Kyon Ki Review

What is Prem of No Entry doing with Pu of KKKG , in a '70s style tragedy by the comic-director of Hungama, with a name that sounds like it's produced by Balaji Telefilms? It's like asking what sugar is doing in chicken tikka, or what salt and pepper are doing in gajar ka halwa. There is only one answer. Someone botched it up. And someone botched it up pretty damn good.

Kyon Ki is an incongruous mix of clichés, which, rather unprecedentedly in Bollywood history, come along at turns when they are least expected. Even clichés have a market, but the wrong cliché at the wrong time at wrong place? We don't think so.

Well, surefire Salman plays Anand in this movie, a mental asylum inmate. Let's run by the credits and cast really fast so we can get down to how they proceed to tie themselves up in, no, not a knot, but a whole damned braid of knots that would make any girl-guide jealous. And this braid just goes on and on and on, dragging you in tow, making gut-churning hairpin bends, to end in a depressing tragedy. The worst thing that can happen in a really bad film is when the ending is sad. Then it's like, the ghost of the movie leaves with you from the theater.

So Jackie Shroff is Dr. Sunil, a doctor in the asylum, whose colleague Dr. Tanvi (Kareena Kapoor) is the daughter of the head there, Dr. Khurana (Om Puri). Dr. Khurana's methods are stern and unconventional. From regular beatings and shock treatments by hospital warders, who dress like those in "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" (of which the movie positively reeks in the first half), to an avante garde procedure where a Rampuri chakoo is inserted into a patient's head from behind his ear (a curious point of insertion) to induce coma, he stops at nothing to keep the patient restrained.

Anand does an overly ebullient and exaggerated version of Jack Nicholson in the aforesaid movie, as he buys gifts and helps out the other inmates. All the inmates are the buoyant, happy-go-lucky lunatics who never give serious trouble but only make people laugh with their confused ramblings. It is the ideal mental hospital, with lipsticked nurses and five-star restrooms.

Now Anand is here because he has a traumatic past - the tragic death of his former lover Maya (Rimi Sen) that followed a paradisiacal love affair. And Dr. Sunil knows Anand from his childhood too. So he takes extra care of him. Together, Tanvi and Sunil orchestrate a novel form of treatment for Prem's interesting condition, by making him relive his past trauma - making Tanvi play Maya.

Rajnikant called it Psychosis in Chandramukhi and got away with it. Extremely well, I might add. But we don't think Salman and gang are going to be even half as lucky. First, they don't have a rad name for their therapy. Second, it is picturised in a song sequence that ends with Anand tumbling down a slope, and looking ridiculous as he overdoes that too. Third, for God's sake, that was a fantasy movie! This is a tearjerker. You cannot be so egregiously illogical in a melodrama.

The music is mediocre, and the only relief it brings is to give you a break so you can pick up your Coke. If you are following the story that is. From the hilarious first few scenes in the movie, to the foolishly wasted sad ending, the rate of decay is almost radioactive. Salman Khan in top form might have been able to overshadow the kooky waverings of this plot, but he isn't exactly charismatic as a beefcake with pre-kindergarten intelligence.

Like we said, one of the most unforseeable duds in Bollywood cinema. Who could have guessed it with all its pedigrees?