It’s the stunt that introduces the hero.
He is pummeling one baddie when another baddie crouching behind him gets a call on his cell. The ring tone is a loud ridiculous dance tune. The poor fellow has a deer-caught-in-headlights expression—will the hero thrash him too, now that his presence has been so raucously revealed?
The hero turns to face baddie # 2 while holding baddie #1 in a vise-like grip. Baddie #2 swallows hard. Hero slaps his palm on his forehead. “Phone uthana!” he barks at him.
Baddie #2 sheepishly takes the phone out and checks who it is. “Kiska hi?” Hero asks.
“Ma sir!” baddie #2 replies.
“Ma ko mera pranam kehna!” the hero says and turns to Baddie # 1. “Ma se yaad aaya, teri ma…”
“Sir!!!!” baddie #2 protests, overcome with scruples now that his mother is on the line.
“Nahi, mein yeh pooch raha tha ki teri ma hi ki guzar gayi?” hero asks baddie #1.
The theater erupts in laughter. At least, I guess it must, if there are more than two people in the theater.
The same baddie # 2 gets another call during a high octane chase scene later. He is hiding with a knife to ambush the hero. But his toe-tapping ring tone gives him away again. The hero now stops and asks him, “Ma ka phone hi?”
Baddie #2 says, “Nahi sir, girlfriend!”
“Girlfriend?” hero asks. He then pats the guy affectionately on the back and moves on. An instant reformation happens to the baddie, who throws away the knife in disgust.
How can you not like a movie which never takes itself seriously, is always affable, and is so funny?
True, Dabangg is a ridiculous movie. Its plot is shallow; narrative is jerky, and logic a little tenuous. But it is not a stupid movie. Not by a long chalk.
It is obvious that new director Abhinav Kashyap knew what he was going for and never took his eyes off that target. He has not made a “gyanvardhak” movie, he admits in an interview. Neither is there anything new. He wanted it to be an easy-going entertainer and that’s what he has delivered.
He and art director Wasiq Khan create a beautifully detailed and highly authentic setting for the movie, complete with the dust, mud, colors, and cow dung cakes of rural UP. The director pays a lot of attention to populating it with authentic looking people too, down to a bored crotch-scratching constable in a political rally.
I liked the director’s light touch. There are no tear jerker moments in the movie –even with one number mother dying. It is reined in and more often than not dealt with a joke. Like the one Salman cracks when visiting his step dad at the hospital. “I met your doctor and he said you have only a few days to live,” he says. “I slapped him hard and immediately your life span increased.”
I notice that Abhinav assisted Mani Ratnam in Yuva. Maybe that explains the Tamil influence. The grammar of this movie is all Tamil—Rajnikanth and the later day contenders to his throne such as Vijay. The rustic tone, the larger-than-life persona of the star, the reverential camaraderie the hero shares with his friends who are obviously poor, lines that are designed to draw crazed reaction from fans, and humor in action sequences all made me sometimes forget that I was watching a Hindi movie.
Which brings me to the most impressive aspect of the movie: boy, is the action out of the world! There are three major action sequences in the movie, each almost 4- 5 minutes long. You should watch them to believe the quality of choreography. Each of them is deft and funny like Jackie Chan’s, bloody like Japanese action comics, graceful like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and full of special effects like Matrix.
Allegedly, it took them 60 days to shoot the action sequences alone and it shows. Action director S. Vijayan is on his way to an Oscar if he continues like this!
Mahesh Limaye’s cinematography more than supports the sometimes fantastic action sequences, like the one in the climax. Pranav Dhiwar’s editing is very slick in the action sequences, but I thought it could’ve been better in the other parts of the movie.
What struck me (as it did in Rajneeti), was the absence of a strong ethical core. Back in those days, the mother used to be that—remember Nirupa Roy who used to insist on integrity and honesty in her sons? Remember how those movies had a righteous hero with a just cause and a completely wicked villain? Those kind of clear dichotomies seem to be extinct now. Rajneeti glorified mob-like behavior of the “family.” In Dabangg, righteousness is altogether missing. Everybody is wrong—only the degrees differ. It is a celebration of lawlessness.
So really, the hero has no moral high ground to do whatever he does. There is no reason to like him. He carries grudges from childhood which directs his actions. He is arrogant and corrupt. His relationships with his family members are highly dysfunctional. And yet he fills up the movie, compels you to be convinced about him, and enjoy his antiques. That is what they call star power, I guess. I liked Salman in Wanted. And in this movie, I adored him. What charisma this guy has!
Sonakshi Sinha is so unlike any of the current heroines. She comes across as very confident. And oh my God, Dimple is adorable! She is able to fit so well into any role she plays—be it in Dil Chahta Hi, or Being Cyrus or this movie. Wonder why she doesn’t do more work. Sonu Sood is very watchable. Om Puri does a brilliant cameo role. It is so difficult to ignore VInod Khanna’s gorgeousness, even at this age. He does a great job as the step dad.
Here’s a little game for you: can you find out the number of Hindi/Tamil/English film references that are there in the movie? To start you off, here’s my list:
a. Sun glass flipping: clear Rajnikanth trick
b. Mote wale is taraf, patle wale us taraf, aur jo fit hi, mere peechey: I don’t even have to say the reference
c. Climax: The setting, music, and sunny wide angle shots on an endless plain are all clearly Wild Western
He is pummeling one baddie when another baddie crouching behind him gets a call on his cell. The ring tone is a loud ridiculous dance tune. The poor fellow has a deer-caught-in-headlights expression—will the hero thrash him too, now that his presence has been so raucously revealed?
