Aashiq (2001)
Starring: Bobby Deol, Karishma Kapoor
Director: Indra Kumar
Music Director: Sanjeev Darshan
Synopsis: A piece of mindbogglingly horrendous dirge from Indra Kumar the creator of Dil
Reviewed by: Faiz Khan

 

Indra Kumar's previous film, Mann, blemished what had until then been a remarkable run of box-office successes that began with Dil and continued through Beta, Raja and Ishq. Defending Mann, the director claimed he had merely tried to do something different and that audiences had rejected it. Aashiq, therefore, was billed as a return to the tried-and-tested Indra Kumar school of filmmaking.

I suppose we were expected to be excited by that.

How I wish Mann had been a runaway success if only to have spared us this monumental insult of a film.

Words almost escape me when trying to describe just how something like Aashiq could still be made in this day and age and then presented as entertainment.

Chander (Bobby Deol) helps one of his friends elope with his sweetheart, thereby earning the undying hatred of her hot-headed police inspector brother (Mukesh Rishi), who vows revenge. During this little escapade Chander meets Pooja (Karisma Kapoor), who promptly falls head over heels in love with him.

Rather than actually speaking to him, however, Pooja spends the next forty minutes telephoning Chander while pretending to be his mysterious "dream girl". This, apparently, is what passes for romance.

Let me assure you...

there isn't an iota of charm in any of it.

Eventually the two lovers come face to face and, surprise surprise, fall hopelessly in love.

Their happiness doesn't last very long.

The permanently enraged inspector catches up with them and everyone eventually lands in the local police station. Pooja's alcoholic father arrives to collect his daughter and promptly forbids her from seeing Chander ever again.

Quite why remains something of a mystery.

Chander lives in a house every bit as impressive as Pooja's, his father is a lawyer, and he seems to throw money around with reckless abandon throughout the film. Nevertheless, we are expected to believe that he somehow falls beneath the family's lofty standards, so Pooja's parents quickly arrange another engagement.

Chander arrives to plead his case, receives a thorough beating from Pooja's father and, after finally attempting to defend himself, is scolded by Pooja for having the audacity to push the old man.

Realising she has made a mistake, Pooja telephones Chander to apologise, only to be told that he never wants to see her again.

Fortunately Chander's friend Jai promises to arrange a meeting.

Unfortunately, Jai delivers her straight into the hands of Baburao, a gangster engaged in the flesh trade.

Oh dear.

Poor Pooja now finds herself imprisoned in darkened rooms awaiting sale to the highest bidder.

Naturally...

it has to be a Sheikh.

Meanwhile, Chander is arrested for kidnapping Pooja, escapes from police custody with astonishing ease and eventually tracks her down. In the inevitable showdown he is stabbed by one of Baburao's henchmen while attempting to rescue her.

What will become of our star-crossed lovers?

By this stage, frankly, one scarcely cares.

Indra Kumar truly shows his colours with this colossal pile of dung.

I mention dung quite deliberately because one of the film's supposedly hilarious comedy highlights involves Rocky the dog dropping the inspector's keys into a steaming pile of cow muck, forcing the poor man to retrieve them before promptly falling face first into it himself.

This is the level of humour we are dealing with.

To be fair, Indra Kumar's earlier films were never exactly exercises in subtlety, but they at least possessed a certain gloss. They benefited from memorable music, larger-than-life drama and enough energy to disguise the crudeness beneath the surface.

Aashiq possesses none of that.

It feels like a pale imitation of Dil, stripped entirely of its charm, panache and entertainment value. Instead, it dusts off the age-old story of separated lovers and the heroine being dragged off to a kotha, apparently expecting audiences to accept such hopelessly outdated melodrama without question.

Who honestly believes this sort of thing anymore?

Worse still, the film is littered with the kind of turgid, infantile and painfully unfunny comedy that even made Raja seem sophisticated by comparison.

Bobby Deol has little to do beyond looking mildly perplexed throughout the first half before flexing his muscles during the second. His stabbing scene is a particular low point. As he drifts in and out of consciousness, he imagines Pooja emerging from the sea before bursting into song. During the number she playfully punches him, causing him briefly to regain consciousness before promptly passing out again...whereupon the song simply resumes.

It is surely one of the most crass placements of a song in recent memory.

Karisma Kapoor fares little better. She spends much of the second half bruised, imprisoned and reduced to uttering the obligatory "Main tujhe maar doongi!" or "Nahin... nahin!"

Whatever possessed her to accept such a thankless role?

Rahul Dev makes a suitably menacing Baburao but nobody else leaves much of an impression.

Rajesh Roshan's music is equally uninspired. Not one song lingers in the memory and every single one could have been removed without the slightest loss to the film.

Aashiq is utter dirge from beginning to end, and I find it difficult to imagine anyone willingly sitting through it.

Then again...

I was equally convinced Raja would never become a hit, yet audiences embraced it wholeheartedly.

Perhaps Indra Kumar really does understand the pulse of the public.

I sincerely hope not.

Otherwise we can all look forward to more utter rubbish like this being foisted upon us.