Haathi Mere Saathi (1993)
Cast: Mohsin Khan, Jan Rembo, Reema, Sahiba, Shafqat Cheema
Director: Shamim Ara
Synopsis: If you thought Munda Bigra Jaye was an intellectual and stylistic nightmare, you are in for another horror show with this horrendous piece of brain-dead garbage.
Reviewed by: Omar Khan

Urdu cinema had a shot in the arm in the early '90s when Haathi Mere Saathi celebrated massive success at the Box Office and then a Nigar “Best Film" Award the same year as icing on the cake. Shamim Ara had hit a formula that seemed to work, and crowds thronged back to cinemas after a barren run.

The film is another of Ms Ara's many joint productions, and this time, she starts with Mohsin Khan prancing around like an ape in the jungle. He is supposedly protecting the wildlife from poachers, which seems to be a promising start. Maybe this could be the first Pakistani film that approaches the subject of animal rights or cruelty to animals. Still, that wishful thinking evaporates quickly as the film introduces Afzaal Khan, AKA Jon Rembo. His antics and buffoonery proved tortuous in Munda Bigra Jaye, and he starts in a similar vein: hideously juvenile.

Mohsin Khan's jungle trip is cut short as the warden's wife accuses him of being a crook and drags him away to prison. Upon his release, he encounters Jon Rembo, and the two of them become entangled by fate as they escape a posse of chasing cops. Rembo takes him to have the bullet in his leg removed in scenes that are supposed to be uproariously funny. One can imagine the junta roaring with laughter at the utterly juvenile level of comedy that leaves you worrying about your brain matter and whether you may survive the next two and a half hours of this utterly hideous slow torture. Reema joins the "fun" and proceeds to dance in a blue sari (cue Sridevi from Mr India), and a dreadful copycat song follows. Blatant plagiarism but most unflattering. Reema's dance is all twitching and gyrating and anything but sexy. The film lurches from one "comic" scenario to another, and Sahiba joins in proceedings as Rembo's love interest. At this stage, the remaining two hours appear looming like a death sentence, and the film becomes impossibly difficult to watch with even the slightest level of interest.

Haathi Mere Saathi is loud, boisterous, ugly, and so utterly juvenile that despite being alone while watching it, you can sense yourself in danger of destroying brain cells. There is little point in going into plot details as the film showcases Jon Rembo's dreadful attempt at recreating a Munawar Zareef-like persona. Rembo fails at this endeavour monumentally and ends up excruciating and tedious.

Watching this film is no less than an endurance test; had I been in a cinema, I would have left the cinema within half an hour. Finding words to describe this film's dire from any angle of film-making craft is difficult. There are no redeeming features, and it is depressing to think that audiences lapped up this utterly hideous film, turning it into a massive success.

The film breathed a collective sigh of relief as Rembo and Shamim Ara appeared to have halted the downward spiral since the day of the advent of the VCR. This film illustrated very clearly that anyone who preferred a more polished and well-crafted product would be watching pirate DVDs from Bollywood in the comfort of their homes. Lollywood cinema of the mid-1990s was explicitly created for those who didn't have easy access to a DVD player or a VCR. That being the lowest rung on the economic scale. Deprived of education and weaned on brain-dead local products. Most Urdu cinema watchers

Haathi Mere Saathi indulged wholeheartedly in Shahrukh Khan's and Salman Khan's films. The two became two of the most adored faces throughout Pakistan, and their movies and the songs from these films played on every street corner.

Local films continued in this wretched vein, with filmmakers flogging the formula to death, and even the most undiscerning viewers were ready to move on.

The 1990s proved to be the darkest era of Pakistani cinema, and films like Haathi Mere Saathi may have been Box Office hits, but they were of incredibly dreadful quality. It is depressing that these films are considered landmark achievements in Lollywood history, and Jan Rembo elevated to superstar status. The man is not without a certain amount of talent, but sadly, the level he had to pander to was incredibly crass. Mind numbingly crass.

Watching Haathi Mere Saathi reminded me of when I was watching Rob Zombies' horror film "31" in a Film Festival. I squirmed in my seat, wondering how to get out from the cinema without causing a disturbance. I sat it out, but it was excruciating. With Haathi Mere Saathi, at least I endured as much as physically and mentally possible before the experience proved hideous. So, this review is based on the amount that could be tolerated without becoming physically ill. I may have seen worse movies than this, but even a film as atrocious as Trog seems like a masterwork in comparison. Even films like the cheap South Indian morning show dubbed sex films are easier to endure than this horror show. If you want to test your endurance, try Haathi Mere Saathi, and let's see how far you make it. The film is about as unwatchable as any film I have ever experienced in a lifetime of movie viewing. It's offensive, insulting, degrading, loud, cheap, ugly and deeply depressing. One word that best describes the experience is torture.