The setting is a red light area. As soon as the opening credits have rolled out, the sex workers break into an impromptu dance.
As the film progresses, the place is often referred to as ‘keechad’ and other such derogatory terms. At one point, one character says a dialogue comparing ‘land and lady’ (both should be exploited for maximum profit). The tone is consistently crude.
We meet our hero, the baby-faced Chandu (Paras Arora) who has just won a college match. He and his friends decide to go to the red-light area to celebrate and see some “item shitem” (because that’s the done thing, right?).
And this is what is so crucially objectionable about the film. Just a few scenes back, the film had a montage that showed children being kidnapped and sold to brothels. Now, they play fun music with these boys hop-skipping to a brothel as if they’re on their way to a garden picnic. Bizarre!
Once there, girls are lined up for their benefit, but Chandu falls for Rajjo, the queen bee. I believe the song she was singing when he saw her was, “Dekho yahaan kya kya khilone hain.” The most sought-after prostitute there, he doesn’t mind paying money just to talk to her.
Chandu starts bunking college to be with her, and their love develops. The film then trails their journey as they battle a slimy businessman who wants Rajjo for himself, a slimier politico and the slimiest dance bar owner this side of town.
No wait, I am making it sound better than it is.
Absurdities follow, topped only by the unreal finale that will have you rub your eyes.
Kangna Ranaut, currently on top of her game with Krrish 3’s success, probably didn’t expect the film to turn out this bad. Even the new boy isn’t bad at all.
The problem is the filmmaking. Vishwas Patil (an award-winning writer) makes a film that’s unbelievably out-of-sorts. The scenes are cut abruptly, the dialogue is crude, there’s no sense of characterization, and the dubbing is constantly off.
The filmmaking style is ancient (you have a character break into a song to answer a question, and the heroine suddenly in full costume for an impromptu dance performance). The incongruent background core has to be heard to be believed.
We don’t know what to make of Rajjo. We understand that she was sold to the brothel as a child and she learnt dance here to perform in mujras. We understand she’s feisty and wants to leave the place. But why, with her mediocre dancing capability, does she call herself a “mahaan kalakaar”? And if the character is that of a highly talented artist, then why does the choreography and dancing not reflect it?
And this is a minor glitch in a film that’s catastrophically bad. Save for Kangna Ranaut’s arresting screen presence and earnestness, this film has nothing going for it.
Rating: One star