Movie Review: Ranbir Kapoor looks like a Salman wannabe in Besharam
Here's the deal, ladies. The idea behind Besharam is, presumably, to make you sit through three hours of gibberish (even by the standards of a gibberish-addict like yours truly) for a three-second sighting of half an inch of Ranbir Kapoor's butt crack. Now whether that's a fair deal or not depends on how loyal your hormones are to Kapoor's cuteness (I admit, mine are supremely loyal). Guys, though I can't even think of any reason for you to go and watch Besharam, I'd say the film may be an uplifting though highly delusional lesson on how morons with the ugliest possible wardrobe can eventually land girls who can pay for an EMI of a Mercedes Benz.
If you're like me, then you usually don't mind shelling out 300 hard-earned rupees to watch Ranbir Kapoor yawn, or flick off an imaginary fly, or check BBM messages on his phone. So what does Besharam offer to people like us, other than those three uncomfortable seconds of Ranbir Kapoor letting us know he's been working his gluteus maximus muscles to taut perfection?
A mish mash of a story generously flicked from the era when 'Saat Samundar Paar Mein Tere Peeche Peeche Aa Gayi' was the reigning Bollywood love ballad and Meenakshi Sheshadri would be serially abducted by Gulshan Grover and wooed by heroes who looked like they needed a good scrubbing.
Kapoor in Besharam plays ace car thief Babli, who rocks a tux when needed, but sadly chooses to wrap himself in gift-wrapping paper most of the time. An orphan with a heart of gold, he takes pride in simple things in life - like the mesh of hair on his chest and the wonderful fact that he has a crotch. He supports the orphanage in which he was raised by stealing cars.
Into his world bursts Tara and something snaps inside the heart of the noble thief. Tara, a coporate honcho when she is not modelling salwar kameezes with precariously-low necklines, gives two hoots about this new admirer. By mistake, Babli steals Tara's brand new Merc, which according to the girl's mother, cost Tara her life's savings. Babli now has on his hands a very angry girl and on his tail are the husband-and-wife police duo of Chulbul and Bulbul Chautala.
Now stuff that story with more songs than a Rajshri Pictures production, songs that make Mallika Sherawat's 'Happy Birthday' offering to one 'Nahrendurr Mohdi Jhee' seem melodious, and you have Besharam. Oh, and add to this choreography that makes Suniel Shetty doing tai chi in and 'Jhanjhariya uski khanak gayi' look elegant.
There's also an elaborate two-minute demo of how the bowel movements of a sixty-year-old man sound while he recovers from constipation. If this inspires in you renewed respect for male toilet habits of all the men in your life, thank Rishi Kapoor. Blame him if you're plagued by nightmares of what awaits you in a couple of decades if you plan to marry someone with a healthy appetite for food like biryani.
Debutante Pallavi Sharda does a great job of scowling throughout the movie (maybe she wanted to mirror how disgruntled the audience feels) but has less screen presence than Irrfan Khan's dabba had in The Lunchbox. In fact, if she wasn't made to stand a pronounced two feet away from the backup dancers, you couldn't have identified her as the lead female actor in the film. Adding to her charms is that she has as much grace and as many expressions as Ranbir Kapoor's chest hair in the film. Like the latter, she is just... there.
Finally, and here's the cue for all fanboys/girls who take the time to write hate mails to director Abhinav Kashyap, what the hell has the film done to Ranbir Kapoor? The cinematography makes him look cute for a maximum of ten minutes in a very long film. The script has him stuff his crotch with socks for 'padding'. In short, Besharam turns Kapoor into a cheesecake-faced Salman Khan wannabe. If all that Kashyap wanted to do was follow up Dabangg, he should have kept the Khans happy and directed Dabangg 2 instead. When Kapoor mouths lines that we have come to associate with Khan or Akshay Kumar at their tackiest, the most he can do is make us cringe and die a little inside over the death of cuteness.
Had I not been made of stronger stuff, I would have dragged Abhinav Kashyap to court for killing Ranbir Kapoor. Period.