Wah Tera Kya Kehna (2002)
Cast: Govinda, Raveena Tandon, Preeti Jhangiani
Director: Manoj Agarwal
Music Director: Jatin Lalit
Synopsis: Govinda proving that he is way past his sell by date
Reviewed by: Faiz Khan

 

Another Govinda vehicle that disappeared without leaving even the faintest tyre marks at the box office.

To some extent, one could understand the fate of Akhiyon Se Goli Maare, a film that had spent what felt like geological time in production and finally arrived looking as fresh as week-old baasi roti. Waah! Tera Kya Kehna, however, was a comparatively new production, making its spectacular collapse rather more puzzling.

Mind you, perhaps it shouldn't have been.

Rumours before release suggested that Raveena Tandon played a negative role, yet there is absolutely no evidence of such a character anywhere in the finished film. Clearly, this is not the movie that originally went before the cameras.

Raj Oberoi (Govinda) is the adored grandson of wealthy patriarch Shammi Kapoor. Following an accident, however, Raj has been transformed into a stammering, childlike simpleton, surrounded by greedy relatives who spend every waking moment plotting to inherit Grandpa's fortune.

If that sounds familiar, it should.

We've seen this family countless times before, particularly in Govinda's films.

The only person who still believes in Raj is Meena (Preeti Jhangiani), despite her horrified parents wondering why on earth their daughter should marry someone they regard as a complete moron.

A lengthy flashback follows, taking us—as always—to Switzerland, where Raj and Meena frolic amongst mountains while discussing the legendary romances of Coco and Popo in scenes supposedly intended to be hilarious.

They're anything but.

Raj storms off after hearing of Meena's alleged past romance, receives a mobile phone call while driving, attempts a dramatic U-turn... and promptly crashes headlong into a truck.

The moral?

Don't drive while talking on your mobile.

With Raj conveniently out of the way, the villainous relatives murder Grandpa and dispatch Raj to a hill station with Murari (Kader Khan). Then comes the inevitable landslide, Raj disappears beneath a mountain of mud, and Murari promptly discovers a travelling qawwal named Banne who looks exactly like Raj.

Naturally.

The impersonation begins so the fortune can be reclaimed from the murderous relatives.

And from there the film descends into complete and utter insanity.

To describe the remainder would merely prolong the pain.

There isn't a single original idea anywhere in the screenplay. Every scene feels borrowed from half a dozen earlier Govinda films, all of which did the same thing infinitely better. One is left wondering whether the screenplay was actually written before filming began or simply invented one scene at a time as shooting progressed.

The frightening thing is that somebody, somewhere, apparently believed audiences would still lap this up.

Perhaps once upon a time they would have.

Not anymore.

The Govinda formula has simply run out of road.

Watching Govinda spend half the film stammering and lisping is an endurance test rather than entertainment. His second role as Banne Khan fares little better, feeling like yet another variation on characters he has played repeatedly over the previous decade.

Raveena Tandon hams shamelessly without ever making much impression.

As for Preeti Jhangiani, I still fail to understand the industry's fascination with her. Pleasant enough perhaps, but she possesses neither the screen presence, acting ability nor charisma necessary to carry a leading role. One suspects she imagined that signing a Govinda comedy would propel her into the big league.

Not quite.

Jatin-Lalit's music is astonishingly poor. It is sad to hear composers once capable of producing genuinely memorable melodies reduced to turning out such uninspired work. The nadir is surely I Want Money, sung by Govinda himself—a song so aggressively awful that it makes Meri Pant Bhi Sexy sound positively sophisticated by comparison.

Those days are gone.

Audiences have moved on.

Sadly, Govinda hadn't.

I had the unique misfortune of watching Akhiyon Se Goli Maare and Waah! Tera Kya Kehna on the same day. It felt less like a day at the cinema and more like attending a comedy horror festival.

If there was ever a warning that the tried-and-tested Govinda formula had finally expired, this was it. The bigger question was whether anyone would give him the opportunity to reinvent himself before it was too late.