The makers have been screaming from the rooftops about how Akash's multiple getups in Mr. Rajesh are a big deal. Apparently, the feat broke records of some sort. As it turns out, enduring the movie can get you into the record books, too. For being able to speak at the end of it all.
We're not exaggerating. Mr. Rajesh is easily among the worst movies that ever saw the light of day. Centred around a murder, it mixes romance, violence, quirkiness and sleaze, in healthy amounts, intelligence completely subtracted, to give you a loaded yet light-weight thriller. All made in a budget of Rs. 5,000. That includes the two wigs worn by the multi-faceted hero.
A family has been murdered somewhere in the outskirts of town, and the killer is on the run. In a dhaba nearby, a bunch of miscellaneous characters have congregated. All of them look retarded, and behave accordingly. Many of them are Akash in different roles.
To start with, there's a "normal" Akash, who has come there with his girlfriend. Next, there's a policeman Akash who wants to feel up one of the waitresses. Another Akash is the perpetually-drunk owner of the dhaba, who wants to feel up all the waitresses.
A rude, shaven-head Akash walks in, demands food and does not show his ID. The police automatically assume he killed the family above. But thanks to his vile temper, he shoots the cop and a couple of others.
A London-returned Akash walks in, with a wig that looks like a carpet threw up all over him, and an accent that sounds like he's throwing up. He somehow randomly thinks the psycho in the dhaba is Mr. Rajesh, the killer he had hired to snuff out his brother's family (the one that was murdered in this story), and proceeds to pay him.
But Mr. Psycho says he's not Mr. Rajesh. Mr. NRI could have just nodded and walked away with his briefcase of money. But no. He decides to tell everyone why he wanted his brother's family dead. A story is then stuffed into our faces - something about a live-in girlfriend and a dimwitted maradalu, a power plant project, the girlfriend's rich dad, some family property etc.
What transpires next is stupidity and madness of the third degree. Mr. Psycho is very concerned about the family's murder. He weeds out "suspects" at the dhaba one by one, and anyway shoots them down (some tripe about him having a good heart). This he does until he zeroes in on the culprit.
The story is as enjoyable as eating footwear. The characters are all unpleasant, noisy, dumb and annoying. Some, of course, are more irritating than the rest. One particular nut, a movie-actor-type, keeps talking loudly and abusing people, in an apparent bid to lighten the mood.
There's also the sleaze factor that many of these small-time films seem to be at ease depicting. 95% of the men in the story specialize in feeling up the women, or at least, expressing their desire to do so. These acts of love/lust/leering are depicted pretty crudely. The dim lighting doesn't help at all.
In fact, most of the movie is shot indoors in bad lighting. The production values are so abysmal you wonder if Akash did his make-up all by himself. Without a mirror. Or a make-up kit.
We're not completely sure if Akash was a decent actor earlier, but in Mr. Rajesh, he's pretty sad. His idea of acting chops involves making strange stretching jaw movements and running his fingers tightly over his face.
Mr. Rajesh is one big practical joke masquerading as a real film. We're not sure who the joke's on, though.