Where we were
The average Hindi movie from the 1970s went like this: Boy from a working class poor family meets rich spoilt bitch...er, Girl from privileged background. Boy breaks in Girl and makes Girl see the value of poverty. Girl decides to cock a snook at rich Dad (played by Om Shiv Puri) and get married to Boy. Dad, in an attempt to foul things up, sends 40 goons (400 if the boy happened to be Amitabh Bachchan; 4 if the boy was Rishi Kapoor) to beat up Boy. For some unspecified reason, this gang of mean looking dudes was always led by Prem Chopra, or, if the producer was on a budget, Ranjeet. In any event, Boy bravely fights off goons, using a combination of anatomically impossible fighting moves and a curious sound that appears to the untrained ear like dee-shoom.
In some movies, the police, who are obviously working on Paris standard time, and are mysteriously always led by Anita Raj's Dad, arrive late on the scene with the earnest intent of breaking up fight and rescuing Boy.
Girl's Dad, terribly impressed by Boy's musky machoness and disgusted with the overall quality of Hindi movie goons, sees the error of his ways and decides that marrying his daughter off to a person who is basically, not to put too fine a point on it, a slum dweller, may not be such a bad idea after all. The movie ends on a happy note with everybody, including Anita Raj's Dad, giving their blessings to the newlyweds.
What is the state of the art now?
I am happy to report that we've made rapid progress since the 1970s. The average Hindi movie of the new millenium now goes like this: Boy, possibly from having invested in technology stock, is now from well-off family. Girl is still spoilt rotten; this is now ok with the boy, he doesn't mind. Girl's Dad, for some puzzling reason, still doesn't like Boy. The goons are still around, their IQs hovering around the 50 point mark from having their faces punched to a mushy pulp by Hindi movie heroes since the 1970s.
Girl's Dad, in the misbegotten hope of fouling up the wedding, sends the (by now) half-wit goons after Boy. On his command, the goons lurch forward, this simple, hopeful thought forming inside their damaged brains, "Maybe this time, we'll beat him up." Boy, who has by now mastered a new Matrix-style flying move, massacres the hapless morons.
The police, figuring out that Boy is well able to take care of himself, and it is a waste of petrol trying to save him, don't bother to show up anymore. The movie ends on a happy note when Dad shells out mega-bucks to host a lavish wedding which costs as much as the combined GDP of several small African countries.
So you see, we have come far and the viewer now has a lot of choice. Personally, I plan on sticking to books.
In some movies, the police, who are obviously working on Paris standard time, and are mysteriously always led by Anita Raj's Dad, arrive late on the scene with the earnest intent of breaking up fight and rescuing Boy.
Girl's Dad, terribly impressed by Boy's musky machoness and disgusted with the overall quality of Hindi movie goons, sees the error of his ways and decides that marrying his daughter off to a person who is basically, not to put too fine a point on it, a slum dweller, may not be such a bad idea after all. The movie ends on a happy note with everybody, including Anita Raj's Dad, giving their blessings to the newlyweds.
What is the state of the art now?
I am happy to report that we've made rapid progress since the 1970s. The average Hindi movie of the new millenium now goes like this: Boy, possibly from having invested in technology stock, is now from well-off family. Girl is still spoilt rotten; this is now ok with the boy, he doesn't mind. Girl's Dad, for some puzzling reason, still doesn't like Boy. The goons are still around, their IQs hovering around the 50 point mark from having their faces punched to a mushy pulp by Hindi movie heroes since the 1970s.
Girl's Dad, in the misbegotten hope of fouling up the wedding, sends the (by now) half-wit goons after Boy. On his command, the goons lurch forward, this simple, hopeful thought forming inside their damaged brains, "Maybe this time, we'll beat him up." Boy, who has by now mastered a new Matrix-style flying move, massacres the hapless morons.
The police, figuring out that Boy is well able to take care of himself, and it is a waste of petrol trying to save him, don't bother to show up anymore. The movie ends on a happy note when Dad shells out mega-bucks to host a lavish wedding which costs as much as the combined GDP of several small African countries.
So you see, we have come far and the viewer now has a lot of choice. Personally, I plan on sticking to books.
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