Choke, poke, gasp, mutter, splutter, here’s so much gutter humour. Congratulate me please for emerging alive and yucking from Indra Kumar’s Great Grand Masti, which like its title is hopelessly rusty ‘n’ musty.
The third edition of the Masti franchise perpetrated by Indra Kumar (who once upon a clime was responsible for relatively clean-cut entertainers a la Dil and Beta) is now striving to go the nutflix way, in the belief that sex of the no-vulgarity-barred kind sells.
And yo, more producers than grapes on a one-kilo bunch have Viagra’d this yawnterprise, ranging from Kumar’s dependable bud Ashok Thakeria and Sameer Nair, CEO of Balaji Telefims to the Adhikari Brothers and mucho more. Result: a brain, ear and eye-sore.
So what did you expect, you might thunder? Confession: right, so I made a blunder, partly out of the line of duty and partly out of the vain hope that even a cheese-fest could maybe, just maybe yield surprises of the pleasant kind.
Banish the thought. There are no silver or copper linings in this sasti Masti which is obsessive about three overgrown men who’re desperately erectile functional, eager to prove how oversexed hain hum. In the event, their eyeballs almost fall out of the sockets, gags are aimed at trouser pockets, and their gaze is always fixated on regions right below women’s dangling lockets. Eeesh.
Boys will be horny boys is the pitch once again, featuring the tiresome trio – Riteish Deshmukh (Amar), Aftab Shivdasani (Prem, hardly living up to the name though) and Vivek Oberoi (Meet or whatsoever). Off they go since they don’t have any better ganda kaam dhanda to Amar’s ancestral property, a haveli which even self-respecting bats, owls and assorted creatures would refuse to inhabit. Paranormal activities erupt as they have in more Hollywood movies and Ramsay Bros’ Spook Nagaris about dismemberment than you’d care to remember.
Already bedeviled by an off-her-rockers mother-in-law (Marathi theatre stalwart Usha Nadkarni slumming it out here), a hulky brother, an annoying-as-a-mosquito sis-in-law and what nought, the irksome threesome are in for a ruder shock. Gawk. The haveli is frequented by a ‘virgin bhootni’ (Urvashi Rautela, no comments) who must be, well, deflowered so that she can attain spiritual salvation. If that’s funny, so is a punctured car tyre on a lonely highway. Dismay.
The situational gags, triple and quadruple entendres, allusions to ticklish body parts, the rank objectification of women and the infantile bids at transmitting the raunchy quotient, all serve merely in raising your intolerance level.
Moreover, just think for a moment: America’s teen sex movie franchises, be it Porky’s or American Pie, have gone extinct. Bollywood, though, keeps hacking them out, suffering from the delusion that this genre is still hip and happening.
Worse besides the derivative trouser-dropping farce, Great Grand Masti isn’t even technically acceptable. The sound blasts, chopsocky editing and cinematography are at best, mediocre. As for the screenplay and dialogue, they seem to have been contrived to cater to the crudest-common denominator. Sigh but then that’s the prerogative of Indra Kumar and his posse of producers.
Of the acting crew, Aftab Shivdasani and Vivek Oberoi have painted themselves into a corner of no return. Who knows? They may land a hit with their grand-standing but little or no respect for their acting skills.
At most, your heart bleeds profusely for Riteish Deshmukh who has sought an image makeover of late but stubbornly keeps popping up in these sexwala franchises. Is the otherwise honourable Mr Deshmukh bipolar in his choice of roles or what?
Bottomwhine: Do yourself a favour. Avoid Great Grand etc. for your mental well-being. That’ll be infinitely safer.
Categories: Is the movie worth your buck?