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DIRECTOR: Mohit Suri
STARRING: Emraan Hashmi, Vidya Balan and Rajkummar Yadav
RATING: 1.5 stars
There is a lot of pain in the movie. So much pain that I felt it. In my head. The kind of pain that the entire strip of Panadol won’t be able to fix. My temples are still pounding.
Hamari Adhuri Kahani is a film about a woman who is in love with a rich man but feels dutiful towards her abusive husband. Decent storyline lost in cheesy, very cheesy, no no no, cheesiness-raised-to-the-power-infinity dialogues that I feel I have devoured the entire Cheesecake Factory at MOE. Take this for instance: ‘Hari ki laash par main apna mahal nahi banaungi.’ Or ‘Woh apne vaasna ki keemat apne pati ki khoon se chukayegi.’ For a moment, I thought I slept through the movie and missed a character called Vaasna. And why her husband would shed blood was so beyond me? It took me 15 minutes to understand it wasn’t a character but the emotion of lust they were talking about.
The dialogues are so difficult that the Oxford Hindi dictionary is having a complex. It’s almost like, "Hey, let’s think of some really fancy words; umm Kalpana, okay.. Kainaat…yeah nice…umm…mrigtrishna!! What does it mean? Doesn’t matter; just string them all in a sentence for the effect!!
Vidya Balan and her ateet surrounded her so badly that it crippled her from falling in love even with the kissy king Emraan Hashmi. Sheh!! Saara macho image kharab kar diya!! I somehow survived that only to stumble upon such regressive clichés that made this film look like Ekta Kapoor serials on steroids. There was a certain breed of flowers the fragrance of which makes Emraan Hashmi go cuckoo in his head. Then there was a lamp in Vidya Balan’s mandir that goes off signifying a tragedy happening simultaneously in a land far far away. And my favourite- a Mangalsutra!!! IT’S AN EMRAAN HASHMI FILM. GIVE ME KAMASUTRA, NOT MANGALSUTRA!!!!!!
The film also boggles your mind around time and space. People move from Dubai-Kolkata-Simla-Mumbai-Bastar faster than I could ever make it to Meena Bazar from Dubai Media City. Speaking of locations, there is one particular scene where Vidya Balan leaves Emraan Hashmi in Dubai. The camera follows her as she walks lugging her suitcase on a road running through a deserted desert. Catch the frigging Metro woman or take a cab. That road doesn’t go to the airport, it goes to Ras Al Khaimah.
One can’t do much with such stock characters oozing corn in name of lines. Hence the performances were also just about average. Emraan-Bhatt-Naturally-Hashmi didn’t feel any word but only lips. Alas those scenes were chopped. So he has a new kinky quirk in the movie. He wants to take a picture of Vasudha every time he sees her. Such subtle Samsung placement, god, I couldn’t even notice!!
Vidya Balan’s forever moist eyes were forever rolling. Like the only brief she got was to showcase all the pain, all the hurt and all the fear in just one second. Basically she has covered all the acting, all the emotions Katrina Kaif could ever cover in her entire movie career. She cried so much in the film that one of my friends Deepak doubted if they had a separate budget for glycerin.
Rajkummar Yadav plays the psycho husband like how all filmy psycho husbands should be: grumpy, suspicious, violent and unkempt.
In its defense, it could have been a good film. There are many women in our country who are in an abusive marriage and need to break free without any sense of guilt and shame. It’s great the film addresses that. Only if they could show it without a Vidya Balan relentlessly clinging to her mangalsutra or mouthing lines like ‘Main ek pyasa musafir hoon jo something something registaan pe something something…aur tum ek…something ho…jaise…that difficult Urdu word for mirage that I can’t remember…’ Say what???????
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