Kis Kisko Pyaar Karoon, Review: Odd Kapils                                                                                       

What is Kis Kisko Pyaar Karoon (KKPK)? A remake of the Kannada film Nimbe Huli, produced by Subhash Ghai? A remake of some yet to be identified English-language film that might have inspired Nimbe Huli itself? A blend of several Neil Simon plays of the 60s and 70s? A clever reworking of the 1965 Hollywood comic classic, Boeing Boeing, already plagiarised by at least a dozen Hindi movies and over 120 Indian plays? An original script by little-known writer pair Anukalp Goswami and Dheeraj Sarna (TV, Koi Aap Sa--But Lovers Have to be Friends)?  Or, a showcase, big screen debut, for the popular TV comedy show host Kapil Sharma? Go figure. Or, on second thought, don’t go at all. What does that mean? Go figure!

ShivRamKishan Kumar, profession unknown, is forced to marry three women, one who would have committed suicide if he hadn’t saved her, whose brother, a deaf extortionist Don, assumes that he was the person his sister ran away with, insisting that they marry, at gun-point.  The second one's dying father gives her hand in his, assuming he is her boy-friend. The third  nuptials are performed with a girl his friend dupes, by showing her the much married fhandsome friend's photo and decamping with a huge dowry, allegedly received on his behalf. Our hero already has a girl-friend, but, on the advice of his childhood friend, a lawyer, he manages to put the three 'wives' up in different flats of the same building, facilitating the pretence of being married to only one of them, exclusively. Unknown to him, the three befriend each other, and, to add to his woes, his parents, separated for 15 years, land-up in Mumbai, to visit him and meet their daughter-in-law (singular, if you please).

All is set for incredible co-incidences and unbelievably quirky characters: girl-friend’s father is a tycoon who only hires married or faithful spouses, while all the daughter he dotes on does is gyrate suggestively in discothèques); a lawyer who helps his friend wriggle out of tricky situations by quoting Newton’s Laws and other ‘science’ phenomena to an illiterate house-maid as well as his friend’s wives; hero’s philandering father, who keeps giving lessons in ‘home science’ to all and sundry; a golden-hearted hard-of-hearing Don who refuses to wear a hearing aid, lest it ‘show’ him in bad light, and, for a ‘profession’, extorts money from grooms who demand dowry; a mother whose only advice to her son ever has been, “Do not break a woman’s heart”; a maid who confuses Newton with Nutan (a common Indian female name) and swallows all the lawyer’s explanatory gibberish ‘philosophy’ as theories postulated by the above-named Nutan. Enough!

There is little point in giving any credit for the few smart ploys and some passably clever one-liners to anybody, given that the authorship of the script is under a cloud. Speaking to publication Chitraloka, Hemanth Hegde, director of Nimbe Huli, has said, "I have sold the remake rights of Nimbe Huli to director K. Madesh, of (the) Tamil (film) industry. But the makers of this Hindi film have not bought the remake rights from him also. I never imagined that directors like Abbas-Mastan would do this kind of plagiarism. Now we are contemplating legal action against producers, Venus."

Given the track record of the director-duo Abbas and Mustan Burmawalla (brothers in real-life, whose surname means ‘of Burma’/ now Myanmar, and who look like loving uncles in real-life), it is difficult to deny the allegation made by Hegde. A-M have directed some 20 films in their 30-year career, including two initial films in Gujarati. Almost all the other films have been based on foreign works, if we go by innumerable such revelations made on the Internet, and corroborated by numerous cinema-buffs. Probably their biggest hit, Baazigar, was copied from A Kiss before Dying. Admittedly, I cannot confirm all the ‘rippings’, but they do have a reputation for cinemato-copygraphy.

A man having to marry three times against his will, while being in love with another girl, and having to conceal his Facebook status….oops…predicament, in turns, from all four, is a promising, if preposterous, premise, and comedies need not be rational or logical. But taking the audience for granted while also taking them for a ride is not good cinema. Giant wheels can be fun and entertaining, but they can also be big let-downs, if they do not take-off from ground level or get stuck mid-way. To try and avoid this trap, the ‘pentium’virate of writers-directors-editor (another Burmawalla, Hussain) give the film a frenetic pace and rapid-fire dialogue. They escape the need to extricate the protagonist from hopeless situations by giving him getaway lines that range from the profound to the bathetic.

In one scene, the couple in frame have their own, contrasting takes on clothes: the husband asks his wife to ‘take out’ his clothes, while she thinks he is asking her to ‘take off’ her clothes (derived from the Hindi/Urdu word ‘nikalo’ , meaning ‘take out’,  construed as ‘utaro’, ‘take off’; in some dialects, nikalo and utaro might be inter-changeable). In another scene, the protagonist curses the old man who got him married to his daughter as his dying wish, saying “Kyun, buddhe?” (Why, you old so and so). When his wife-over-hears him abusing his father’s photo, he lies that he said, “Cute buddhe!”, adding, “Where would you find such cute old men these days?”

