Something Bad is Good For You

Those of us who’ve been around the park a few times know that there’s nothing like a bad film,merely. That’s like saying roses are red,and violets are blue. The zillion shades in between get lost. There’s bad. There’s the speechless “Oh my god,what is this?” bad. There’s “This is a film?” incredulous,pick-your-jaw-off-the-floor bad. Move southward now. There’s ghastly. There’s beyond bad. There’s unbearable. And if you’re really,really lucky,there’s “so bad it’s good”.

My tolerance for bad-badder-baddest is Everest high. It has to be,otherwise survival Friday-to-Friday when movies come and go,and we go with the ebb and flow,would be questionable. But even for me,the week that’s gone past has been a benchmark. I left not one,but two movies,on two ­successive days.

And that set me thinking. Have I lost my infinite capacity to watch bad movies? See,here I am veering dangerously near the simplistic good/bad category which I’ve scrupulously kept away from,much to the despair of people who want to be able to see a like/dislike button before they make a choice. Watching Chargesheet,which is nothing but Hindi cinema’s youngest leading man’s quest for eternity,though,was a huge relief. Gentle readers,I was riveted,from beginning to end. And then it came to me. It is not me. Filmmakers are losing the ability to make genuine “so bad they are good” films: Chargesheet brought the joys of watching such gems flooding back.

Anyone can make a bad film. To make a “so bad it’s good” film,you need to have a voice that’s completely your own. Can anyone,88 years or not,even possess the tip tilt that has been Dev Anand’s trademark ever since he broke into the movies? Can anyone else say pachaaaaas karod ki deeeeaaaal (dialogue; Chargesheet) with the same inimitable stretchiness? He was young when Hindi cinema was young. He was the epitome of the dashing lover,hair a curlmark over the forehead,a smile that realised that crooked was sexy,and a way of walking that challenged the mere ninety-degree-to-the-ground hero.

This is not about Dev Anand’s filmography,though it’s easy to slip into nostalgia mode with this beloved star who sparkled in black and white through some of the most memorable films ever made. Or lip-synced to the songs we still sing when we think of love and life and how to lead it with a spring in the step,or a tear in the voice. Or when that special someone is leaving,even for a moment,and we do not want to see them go. That Dev marched jauntily into colour,with girls that kept getting younger. He started the trend of picking stunning models off the runway,and putting them into movies. And wrapping colourful mufflers around his ageing neck.

It’s not even about the reluctant admiration mixed with constant stupefaction about a man who refuses to go away,given that he seems to have forgotten the basic art (and craft) of creating something that has grace.

This is about what comes out of the head of a man who’s seen it all,and who has,for the past few years,been delivering drivel. I know manic fans of Dev saab,as everyone who loves him addresses him,who are ready to murder me when I say that his recent work has been rubbish. What else do you call a film that seems to have been conjured out of thin air and goodwill,with ­actors who seem to be there because the director is someone they can’t say no to (Naseer),or owe their career to (Jackie),some jobless extras who wander around in the mistaken notion that they are acting,the debutant women possessing large,unfettered bosoms,the men possessing nothing. Through it all,though,Dev Anand’s fading imprimatur is visible. It is inimitably,unmistakably his,despite the sheer terribleness of the film.

But the two films I walked out of had no such redeeming qualities. They offered likeable actors,and directors who ought to have known better,but these monstrosities are undoubtedly going to be counted amongst the worst. These are the ones that are so bad that they are plain,unremittingly,unredeemingly bad. You leave because they leave you with no other option.

shubhra.gupta @expressindia.com