Nikki Jaee Haan (1999)
Cast: Reema, Saima, Moammar Rana, Deeba Begum
Director: Masood Butt
Synopsis: Village melodrama involving two best friends falling for the same guy…oops!
Reviewed by: Omar Khan

In rural Punjab, life is blissful for two inseparable young girlfriends— Lajo Rani (Reema) and Noorie (Saima). Lajo, the more glam of the two, is the sister of the Village Chaudhry—a fact underlined by his naff headgear, to which he is very emotionally attached, almost like Linus and his security blanket, only more obsessive. The other telltale sign of his Chaudriness is the impeccable styling of his moustache.

He is an all-mighty Chaudhry, as a proper Chaudhry should be, and is loved and respected in the community as a kind and fair man. He adores his spunky, mischievous sister Lajo, even though she hangs out with a friend who is a mere commoner with no Chaudhry connections.

One fine day, the two girls come across just-arrived city hunk Murad (Rana), who makes a massive impression on both girls with his smouldering good looks. Both girls are obsessed and burst into ten-minute songs in their nightly dreams where they change outfits at least six times amidst gallons and gallons of dry ice billowing about.

Reema looks ravishing in most of the outlandish outfits despite their gaudiness. The other girl, Saima, isn’t half as saucy but knows how to pluck her eyebrows. She has taken the garden shears to them and emerged looking like a junior version of Madam Bahar—without the flaring nostrils, though. Both girls fancy Murad like crazy and often go to bed carrying his picture for fantasizing sessions.

Much to our disappointment, Rana shuns the siren for plucked eyebrows, finding happiness in her arms in the local crop field. Both girls fall madly in love with Rana, but neither lets on until a theatrical sprinting scene where a collision results in all sorts of beans being spilt, and Lajo’s dreams are momentarily shattered.

There follows much overhearing and misunderstanding, and poor girl Noorie sacrifices her love for Rana. She is disgraced when our Chaudhry rules against her at a Kangaroo court trial, and she is remanded on a suspended sentence of days and days of grinding mounds of flour as a punishment for her errant ways. (She was spotted frolicking in the fields with Rana).

Meanwhile, we are shown how callous the wealthy are and how earnest and golden-hearted the poor folk are. There are numerous scenes designed for maximum emotional impact and tear induction. What remains to be seen is how the tangled web of intrigue and misunderstanding will be untangled—as it is destined to be. One of the film’s intriguing aspects is the fabulous the architectural specimen used as the Chaudhry’s magnificent residence—resplendent with Kaleidoscope colours cascading out from every corner and direction, lest you forget just how wealthy our Chaudhry is. The kitsch art deco look he has designed with his funky furniture and accessories is straight out of Architectural Digest!

The song sequences seem to be where the producers incur maximum budget expenditure, as the beauties are given half a dozen makeovers within the one song alone. The lad is spruced up a bit, though, in this film, Rana doesn’t own a razor as he is always unshaven, wearing a highly trendy six-day shadow. Though he is a presentable lad, he is let down by his squeaky, un-masculine voice—a massive

Nikki Jaee Haan setback in sub-continental cinema for a male actor. He becomes unbearably shrill and whiny during the dramatic scenes when he shouts. The high points of this movie are these sequences and the songs they accompany. The songs have HIT written all over them.

Madam Deeba—siren of the ‘70s—is now doing drab mother roles—the natural progression for actresses in the industry and life. Overall, it’s a poorly directed, shambolic affair, tedious for the most part. Only Reema’s vampish performance lends some spark to an otherwise dull experience catering to the lowest common denominator.

Admittedly, the Noor Jehan clone songs are rather catchy and one or two among the better tunes of recent times. We are also spared the customary heaps of violence and bloodshed for once. Yet, this film lacked sufficient quantities of what we look for in our Punjabi movies—Oomph, masala, attitude and dollops, and high-grade sleaze. Middling piffle, not awful enough to be genuinely worthwhile.

However, considering the general standard of fare churned out, it can even be considered a triumph.