Reincarnating Manmohan Desai!

There’s a particular shot in Om Shanti Om, where the director, on a film set, tells the producer that he has three cameras for the next shot—'Ek Satyajit Ray angle, ek Bimal Roy angle, aur ek Guru Dutt angle.' The producer coolly tells him to try out the Manmohan Desai angle because that’s the one that sells.

That sums up the entire film for me.

I have not seen Main Hoon Na, and to be very frank, Farah Khan, to me, has never come across as someone who can make serious cinema. And that’s exactly where I had gone wrong.

In the happiness of my pursuit of cinema, I had all but forsaken the pursuit of happiness that is watching films. I still remember one of the interviews of the late Manmohan Desai, where he had emphasized that there is already a lot of strife, pain, loss, sorrow, and grief in the world. When an individual enters the cinema theater anywhere in India, he wants to leave those behind at the entry gate. For three hours he wants to visit another world where 'Everything is fine in the end. If it is not fine, it is not the end.'

Whether the 1970s was the 'golden age' of Hindi cinema or not, why Manmohan Desai is not studied the way he should be, might or might not have been some of the questions the researcher and/or even the filmmaker had in mind while conceptualizing Om Shanti Om. But it is quite apparent that they have, indeed, expressed their love for that era and the man.

What has really impressed me about the film is the fact that it has the guts to laugh at itself. Being a film about the industry (in fact, considering there’s a literal roll-call of yesterday’s, today’s, and tomorrow’s film personalities in a much-talked-about song sequence—I refuse to use the term ‘star’, because it does not apply to at least 4–5 of them—it can, in fact, be called a film of the industry, for the industry, and by the industry), the little nudges in the ribs that it gives to itself are quite commendable. It has taken almost every stereotype that you can think of from the '70s (there are actual footages from '70s films with OSO's stars inserted in the frame, a la Forrest Gump) and thrown them back at us. In fact, it has delved on certain aspects that I have always wanted to ask while gorging on those stupendously entertaining films by the Desais, Mehras, et al. For example, how does a mole on the cheek so drastically alter one’s appearance?

There are many such references, whether a nod to actual incidents that occurred during shooting (watch out for a take on Mother India with Deepika Padukone doing a Nargis and Shahrukh Khan doing a Sunil Dutt) or characters that were obligatory in those blockbusters—the suffering mother, the selfless friend, and the scheming villain. In fact, it mixes today with yesterday seamlessly and am not talking about the 30 year time-frame that the film covers. 

For example, I know for a fact that everyday thousands of youngsters still arrive in Bombay (I still prefer to call the city that, Mumbai just doesn’t have the correct twang to it) with one dream, like the one Shahrukh Khan’s character has in the film—to make it big: ‘a round bed, velvet slippers, silk coat, loads of servants and to top it all, a FilmFare award!’

The film is not an ode to the 1970s. In fact, it is not an ode to any era at all. It is a paean to the joy of both watching a film and making it. It unabashedly lauds those people who, when they enter the darkened theater, wants to be transported to a world where the hero can do no wrong, where the heroine is 'dreamy', and where the villain will get his due, even if he seeks refuge in Hollywood!

The spoilsports among us might point out the fact that not all oblique insinuations have been in good taste. Especially those who refused to be a part of the 'roll-call number' (for want of a better term) have had quite a few digs made at them, be it a photo on a driving license or anything but parental affinity to girls young enough to be daughters. But, these again, are minor issues as compared to how well the film has tackled the 1970s in the first half, in particular, and filmdom, in general.

Shahrukh, the self-proclaimed 'rockstar' possibly found an even bigger fan following after OSO, because this is the film where those gazillions who come to Bombay everyday will find themselves reflected in the superstar’s persona—at last in a character he plays on screen, they will find themselves. There are, I think only three films of Shahrukh that I like. But this is the film, which has made me realize why he is such a huge star on the film firmament. In between a Chak De, a Swades and a Kabhie Haan Kabhie Naa, this man has, as an actor, carried on the legacy of Manmohan Desai, the legacy of unadulterated entertainment. We all know by now who the real 'Mohabbat man' is, don’t we?

About three-quarters into the second half, many of us, especially the Bimal Roy fans, will know how the climax of the film will turn out. But that, to me, was not a deterrent. It is just Farah’s way of taking her hat off to one of the best films ever made on the same premise that her film is based on. It, to me, was not plagiarism, not even an 'inspiration', but just a film fan’s way of saluting a master and his masterpiece.

There’s one prop in the film that encapsulates the spirit of Om Shanti Om. Shreyas Talpade handing Deepika Padukone a wine glass filled with tea. Yes, Hindi cinema has traveled, the form has changed, but the essence of going to a film is still the same old entertainment, like the staple morning cup of tea.

And to those of us who smirked at the issue of reincarnation (in fact a character in the film also asks the same question. It really is amazing how most characters in the film ask questions that we audiences have had in mind) in a film releasing in 2007: you just mistook the '70s to be dead, it is still with us, in ‘spirit’; we simply didn’t recognize it till now.

MKD would have said 'Om Shanti Om—I likes lot!'