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[This is a re-posting of a review originally posted here, on PFC, on January 21, 2008 at 7:38 pm]

No make happy?
Yes make happy?
No happy, no money!

As bizarre as it may sound, it has to be said that this is an excerpt of an important interaction between the leads in Nagesh Kukunoor’s Bombay to Bangkok, the making happy standing-in for copulation in Thai-English. While it could be presumed that a customer (Shreyas Talpade) is ensuring his money buy Sex from the Service (Thai actress Lena Christensen), it is the latter that mouths the aforementioned profundity. Honesty? Let’s wait some.

The very next sequence in the film reverses the roles where Shreyas Talpade’s con-man-doctor now embodies Service that prescribes Sex (Viagra) to his Customers. The Sexologist that he’s supposed to be is requested treatment to make happy their erection on old males’ Jeevan Dhara Ki Jwalamukhi. [Translation: Volcano of Reproductive Activity!]

Having been subject to repeated Jeevan Dhara Ki Jwalamukhi-baring, Shreyas Talpade’s doctor is summoned, by previous night’s hooker-by-night medical-volunteer-by-day Christensen, to save her father from dying of heart attack. The father turns out to be the same lucky soul that started the Pants-dropping-for-Viagra trend, who now is ailing from an overdrive of sexual activity. As soon as the miracle fart-cure is stumbled-upon scatologically, the father drags his sex-partner back into his room to make himself happy while Shreyas could attempt the same, if he willed, by the father’s daughter who was offering so much make happy the previous night. Honest Kukunoor realizes that he’s not even remotely equipped to traverse this Father-and-Daughter-as-messed-up-lonely-people-territory that’s adept in the hands of a Tsai-Ming Liang, or, say even, a Kim Ki-Duk or a Pen-ek Ratnaruang. Instead Kukunoor displays his disclaimer that he’s already used in his defense – that this is going to be a mindless film that would nevertheless hope to get lucky at the Box-Office.

Disclaimer(s):
This is a film that starts with the lead actor bumbling-around-stealthily,
(mirroring audience’s own grappling-in-the-dark as they enter the cinema-hall) reiterating its lameness through a lazy-but-wanting-to-be-interesting-Voice-Over (VO) that speaks “Lo, Yeh Raha Main…” (Translation: Ah, This is ME!) and the “Ek Pal Ki Kamzori” (translation: a Momentary Weakness) kind of excuses for the next 2 plus hours.

A film that would employ Blockbuster-School-of-Logic as opposed to, er, Logic in doing anything that would propel the VO-stated purpose of the narrative – stealing the money from the Gangland Boss, surviving long-enough to spend the money, finding a Romantic accessory that would make him happy once-in-a-while.

A film that would be, uniquely & embarrassingly, shot to a Pre-recorded Background Score that the actors can use as motivation with the stale script & direction.

A film that would, with its music, threaten to break into the much-irritating Aashayein, Aashayein that one of Kukunoor’s previous over-rated film pounded on its well-meaning audience. Needs to be reminded Aashayein, Aashayein is no Shigeru Umebayashi’s ‘Yumeji’s Theme’ for Wong Kar-Wai’s In the Mood for Love!

If you’re still curious about what the film’s about, here you go: a Cook (Shreyas Talpade) steals mafia (Naseeruddin Shah) money, mafia sends son (Vijay Maurya) behind the stolen money, Cook skips country as part of a medical team administering Aid to a Thai country-side (whose doctors probably are in an exchange-program in some Indian country-side), pursued by mafia-son Cook pretends Sexologist while looking for the hidden-by-himself-bagful-of-money, finds a side-kick in a Thai-speaking Sardar, falls for a Hooker with whom he struggles conversing (while both of them speak exactly complimenting amounts of the English language), unearths a conspiracy in the medical establishment that’s involved in abominable practices. Here, the film pauses to think what’s been left out, finds the answer about the Cook & the Hooker, brings them together in a confusingly-unique resolution – in a Sardar side-kick translated trilingual tri-logue the Cook agrees to respect by allowing her to continue her Working Girl routine. The VO (epilogue) tries to sound funny about the rest of the characters that populated the film, jumping years ahead into the narrative with kids running around parents that behaved like they were in a bad film.

Amongst the actors, Vijay Maurya (Mafia-blooded Rapper JamK) seems to be the only one enjoying his acting, inventing newer sides to himself that he would’ve surprised into submitting. Shreyas Talpade is unnecessarily spring-footed; heavier boots would ground one’s feet, & in the process correct walk-disorders, if any. Elijah Wood in Sin City had a reason to be springy!

Honesty that’s been generously, & erroneously, attributed to Nagesh Kukunoor’s filmmaking is true only to the extent of the filmmaker’s films containing disclaimers all along the way, in all the films [The half-decent Teen Deewarein disqualifies itself for its indebtedness to Jim Jarmusch’s Down By Law].

I wonder how proud Nagesh Kukunoor has rendered the Thai-Embassy-in-India & their opposite number in Thailand, & the various Tourism Boards on both sides, with this anachronism-of-a-film.