The hero turns to face baddie # 2 while holding baddie #1 in a vise-like grip. Baddie #2 swallows hard. Hero slaps his palm on his forehead. “Phone uthana!” he barks at him.
Baddie #2 sheepishly takes the phone out and checks who it is. “Kiska hi?” Hero asks.
“Ma sir!” baddie #2 replies.
“Ma ko mera pranam kehna!” the hero says and turns to Baddie # 1. “Ma se yaad aaya, teri ma…”
“Sir!!!!” baddie #2 protests, overcome with scruples now that his mother is on the line.
“Nahi, mein yeh pooch raha tha ki teri ma hi ki guzar gayi?” hero asks baddie #1.
The theater erupts in laughter. At least, I guess it must, if there are more than two people in the theater.
The same baddie # 2 gets another call during a high octane chase scene later. He is hiding with a knife to ambush the hero. But his toe-tapping ring tone gives him away again. The hero now stops and asks him, “Ma ka phone hi?”
Baddie #2 says, “Nahi sir, girlfriend!”
“Girlfriend?” hero asks. He then pats the guy affectionately on the back and moves on. An instant reformation happens to the baddie, who throws away the knife in disgust.
How can you not like a movie which never takes itself seriously, is always affable, and is so funny?
True, Dabangg is a ridiculous movie. Its plot is shallow; narrative is jerky, and logic a little tenuous. But it is not a stupid movie. Not by a long chalk.
It is obvious that new director Abhinav Kashyap knew what he was going for and never took his eyes off that target. He has not made a “gyanvardhak” movie, he admits in an interview. Neither is there anything new. He wanted it to be an easy-going entertainer and that’s what he has delivered.
He and art director Wasiq Khan create a beautifully detailed and highly authentic setting for the movie, complete with the dust, mud, colors, and cow dung cakes of rural UP. The director pays a lot of attention to populating it with authentic looking people too, down to a bored crotch-scratching constable in a political rally.
I liked the director’s light touch. There are no tear jerker moments in the movie –even with one number mother dying. It is reined in and more often than not dealt with a joke. Like the one Salman cracks when visiting his step dad at the hospital. “I met your doctor and he said you have only a few days to live,” he says. “I slapped him hard and immediately your life span increased.”
I notice that Abhinav assisted Mani Ratnam in Yuva. Maybe that explains the Tamil influence. The grammar of this movie is all Tamil—Rajnikanth and the later day contenders to his throne such as Vijay. The rustic tone, the larger-than-life persona of the star, the reverential camaraderie the hero shares with his friends who are obviously poor, lines that are designed to draw crazed reaction from fans, and humor in action sequences all made me sometimes forget that I was watching a Hindi movie.
Which brings me to the most impressive aspect of the movie: boy, is the action out of the world! There are three major action sequences in the movie, each almost 4- 5 minutes long. You should watch them to believe the quality of choreography. Each of them is deft and funny like Jackie Chan’s, bloody like Japanese action comics, graceful like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and full of special effects like Matrix.
Allegedly, it took them 60 days to shoot the action sequences alone and it shows. Action director S. Vijayan is on his way to an Oscar if he continues like this!
Mahesh Limaye’s cinematography more than supports the sometimes fantastic action sequences, like the one in the climax. Pranav Dhiwar’s editing is very slick in the action sequences, but I thought it could’ve been better in the other parts of the movie.
What struck me (as it did in Rajneeti), was the absence of a strong ethical core. Back in those days, the mother used to be that—remember Nirupa Roy who used to insist on integrity and honesty in her sons? Remember how those movies had a righteous hero with a just cause and a completely wicked villain? Those kind of clear dichotomies seem to be extinct now. Rajneeti glorified mob-like behavior of the “family.” In Dabangg, righteousness is altogether missing. Everybody is wrong—only the degrees differ. It is a celebration of lawlessness.
So really, the hero has no moral high ground to do whatever he does. There is no reason to like him. He carries grudges from childhood which directs his actions. He is arrogant and corrupt. His relationships with his family members are highly dysfunctional. And yet he fills up the movie, compels you to be convinced about him, and enjoy his antiques. That is what they call star power, I guess. I liked Salman in Wanted. And in this movie, I adored him. What charisma this guy has!
Sonakshi Sinha is so unlike any of the current heroines. She comes across as very confident. And oh my God, Dimple is adorable! She is able to fit so well into any role she plays—be it in Dil Chahta Hi, or Being Cyrus or this movie. Wonder why she doesn’t do more work. Sonu Sood is very watchable. Om Puri does a brilliant cameo role. It is so difficult to ignore VInod Khanna’s gorgeousness, even at this age. He does a great job as the step dad.
Here’s a little game for you: can you find out the number of Hindi/Tamil/English film references that are there in the movie? To start you off, here’s my list:
a. Sun glass flipping: clear Rajnikanth trick
b. Mote wale is taraf, patle wale us taraf, aur jo fit hi, mere peechey: I don’t even have to say the reference
c. Climax: The setting, music, and sunny wide angle shots on an endless plain are all clearly Wild Western
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