Film: “Golmaal Returns”; Cast: Ajay Devgan, Kareena Kapoor, Tusshar Kapoor, Anjana Sukhani, Arshad Warsi, Amrita Arora, Shreyas Talpade and Celina Jaitley; Director: Rohit Shetty; Rating: *
The sequel to the successful “Golmaal” is filled with in-house jokes – for instance when Ajay Devgan weaves the titles of his films into the dialogues. Or the hilarious takeoff by that talented Ashwini Kalsekar on Rani Mukerji’s randy tart’s act from Sanjay Bhansali’s “Saawariya”… it’s a rare moment of genuine laughter in this comedy of earsplitting guffaws, all emanating from the screen rather than out of it.
Fast, furious and fatuous “Golmaal Returns” isn’t quite that Diwali blues-chaser you expect it to be. The comic timing, though skilled, is wasted by the actors in sequences that try to breathe fire into a burnt-out oven.
No wonder the comicality is half-baked and often repetitive. The jokes from the first film are extended to the second, often with far-from-funny results. Many large sections of satire just lack attractive attire.
What was Kareena Kapoor doing in this corny concoction? Playing a fan of the saas-bahu serials, she’s named Ekta, as a homage to the soap queen Ekta Kapoor whose brother incidentally plays Kareena’s brother in the movie.
Tusshar Kapoor is a howl. And a whine. And a whoop. And a snivel. Since he is mute, he sharpens his ability to emote through jungle calls. He’s a revelation.
The camaraderie among the cast is quite evident. The male actors bond with gusto and Shreyas Talpade, who is the new recruit to the revelry, joins in without skipping a beat. His comic timing is delightfully sinewy.
But what happened to Arshad Warsi? His quick entry and exit as cop begins to get on the nerves after a while.
But Tusshar and Shreyas whip up a wacky humour. Most of the material about a suspicious wife and several red herrings strewn across a path that’s self-consciously forged on the grounds of Hyderabad’s Ramoji Film City is very old-fashioned in its approach to slapstick humour. Crowds hover around studio-built malls and streets trying to look casual.
They provide a rough and random backdrop to what’s basically material for a sex comedy on stage.
The characters run in breathlessly, say their jokey lines, fall over each other in rituals of suggestive laughter and then fall out of the frames waiting for the next gag to beckon them. It’s all supposed to be hilariously funny. But is often just a pretext for more a pantomime of parody than the real thing.
At the end there’s a threat for a third segment of “Golmaal”.
It would all depend on how much money the part two manages to bring in.
Going by the audiences’ riotous response, it seems no-brainers are eminently fashionable.
rounak