Kapil Sharma is quite obviously caught in a devil and the deep blue sea dilemma. Does he bank on his one-liners and stand-up comedy reputation, and deliver more of the same on the giant screen, or does he emote and act out the whole gamut of emotions that constitute a good actor’s repertoire? He gets plenty of scope for the former, which he executes with motor-mouth pace and traces of Punjabi accent (voice was never his forté) and gets one extra-long scene, strumming the guitar on his terrace, with his friend, the lawyer, on a moonlit night, and confiding his woes with the stars, for the latter. Surprisingly, he does a pretty good job, till the scene starts dragging and becomes indulgent. The directors try to add impact, clubbing-in a zoom out-to-infinity camera lens movement, toward the end, suddenly making it all look even more pretentious. Kapil just about manages to keep you interested in the goings-on, with the promise only half-fulfilled         

Manjari Phadnis (Jaane Tu…Ya Jaane Na, Love Aaj Kal, Grand Masti) is a trained Western dancer and is also trained in Indian classical music. Unfortunately, though, the producers have gone with Shreya Ghoshal as her playback voice in the duet picturised on her and Kapil. Possessing a face that is both naturally orthodox and easily malleable, she has expressive eyes and a well-maintained figure that can carry jogging-wear with ease. It is seven years since Simran Kaur Mundi (5’10”, Miss India 2008), represented India at the Miss Universe pageant, in 2008. Since then, the model has acted in unremarkable films like Kuku Mathur Ki Jhand Ho Gayi, Mundeyan Ton Bachke Rahin, Best of Luck and Jo Hum Chahein. Tall and slim, unlike the archetypal Punjabi, she oozes sex through her eyes but has little else to be challenged with. Karnataka-born Sai Lokur is the daughter of Marathi film producer-director Veena Lokur, and had her college education was in Mumbai. Kuch Tum Kaho Kuch Hum Kahe and Pakda Gaya were her initial forays in Hindi cinema. She plays the most domesticated of the three wives, who are made to take turns at playing coy, devoted and suspicious.

Elli Avram may sound like a Jewish-Chennaish name, so how about using the real name instead? The Greek-Swedish seductress’s real-name  is Elisabet Avramidou Granlund. Nah! It would hurt nobody to know that she measures 34-28-34 (we saw some proof of that on screen), has green eyes (we saw a lot of proof of that on screen), made her debut in the Swedish film Förbjuden Frukt/Forbidden Fruit (how mean!), is the daughter of a musician father and actress mother, is a great fan of Shahrukh Khan and Aishwarya Rai. Before being cast as Kapil’s girl-friend in KKPK, she had appeared in Mickey Virus and Bigg Boss. So what is she doing in Mumbai and what made the producers of this film cast her as a thoroughbred Indian girl, albeit prone to spending long hours shaking her body in pubs/night-clubs? Keep wondering!

Arbaaz Khan as the Don is too sweet and too straight-faced to convince. Credit to him, though, for staying in character, as the hearing impaired, self-righteous criminal. Varun Sharma seems to be inspired by veteran Deven Verma in his dialogue-delivery, getting not even close in his portrayal and striking falsettos in the bargain. Using him as narrator was not a good choice. There is no lack of enthusiasm, though. Muscular Sharat Saxena as the retired army-man and the hero’s father strives to give the role some dignity, as does Supriya Pathak, playing his estranged but re-united by circumstance wife. Sharad Sankla is given a small role that could easily have gone to yester-year comedians like Agha, Mukri or Keshto Mukherji. A proven talent, Manoj Joshi as the orthodox, religious businessman is a part of the dumbing-down game.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, here comes the surprise packet: funster-mimic Johnny Lever’s talented daughter, Jamie, as the Maharashtrian maid speaking maid. Having seen her on stage just a year ago, performing with her famed father, I could see that she has lost weight and gained a sharp-edge to her personality. Her mother-tongue is Telugu and she has studied abroad, but don’t be surprised if Maharashtrian maids start aping her dialogue-delivery in KKPK. Except for a genetic frown that she has inherited from Johnny, she can hold her own, without the crutch of her father’s name. Welcome Jamie! I have had occasion to compère some of your father’s earliest shows when you were not born. I realised then that Johnny would go a long way. The same can be said now, about, you after KKPK.

Kis Kisko Pyaar Karoon has three posters that show situations not found in the film. That may be creative licence, though the word creative is not one that you would associate with the film.

Strictly for Kapil Sharma fans and/or those who need little excuse to keep laughing for over two hours.

Rating: **

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xhmej50EGM8

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Sriram is a debt-ridden cricket betting agent. He goes into hiding, along with his friend Bhagavantha, to escape the wrath of his lenders. Circumstances force him to marry three women--Janaki , Bhoomika and his relative Seetha. What's more hilarious is that they stay in the same apartment (block) with him, in flat numbers 301, 302 and 303. The plot gets more comical when the three of them get pregnant at the same time. Finally, Sriram is forced to reveal the long-kept secret. Synopsis of KKPK? No. You already read those. Then? Clue? Read how the names are spelt! Ah! Synopsis of Nimbe Huli? Right!