Rating: *Director: Devang DholakiaCast: Sunny Leone, Ram Kapoor, Evelyn Sharma, Navdeep Chabbra, Suchita Trivedi, Mehul Buch

COMMERCIAL BREAK
SCROLL TO CONTINUE READING

What it's about: KKLH is based on a highly successful Gujarati play, Lage Raho Gujjubhai. Ram Kapoor plays Praveen Patel aka PP, a Gujarati shopkeeper based in Malaysia. He has a loud wife (Suchita Trivedi) who is obsessed with bringing a typical Gujarati bahu for her useless son (Navdeep Chhabra), while trying to ignore his girlfriend (Evelyn Sharma) who is strutting around the house in skimpy clothes. And yes, the wife also breaks into garba every now and then because, you know… she is a Gujarati!

PP is obsessed with Shanaya, a hot Bollywood heroine. He gets to participate in a reality show where he wins a date with his dream girl by crooked methods and giving nonsensical answers to nonsensical questions. During the date, he tries to impress her by lying that he is single and that he stays with his old father. Shanaya insists that she wants to stay with him as a part of her method acting (okay, stop sniggering! ) for a role as a Gujarati housewife. Trapped in his own lies, he decides to make up a fake family, first by sending his wife off to India and then making his own son and his girlfriend, his parents. To torture us further, his best friend (Mehul Buch) also enters the fray as his fake uncle, who drools and pants over Shanaya whenever she is around!

What’s hot: Sunny Leone. She is the only reason half a dozen people were there in that near empty theatre. And for those kinky ones, you also get a bonus when Evelyn Sharma makes her entry wearing only a two-piece. That’s it! I assure you the only other thing I found mildly interesting in this two and a half hour of slow torture, was the lone couple making out at the end of my row, and the fracas that happened when the theatre usher drove them out!

What’s not: The real work starts here…

As I mentioned before, the film is based on a Gujarati play, but the director, Devang Dholakia, should have realised that the sensibilities of a play and a movie are entirely different. You can get away with loud theatricality in a play, but it’s unforgivable when you use it in a movie. The movie falters in every department. The screenplay lags at many junctures. It can only attributed to the comedy not working out for even a single dialogue. The first half meanders here and there, with less of Sunny Leone and more of Ram Kapoor. The second half may have more Sunny Leone, but so does every other irritating character in the movie. Also, when Indian cinema is looking out to compete with the best of the West, why do our mainstream film-makers always look for stereotypes to create titters? Just because you have a Gujarati family in the center, you have to make them break into garba every now and then, and also have them mention dhokla and khakra at every available opportunity. Just because you have a South Indian supporting character, you have to make them utter idli-dosa at least once! And don’t get me talking about hairdressers always being depicted effeminate and garishly loud.

The background score looks like a cut-copy-paste job out of a Tom and Jerry Show. The visuals by Akin Sebastian are just about okay. The songs seem forced, as if to tell you, that you still have the chance to run out of the theatre alive. Also, I have this question to ask all Bollywood filmmakers – Why do you have to ruin our lovely memories by making Sunny gyrate to every iconic Hindi song? First it was 'Dholi Taaro' in Ek Paheli…Leela, and now Saagar‘s 'Jaane Do Na' in KKLH. Are our current music directors so lazy that they themselves can’t make a great sizzling song?

Coming to the performances. Ram Kapoor, or at least his family, needs to fire his agent right away. It was disgusting enough to see the wonderful actor humiliate himself in Humshakals, and now this! His over-the-top act in Mere Dad Ki Maruti was cute; here it’s a super drag! Suchita Trivedi hams big time, and so does Mehul Buch. Evelyn Sharma is hot; that’s the only reason why she is there in the film. I am yet to find more than two expressions on the newcomer Navdeep Chhabra’s face, though he had more scenes than Sunny Leone herself, and is even more scantily dressed than her. Special mention must, however, be given to the actor who played the role of the faux-Italian hairdresser. It requires admirable talent and determination to be the most irritating of the lot, even when you appear in only three scenes.

What to do: I would not even recommend this movie to Sunny Leone fans. Compared to KKLH, even Jism 2 feels like Citizen Kane (Okay, now I am going over-the-top!). Can anyone recommend a nice painkiller for a throbbing headache?