One Two Three Movie review
Comedy has become a compromise in cinema. Noise, nonsense and no-brainer pass off as humour. Wit is on a vacation and slapstick is here to stay.
The plot of One Two Three is devised on the archaic idea of mistaken identities to conjure up a comedy of errors. While David Dhawan and Priyadarshan have partially applied this formula in their films, director Ashwini Dheer excogitates his entire movie on this convention. ‘What’s in a name’ said William Shakespeare. Were the bard alive today, he would have only apologized for coining a phrase that instigated Bollywood to make a frenzied film hell-bent to prove the idiom wrong. One Two Three has three persons by the same name who land up at the same hotel to induce you the same trauma of watching the same slapstick story again.
Tusshar Kapoor as Lamxinarayan 1 plays a wannabe don which is as much analogous to his real-life character of a struggling actor. Despite repeated attempts he fails to make it big in the mafia (or movie-dom). He’s on his last chance to redeem himself in the underworld with a contract killing. As he is the only eligible bachelor (i.e. amongst the cast of the film), the director makes him indulge in an affair with a Madrasi Miss (Esha Deol) who designs underwear. The girl justifies their chemistry quoting, “I design underwear because I was always fascinated with the underworld”. Oh so underwhelming!
Suniel Shetty arrives as Laxminarayan 2 with all his dialogues designed to end with an interrogation mark, something more grueling than the constabulary grilling. His boss abuses him with the choicest of ‘familiar’ profanities for his annoying and irrelevant left-right-left questioning sessions. Perhaps that’s the only realistic scene of the film as the audience can completely relate with his boss’ sentiments.
Paresh Rawal sums up for Laxminarayan 3 who proudly proclaims to read the innermost feelings… oops fittings of every woman in the town. He is a lingerie hawker with an eagle-eye which can ‘figure out’ every female measurement to perfection. And the Delhi aunties only take pride in getting evaluated by his x-ray vision. Its persuasion and not perversion, they believe. ‘Bra’vo!
The film also employs the customary conspiracy of hidden diamonds, which has become mandatory to almost all comedy films of today. The diamond worth crores lands in the hands of a couple (Upen Patel – Tanisha) who work as salesperson in a car showroom. Even the antique cars in their showroom show more screen presence than this plastic pair. The diamond gives way for the conventional car chases, chaos and confusion in the climax, so reminiscent of Priyadarshan film finales.
Want to sample some more caricature characters? There are plenty. There is a mafia kingpin called… no not Godfather… but Papa (Mukesh Tiwari) who pluralizes every English word in his speech adding an s to it. But his gags don’t evoke laughter even singularly. He has two henchmen named ‘Albert’ and ‘Pinto’. By now the director shouldn’t ask audience ko gussa kyun aata hain. How one wishes the writer had paid more attention in sketching a more eventful screenplay than concentrating on creating rhymes in Manoj Pahwa’s dialogues. As compensation, they should have at-least not edited out Sameera Reddy’s lingerie long-shot. Bikini’s the best she can display. And it’s anytime better than Paresh Rawal’s petrified look in the same shot.
Suniel Shetty underplays his character to such an extent that even the regularly repetitive Rawal’s act comes across as much relief (but only) in comparison. Tusshar Kapoor should take tips from colleague Uday Chopra and gift himself (and the audiences) voluntary retirement from acting. Esha Deol perfectly compliments her onscreen costar (Tusshar Kapoor) but in his off-screen infamy repute. Since Sameera can’t get into the skin of character, she should stick to displaying the skin of her character. Upen Patel and Tanishaa should join the art department as the best they qualify is as decorative artifacts. Surprisingly from the entire cast, its side-comedian Sanjay Mishra who induces the leftover laughs by imitating yesteryear villain Jeevan in this lame attempt at comedy.
One Two Three doesn’t let you scot-free. You have to pay the price of losing your sanity. If comedies continue to be the same, we might soon lose our sense of humour too.