Ahh Salman Khan, the Hero of Dongri, Mumbra and Bandra East. Attending a Salman Khan Movie post 2009 usually means sitting through a three hour long brutal violation of the laws of physics. I had promised myself I would never watch another Hindi movie after Kambakht Ishq, but since my better half wanted to watch the movie so dearly, I gave in.
I like to consider myself an intellectual, and my movie fare revolves around the same belief, I truly desire something that stimulates my neurons and gets me thinking, this evidently removes the entire strata of Bollywood out of my liking.
And as I watched bodyguard today that paradigm was reinforced even more, incredulous action sequences coupled with grizzly jokes targeted at obese and short people, the asinine and half-baked humor made me want to hurl, I sat there begrudgingly with an air of importance about myself, judging the people that howled and whistled at every punch, every dance, every pectoral flex that Salman had to offer.
I was urged before I entered to switch off all rational thinking and just let the movie win me over, but alas, a hyper intellectual like myself can do no such thing, smirking derisively and maliciously at the over the top judgmental humor that the movie amounted to.
At the end of it all I was beside myself with rage, why do Americans make such good movies? Why can’t we even simply copy their ideas and at least use Cinema as a medium of communication and not tomfoolery.
I got mad at her for suggesting this redundant mundane waste of money as entertainment, and sulked the whole hour of the drive back home.
My homes security guard overheard the word bodyguard while I ranted to a neighbor about the horrendous film, and asked me, Sirji, Bodyguard Dekhne Gaye Aap???! Sirji kya picture hai, Salman bhai kya dikhte hai, abhi bhi body jordaar, kya naachte hai kya fight karte hai, he said throwing his fists up in the air, a twinkle in his eye, trying his best to emulate Salman Khan, as much as his 60 year old frame would permit.
Why do his movies work? Why do people enjoy this utter horseshit? Why doesn’t a sensible movie like A beautiful mind or the Shawshank Redemption or even Black for that matter create magic at the box office?
Because it’s not about thought, it’s about love. Salman Khan is the champion of the bourgeois. You can see it, with all the children and their turquoise bracelets, all the college going kids with their fake Being Human T-Shirts, it’s not about thinking, it’s about love.
India’s values haven’t changed, the concept of a hero has always been and probably will always be the effervescent good man, the simplicity of Ram, the Strength of Bheem and the alluring pectoral flexes of Lovely Singh.
You can’t possibly hate this movie being an Indian, what you can do is put up a posse of dignified indifference towards crass rudimentary humor and show socially acceptable exasperation towards the unreal fights, but deep down all of us want to be Salman Khan, Deep down Salman Khan knows that, and that my friends makes him a genius.
Thank you for making me watch that film honey, I’m sorry for being a Jackass.
