We, the kids, missus and I that is, saw "What's your Rashee?" today. Just returned 15 minutes ago, in fact. I am therefore dutifully filing my serious critical evaluation of the movie for the benefit of keen students of cinema who are doubtless reading my erudite blog for illumination.
The story is about a gujju guy who comes from the US to India to get married, and has to choose from 12 girls, each from one zodiac sign. And since I'm too exhausted to type out the story, and since you can easily read it on the net, and since it's mostly long and complicated songs anyway, let's take it as read. OK? Thanks.
I enjoyed the movie, of course. I thought Priyanka Chopra acted marvelously. I also thought Harman Baweja acted marvelously. I told the missus that. She gave me the look.
"You ok, buddy?" she asked me.
"Harman Baweja couldn't act to save a dying grandmother. Harman Baweja makes Akshay Kumar look like Naseeruddin Shah. You can't be serious about his acting".
"Come, now. You're prejudiced. I thought he was just the right shade of innocence and savvy combined."
The missus rolled her eyes. For once, she had the heartfelt support of both the kids. The younger one usually takes my side but this time he was very upset.
"I would have stayed at home and studied the chapter on the United Nations" he said, referring to a funfilled chapter in his Civics textbook which tells you all that you ever wanted to know about UN resolutions and the veto power of the security council but were afraid to ask.
Missus gave me the "see? didn't I tell you?" look. And well she might, because I was really taken aback. This was a strong reaction. Gautham declaring that he'd study rather than do something is complete damnation of that something. His hatred for textbooks makes Israel Palestine relations look like Portuguese love sonnets in comparison.
"And the songs were too many and every bloody where" Vyaas, our resident music aficionado piped up. Further strong stuff.
But I pigheadedly continued to defend Ashutosh Gowariker. "He is a fine filmmaker", I told the brood.
"When he lost his hair, he must have lost his mind with it", Vyaas said.
"Hush" said the missus with a barely suppressed giggle. "Annie's losing hair too".
"Hahaha" said Vyaas, exhibiting none of the spirit that, to take a random example from Hindu mythology, Sravana exhibited towards his father.
"Annie, is hair singular or plural?" asked Gautham.
"Plural of course"
"Then Vyaas, you should say 'when he lost his hair, he lost his mind with THEM', shouldn't he, Annie"
"Er, I don't think, that is, it doesn't seem to sound right. Ask your mother", I said
"You're the blog writer. YOU tell me!" she retorted, hitting that full toss to the boundary
As often happens in family conversations in the Shenoy household, I was conscious of a swimming feeling in my head.
"We were talking about the movie, people" I tried to recapitulate.
"If you hadn't forced us to come, we would have been watching cartoon network now" said Gautam, ruefully.
"We hate you Annie!" They didn't say this aloud, but I could almost mind read.
Damn you Gowariker. All your fault.