• 

  Manisha Lakhe

  Read full review Hide full review

  

  0

  

  0

Weddings are a great way to start a movie. The camera takes you through the preparations in the kitchen, the women dressing up, the men eating or drinking, kids running up and down the stairs... In Tanu Weds Manu, the camera stops at the father of the bride, who is listening to the radio still dressed in his lungi and vest. And very very nicely we are informed that the dad is still not dressed up …

Weddings are a great way to start a movie. The camera takes you through the preparations in the kitchen, the women dressing up, the men eating or drinking, kids running up and down the stairs... In Tanu Weds Manu, the camera stops at the father of the bride, who is listening to the radio still dressed in his lungi and vest. And very very nicely we are informed that the dad is still not dressed up because groom might have just landed in Delhi.

Madhavan is the NRI groom, obedient son, ready to 'see' brides, who lands at the Trivedi doorstep. We are treated to the usual rib the groom, appreciate each other's family values thing and wham! Just as the dad wasn't ready, we are offered another stop-in-your-track tid-bit.

Aha! So this a film that uses 'unexpectedness' as a character. Very good. So you let the analyst inside you settle down and begin to enjoy the film.

And you do. The bride-to-be is reluctant! And the groom-to-be is lovestruck! Between the two is a brilliant actor called Deepak Dobriyal who is named 'Pappi' and is the general dogsbody or maybe a poor relative who looks after Madhavan's parents (which is a common thing in the North), who is the strong, silent, smitten Madhavan’s sounding board, and the audience’s reaction mechanism. At one point in the film where Madhavan is ready to sacrifice his love, Pappi reacts like the audience: ‘What kind of man are you? Taking the woman you love to that uncouth man!’

Yes, shades of Hum De Chuke Sanam, but nothing like it. Madhavan is relaxed, his reactions are subtle, he does not suddenly break into dance or start yelling or emoting simply because there is need to do so. And the strong silent act is perfect foil to the bold, brassy, revolt-against-anything-parents say act of Kangna Ranaut.

She has been given awesome costumes to wear, she sways like heroines of yesteryear as she walks has been given dialogue with so much sass, you know you have a grin pasted on your face because the dialogue is effective and scandalous and shocking. But then Kangna speaks it in her own voice.

That’s like finding sand in your pav bhaji, like hearing chalk falter on the blackboard, like seeing someone disembowel fowl, like feeling the nails of a cat you are rescuing from a tree dig deeper into your shoulders, like someone has hammered an icicle directly into your open nerve-ending...

Yes, she has a voice that will make milk curdle. And you wonder why no one has ever asked her to take voice lessons or have the dialogue dubbed.

The movie gets a tad repetitive (with shaadi events) and the part where Jimmy Shergill overdoes his goonda bit is intolearble in many ways. But still, the unexpectedness of situations, the volte-face, the surprises are very cleverly planted. And the romance may not be sigh-inducing or Roman Holiday like, but it is there.

The music is good and the Rangrez song has the best timing of any song out there. I enjoyed the many situations and came away with a smile plastered on my face. We forgive many directorial errors when the story keeps you going. Unless Ms Ranaut’s nails-in-her-mouth speech drives you out of the theater, this movie is a good fun watch.