27 November,2021 07:35 AM IST | Mumbai | Mayank Shekhar
A still from Satyameva Jayate 2
Soon as you plonk into the favourite seat in the theatre, this film frickin' smacks you so hard in the head from the screen - totally cross-eyed, you begin to see jock John Abraham in twos, and eventually in threes.
No kidding, the third one, you realise in the âBharat Milap' moment when the other two meet, is a mustachioed Johnny. Standing as a massive statue, holding a pickaxe. That's the twin Johnnies' papa! Say yes, Papa? Now let's move on to figure WTF (Wednesday, Thursday, Friday) is going on here.
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If you really wanna know - a lot of foot fetish in this triple-role traumedy, about one Johnny, who's a cop; and the other, the state's home minister, no less. Papa is dead, only to be resurrected, after much ruin, in the film's second half. By foot fetish, I mean the camera obsessed with introducing each character (Johnnies included), with the close-up of feet or boots.
The money shot, of course, belongs to the scene, where Johnny, the cop, saves a girl's izzat, against a gang of goons. In turn they taunt him for being able to do what he does, because he's wearing a uniform. Promptly Johnny tells them, he knows exactly what they want:
"Public demands the same. Say you wanna see my body (watch me naked)."
This is when the camera, like a drone, zooms in from John's navel, travelling across his six-pack abs, for a full body tour, torso onwards. There is a crowd gathered in the scene, clapping, with sounds embedded to suggest the same from crowds in theatres. Except no one else around me. This clip gets an encore later.
But this scene, going further, takes the (beef) cake. John extols virtues of the Indian woman (who needs saving nonetheless). The national anthem begins to play right then. So he must stand in respect. Baddies beat him up then.
Soon as the anthem is over, he takes the flag pole with the tricolour, planting it on the villain's private part. Growling to the villain, who must now pee from the backside, because the instrument is broken.
No, wut? Just had to get this graphic. Simply for you to sense how this is such a sasta Salman circus; seriously. What's the punch line of that scene, that recurs as well? "Tan man dhan se badhkar, jan man gan." Fun? Maybe.
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Not if you're John Abraham, to be honest - a working lead-actor for 18 years, reduced to a piece of six-feet brown meat; medium, rare. And this goes beyond him lifting a motorcycle on his head; tearing a boardroom table apart with a punch; dismantling a car, likewise; or three Johns holding a helicopter down. This is plain torture for an actor, pushed into verbal diarrhoea at the snap of the filmmakers' fingers.
Even if a character asks Cop John what his jurisdiction is, he starts blabbering: Kutch, Baramulla, shamshaan, Pakistan, murga, Durga⦠Every line is like the arrow from the '80s Ramayan. Only John releasing them, to no one in particular. Because, poor guy - apparently in the interest of some mainstream audiences. You, Team Baan, bro?
Only fans of Gunda/Kanti Shah will love this though. Given a relentless string of bad rhymes that follow: Aulaad, faulaad, musalmaan, matdaan, naari, bhaari, mootega, tootega, toofan, chattaan, chooriyan, hathkadiyan, aaj, yamraj, khadi, khaki, mujra, jigra, dahaadta, phaadta, Ganga, tirangaâ¦
Twin Johns are vigilantes, by the way. Cop John beats up cops as well. Inside the cop station. Behind closed doors, asking this subordinate inspector to keep laughing while getting bashed up. The fellow sitting outside says, "The guy is laughing, as if he's watching sequel of super-hit film Satyameva Jayate!" Nope.
Home Minister John is a killing machine by night, going around piling up heaps of dead bodies along the way. Weighing in on what this level of unhinged, extra-judicial violence/killings must mean in the state of Uttar Pradesh, where this film is set, is as much a pointless intellectual exercise as lauding the filmmakers' respect for people of all religions, in order to drive home the point of national integration.
This is just a dumb film, starring the same three dumb-bells for the price of one. Designed by an algorithm to go from a religious song to an item number, a rural second half to an urban first, and three lookalikes solving every national problem there is - from food poisoning (that requires oxygen cylinders), female violence, faulty flyover, Lokpal Bill, to farmers' rights.
I know what you're asking: Why did I walk in, in the first place; what did I expect anyway? As with many forms of unconditional love, sometimes, there is a toxic relationship some of us share with movies. We can watch all kinds of crap in a dark hall, for hours. Can you watch this mayhem around John? Bravo to you too then!
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