find out what the insignificant thing was. I guess it was his son, the Hero. He (our CID and not the hero) carries a perpetual frown and a constipated look through out the movie.

Ullas. Not the restaurant in Bangalore. It is the heroine’s father we are talking of. He owns a poultry farm which on last count had 5000 hens and cocks. He himself looks like a hen whose feathers have been mercifully plucked. Or, must we say, a cock whose feathers have been plucked? Just for record sake, he has a compulsive urge to get drunk in the loo.

The rest of the cast is inconsequential.

We shall move on to the supposedly interesting parts of the movie. The much advertised condom scene. It is passable. For those of you who are not aware of the price of the thing, the movie proves to be quite informative. Finally the heroine ends up buying the 20s pack which costs 70 bucks. Later during the movie, is shared with you, their little secret as to why they need the 20s pack at one go. They are blowing huge balloons by the dozen and playing with them. One of the many utilities that the thing offers. Blow Balloons.

Also seen is some unwarranted publicity done for the already world famous touring destination Kerala. God’s own country. Later if you check out the credits, you come across the fact that the director’s name is Govind Menon. The surname does ring a bell. Mr. Govind Menon, you are no Pheno-Menon.

Then there is this confusion of sorts. The hero calls his father 'Sir'. The heroine calls her father 'Ullas'. Why? Because it is his name. The heroine calls the hero 'Sethji'. God knows why. Hero is forced to call his father-in-law Ullas.

For those of you, who plan to watch the movie for the sexually explicit scenes that the promos boast of, think again. I am sure your town offers a B grade movie hall that shows C grade porn movies. For Bangalorians, check out the Rajeshwari theatre on Airport road.

Last and the Least, if you are wondering why after mentioning so much, I have not mentioned a word about the greatly hyped 17 kissing scenes, the ones that are supposed to usher in the new age Hindi cinema, the lesser said about them, the better.