SCANDAL Nahi FARCE hai!
What starts out as a horror mystery story of a dad who talks to his dead child turns into a hilarious sexual escapade for not one or two characters, but all of them. Hilarious because they are not feeling it, but looking into the camera and acting out orgasms with lots of help from attempted orgasmic sounds.
Manav Kaul, whatever inspired him to ‘act’ in this movie, no one will know. But if he had as much fun as we did watching him open his jaws really wide and bite into the heroine’s shoulder, then I suppose everything is forgivable.
The trouble with so many young women wanting to prove that they have powers of seduction (not only for the hero on screen, but for the hormonal males in the audience as well), is that they end up looking comical. Their gyrations are learnt from Bollywood Item Number classes in the neighborhood dance studios, their hip thrusts are faked and the director does not realise that when heroine jumps into the arms of the hero in slow motion, and she’s wearing an ill fitting bikini, the extra flesh keeps bouncing out of sync with the mood they’re desperately trying to create.
The mood is of course hardly elevated by enunciating simple words like ‘devil’ and ‘smell’ as ‘Day-will’ and ‘Ismayell’ without the ‘I’. Titilation is the expected effect on the audience when the lusty man inhales the perfume of the woman after ripping off her clothes. It dissolves into laughter instead when he says, ‘Aaaah! Your ismayell. I love it!’
They even have Manav Kaul attempt his worst ever acting scene when they dress him up in eye mask, suspenders (tight pants) and a bow tie (no shirt), make him sit in front of a computer and kiss the screen as an attempt to have cyber sex with a silly looking lass who thrusts her derriere at the computer and slaps herself.
You want to slap the art director real hard because they have the poor heroine painted in Gold in an item number where she’s panting so hard (presumably in orgasmic delight) and mouthing words like ‘Labo-h se laga-h le-h, main pants ban jaaoon teri-h’.
Wait a minute, did she say, ‘Pants’? It takes several giggles to realise she’s saying, ‘Pyaas’. If you’re thirsty for a story beyond the ugly clothes that are ripped off every three minutes, and the orgasmic sound track, then you will wonder what happened to the dead child giving darshan to the dad. Never mind. This scandal is not even worth a whimper.