Shun this Tashan

Being an Aquarian, I am guilty of a bad road sense. I don’t know the Sun-sign (or should I say, Tashan-sign?) of debutant director Vijay Krishna Acharya, but let me tell you, this guy gave me a huge ego boost. Think about this—you go from Mumbai to Haridwar, via Ladakh and if that is not enough, you travel from Haridwar to Rajastan via Ladakh again!


I am not quite sure what the word ‘tashan’ actually stands for. Some say, it means ‘style’; according to others, it means ‘attitude’. However, the most apt description was found in the film itself, mouthed by Ibrahim, the real life son of Saif Ali Khan: ‘Bull shit, with a cherry on top’.

So, what is the cherry, one might ask. It is a red convertible, which changes during a seesaw ride that ultimately lands itself into deep water. No, nothing Bond-ish happens. It is just that the number plate of the convertible gets converted from 'UG...' to 'MH...' somewhere midway!


In my opinion, the car, in many ways, stands for the film itself. The driver, Bachchan Pandey (Akshay Kumar) and the passenger Jeetender ‘Jimmy Cliff’ Kumar Makhwana (Saif Ali Khan) play with the stereo system of the car in a manner befitting a couple struggling with the same remote while choosing between IPL and a K-serial The songs they are trying to reach a consensus between were AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell' and the title track from YRF's very own Kabhie Kabhie. Tashan, if the expressions of people coming out of the theater were of any indication, has definitely taken the highway to hell, while kabhie kabhie we can't help but think that the YRF banner came up with gems like Deewar (which we shall get to shortly), Kaala Patthar (also bastardized in the film, transliterally) and numerous other classics.


Just like the car, the film also nose dives into a pool of cold water! So, I firmly believe that the car is symbolic of the film itself!


Vijay Krishna Acharya made a name for himself while writing scripts for films like Dhoom and Dhoom 2. Now, some of us might vehemently refute the usage of the term 'script' in the context of the aforementioned two films. But what both of those lacked in the story department, they at least made up in 'looks'. Unfortunately, when it comes to Tashan, you just do not know where to look, because it lacked in both departments (unless you think 'This film looks like bull shit with a cherry on top'; then, it’s a different issue altogether!)

Now, a little bit about the ‘characters’ in the film. First up is Anil Kapoor who plays the spoken-English-challenged ‘Bhaiyyaji’. I once read somewhere that the English language has been raped so much that you can now drive a truck through its genitals. Here, we found the truck. Lampooning one of the sequences that is synonymous with the YRF banner—the temple scene towards the end of Deewar—Anil’s character mouths the 'Aaj khush toh bahot hoge tum' in such a language, that had that been in the actual Deewar, am sure the idol would have raised from his pedestal and did something quite unidol-like to him.


And for those who had no clue of what Bhaiyyaji was saying (I must admit, after 10-odd minutes, his pendulum act between broken Hindi and decimated English made me think of the swerving car again) there was this poster of Deewar just behind Bhaiyyaji. As Bhaiyyaji would have said 'Sub-tellity eej naat this philm’s fortress'!


Next up is Akshay Kumar—the current reigning superstar of Bollywood. I have caught only glimpses of his recent super hits. Hence, I thought this film will give me a much better idea about his popularity. So, when he enters, as Bachchan Pandey, about 40 minutes into the film, wearing a Ravana costume with all ten heads having his face, I understood.


This guy is the same Akshay Kumar, no matter which film you put him in. And he also has a nice way of acknowledging the audience’s love for him—for want of a better name, let us call it a 'crotch hitch'. Or maybe it has a crotch cultural symbolism as well, who knows!


Now, the hullabaloo about Saif and Kareena. Before that, a little bit about who they play in the film. Saif is a call center executive who would give you Sunny Deol’s number if you want to 'ukhaado' a hand pump from your locality. No, I stand corrected. He will only give it to you, if you are Pooja Singh, who is actually a secretary (with a secret) who works for Bhaiyyaji. The two, I mean Pooja and Jimmy, meet when the former comes to the latter asking if he is interested in giving private tuitions to the English enamored Bhaiyyaji. But...Bachchan is the one interested in 'privates'—another irony!


So, did we get a 'Rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain'? Nope, instead we got a lot of pain. As Bhaiyyaji kept on molesting the Queen’s language, Saif and Kareena decided to give him the slip and run away with his money. Actually, I stand corrected again. Kareena gave Saif the slip as well, and slipped into a two-piece. And there it was, on screen, the dance number that has made more headlines than Harbhajan slapping Sreesanth. However, it came and it went before we could say 'Hero aur zero'. Possibly because, when we are told ‘zero figure', we inadvertently think of ‘zero’ as well-rounded!


Then there is this subplot, involving Bachchan and his childhood sweetheart. At that time, Bachchan was someone who used to climb up poles and fix electricity lines. Curious, isn’t it? He fixed the lights and we got the jolts? If only he was equally generous towards the director and fixed his ‘dimaag ki batti’, as well. But then, I am digressing again. I think the red car got to me.

Now, for the Hollywood connection in the film. As has happened on numerous occasions, Hollywood comes to the rescue of Hindi cinema—but this time, in the form of two truckloads of singing, dancing, and gyrating extras for a Hollywood film, called ‘Bolly-widow’! So, our threesome don some wigs that will make their head disappear and look like they are ostriches when they dig a hole and jump in it head first (not a bad idea, actually) right in the middle of Rajastan. At the end of it all, the director of the Hollywood film profusely thanks Bachchan Pandey, believing he is this ‘huge star’ of Hindi films. As if the violation of Deewar wasn’t enough!


But that’s not where the Hollywood connection ends. I have been told a leading action coordinator was brought from Hollywood to choreograph the stunts. I won’t be surprised if he was handed films like Hukumat, Elaan-e-Jung, Mardon Waali Baat and the likes. Because that is precisely what the action sequences resembled. Remember those '80s and '90s films where the hero—a cross breed between Spiderman and Superman and equally adept at handling machine guns, pistols and, even lamp posts—single handedly annihilated an army in such a manner that he would have made Leonidas scratch his head in utter dismay and send a missive saying 'Forget 300. One will do. You are hired'? Now think Tashan. You get the idea.


While I was going through the ‘credits’, (Yep, people do get credited, no matter how the film is), I found one guest appearance had been left out, I don’t know why. It was a speed boat, which appears out of thin air while a ‘fight’ akin to what we often see in Parliament was going on.


On my way back home, I was trying to gauge what the film outline might have looked like. A gangster who wants to ravish English, a call center executive who is hired to teach him the nuances, a secretary that every ‘body’ dreams of, a recovery agent with a Tendulkar itch (ironically, Bachchan has the itch while Bhaiyyaji wields the bat in the film!)—it all must have sounded quite hunky dory on paper. But when it came to execution, after all those 'the' in the film (the opening credits say The Akshay Kumar, The Anil Kapoor…), the only 'the' you crave for throughout the 2 hr and 45 minutes is 'The End'.


In fact, to think of it, this film might have started a whole new movement, after Dadaism, called 'The-The-ism!'