Film: Grand Masti
Starring: Vivek Oberoi, Aftab Shivdasani, Ritesh Deshmukh, Sonali Kulkarni, Bruna Abdullah
Director: Indra Kumar
Producer: Indra Kumar
Banner: Maruti International
Music: Anand Raj Anand
I remember many of Indra Kumar's film
featured a particular tree, which the director considers lucky. There is
a tree here in "Grand Masti" too, where a rigid college principal hangs
any student who looks with lascivious intent at the girls on the
campus.
The three leering...sorry leading men
who come together represent the spirit of defiant devil-may-care and
chase women. If you feel movies that objectify women must be
discouraged, then you are advised to stay as far away from this horny
farce as possible.
There are the comedies. Then there are
the SEX comedies. Filled with innuendos, suggestive leery double-meaning
dialogues that make us chuckle and giggle even if we are not the sort
who like to exchange dirty jokes in the SMS, "Grand Masti" has itself a
ball at the expense of basic good taste.
The gags in "Grand Masti" unabashedly
celebrate the puerile spirit of SMS forwards. If you packaged those
pssst-pssst jokes from your puberty in plenty of loud aggressive
dialogues loaded with double meanings and oodles of close-ups, you'd get
into the spirit of "Grand Masti".
To their credit Aftab Shivdasani, Vivek
Oberoi and Ritesh Deshmukh - now in their mid-30s - get into the spirit
of the sex-comedy full-on. Oh, they love talking dirty!
The one thing that works fully in this
film's favour is it unabashed homage to horniness. Our three heroes are
perpetually aroused. To prove it they emanate moans groans and sighs
constantly.
Kumar has never been a slave to
subtlety. Here he pulls out all stops. He also pulls out other
ummentionable objects that are defiantly pointed into our faces.
One really can't complain about the
film's remarkably steep level of innuendos. Not a single member of the
audience for "Grand Masti" expects anything but coarse humour borrowed
from low-brow Gujarati plays.
Writer Milap Milan Jhaveri's wickedly wanton word-play leaves no space for subtlety in the script.
Stand-up comedian Suresh Menon shows up as a mock-villain wearing a golden underwear.
The obscenity flows out unstopped,
unchecked, uncaring of rudimentary rules of decency. Having declared
this to be irreverent territory director Kumar doesn't really care how
lowbrow the humour gets. And the jokes happily really plumb to
unimaginable depths.
More than the boys I salute the three
pairs of ladies playing the trio of gharwallis and baaharwallis for
surrendering to the sexually suggestive spirit of the proceedings.
The writing and direction in a film such
as this is either a sign of absolute innocence about political
correctness or indicative of an obstinate disregard for all good taste.