Haan Maine Bhi Pyar Kiya Hai (2002)
Starring: Akshay Kumar, Karisma Kapoor, Abhishek Bachchan
Director: Dharamesh Darshan
Music Director: Nadeem Shravan
Synopsis: Formula tale of a love triangle and its tribulations is truly stale stuff
Reviewed by: Faiz Khan

 

 

I sometimes wonder what possesses people to change the spelling of their names. I know it's all supposed to do with stars and numerology, but honestly, does it really make a jot of difference? Having sat through Haan Maine Bhi Pyaar Kiya Hai, I can only assume it's an attempt to try every trick in the book to ensure a film's success.

Take Dharmesh Darshan. Lootere was a classy action film, followed by Raja Hindustani, essentially a reworking of older movies but crafted with tremendous assurance by a director who was completely in control of his medium. Those were the days when Dharmesh was regarded as one of the hottest directors in town. That was followed by the poor but reasonably pacy Mela. To make amends, he returned with Dhadkan, another old-fashioned emotional drama which, despite its flaws, was slickly made and consistently engrossing.

Buoyed by that success, he now ventures into romantic territory once again with this tragically misguided attempt at creating a complex yet simple three-way love story.

The film opens with our hero Shiv (Abhishek Bachchan) riding his motorcycle while singing joyfully about finally meeting "that someone" in his life. His counterpart, Pooja (Karisma Kapoor), is apparently having identical thoughts while showering, then wandering around in a towel before heading off for a job interview. Sure enough, they both arrive at the same interview where, through a little feminine cunning, Pooja beats Shiv to the job. By one of those extraordinary twists of fate known only to Bollywood, Shiv then turns out to be the company's General Manager. His punishment for her? He asks her to marry him, which she promptly agrees to, and before you know it they're back on the motorcycle singing yet more love songs. At least they didn't end up sharing the shower.

Married life begins, but signs of discord appear almost immediately. On the very next morning Shiv answers the door wearing nothing but a bedsheet, revealing rather more of his spindly legs than anyone could reasonably have wished for. The milkmaid openly flirts with him, even calling him "dost", much to the horror of his already suspicious wife.

Things only deteriorate further.

Planning a surprise birthday celebration for Pooja, Shiv secretly arranges to meet her brother and sister-in-law. Unfortunately, the latter insists on riding the giant wheel at a fair with her husband, leaving Shiv stranded alongside a rather forward young woman. Naturally, the ride breaks down and everyone remains suspended in mid-air for the next seven hours. Shiv eventually returns home at five o'clock in the morning, only to face an understandably furious wife. Foolishly, he lies that he had been working at the office. Matters worsen when the other woman's watch mysteriously finds its way into his pocket, prompting him to claim that he had actually bought it as a present for Pooja. The very next evening the owner of the watch conveniently appears at dinner, exposing every one of Shiv's increasingly ridiculous lies. Pooja storms out, only for everything to be explained by her brother and his wife, after which husband and wife kiss, make up and all is forgiven.

Every Indian apparently dreams of visiting "Swizzerland", and the film certainly reminds us of that often enough. Off the couple go for their delayed honeymoon. There, Shiv unexpectedly bumps into an old friend, Meghna. The pair become trapped in a landslide and take refuge in a mountain lodge, wrapped in blankets. One blanket catches fire, prompting gallant Shiv to whisk it away and wrap Meghna in his own. Before long, both decide the best way to warm themselves is through mutual passion.

I haven't witnessed anything this ludicrous since Aa Gale Lag Jaa, when poor freezing Sharmila Tagore had to be "warmed up" by Shashi Kapoor through body heat alone.

Predictably, the truth emerges, the marriage collapses and divorce swiftly follows.

Enter Raj Malhotra (Akshay Kumar), a hugely successful film star who, despite all his fame and fortune, apparently cannot find himself a date. Surrounded by the usual trio of comic relief—Himani Shivpuri, Shakti Kapoor and Kader Khan—his life changes the moment Pooja enters it. Naturally he proposes marriage and she appears willing to accept.

Naturally, too, the manager of the very hotel where this proposal takes place just happens to be none other than a heartbroken, stubble-faced, permanently miserable Shiv.

So what happens next?

Yawn... yawn...

Will Pooja abandon the kind, wealthy and thoroughly decent Raj for her cheating ex-husband, whose infidelity apparently qualifies as nothing more than a "chhoti si baat"? Will she finally see sense? Or is this yet another variation on the age-old Bollywood dilemma that one can only ever love once? Perhaps Raj and Shiv will simply run away together instead?

I'm sure you're all dying to know the ending, so I shan't spoil the surprise.

Surprise?

Get real.

The only surprise is that there isn't one.

What an absolute dog's dinner Dharmesh Darshan has served up this time. There isn't even one per cent originality in the screenplay, nor is there a convincing emotional foundation on which the story can rest. Everything is so hideously predictable that one derives a strange, almost perverse pleasure from wincing every time another dreadful dialogue or tired cliché appears on screen. Even Darshan's usually attractive song picturisations disappoint, effectively wasting the one genuine advantage the film possesses—Nadeem-Shravan's music. The film is over-lit to the point where one occasionally feels blinded, while other scenes are inexplicably filmed through a hazy blur. Even the sets look embarrassingly artificial, with Raj's lavish mansion sporting what is very obviously a painted garden backdrop.

The performances are equally uninspiring.

This must rank amongst Karisma Kapoor's weakest performances. Loud, shrill and utterly lacking in charm, she reminds you that she is not an instinctive actress but one who has to work extremely hard. She worked hard in Raja Hindustani and produced a commendable performance. Here she simply overacts throughout. The only thing working in her favour is Manish Malhotra's superb wardrobe.

Abhishek Bachchan, still searching for that elusive breakthrough role, appears awkward during much of the first half but fares slightly better later when his permanently forlorn expression at least suits the character. It is hardly an impressive performance, though I remain convinced that all he really needs is the right role in the right film before those already writing his obituary are forced to think again.

Akshay Kumar enters only after the interval in what is essentially an extension of his role from Dhadkan. He brings a certain natural charm to the part, although it is hardly his fault that the dialogue is so embarrassing and the character so hopelessly predictable.

Musically, Nadeem-Shravan contribute an attractive score with some pleasing orchestration.

On the whole, this is a crass and often exasperating film—almost an assault on one's sensibilities—but, strangely enough, I found myself enjoying it for entirely the wrong reasons.