Bollywooded!

People told me a great many things before it was even released - “It is not a movie, it is a product to be consumed”, “It's like Main Hoon Na – some silly shit passing off as cinema”. People told me other things after they'd seen it - “The second half drags”, “Deepika is hot!”, and lastly, the comment that I find most unreasonable – “Leave your brains outside the cinema hall, and enter – you'll enjoy it.”

When I stood in the large lobby of Prasad's Multiplex, waiting to watch the only Shah Rukh Khan movie I hadn't yet seen, I had my brains in my hand – wondering whether I should run back, leave them in the car, or take them in and challenge the Association of Enlightened Critics of India. I'm glad I chose well.

When I entered, I saw Bollywood's greatest film of the twenty-first century – while Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi inspired awe, Rang De Basanti turned bored college students into murderers, Dil Chahta Hai made men hang out in groups of three sporting little triangle beards under their lips, Yuva inspired political parties, Black gut-wrenched away to glory, Maqbool and Omkara chilled, Om Shanti Om decided to celebrate.

And the subject of the celebration was perfect – Bollywood. From the audacity of the opening sequence from Karz to the cuteness of the end-credits, OSO was perfect. The jokes kept coming in a barrage, quick one-liners, and large set-pieces were woven into one another like deft touches and stunning movement in the Brazilian midfield. Deepika showed the world that her misadventure with Upendra in the Kannada smash-hit Aishwarya was a one-off mistake.

Actually, I need to say more about Deepika – she can act. She's pulled off the 70s superstar and college girl from Bangalore roles to perfection. Her chemistry with Shah Rukh Khan is especially brilliant – in that she was able to do both, play the admired and the admirer, and maintain the duality of her two personas (personae?). And, she is hot, very hot. That helps. (She is, hereby cast in the lead role in the movie version of Love Brinjal.)

OSO is not a repetition of age-old formulae, it is a reminder of their enduring nature. Every plot-twist, every line, every word, every action is a tribute to a style of filmmaking. The song with 31 stars evokes unparalleled nostalgia, the mother, the faithful friend, the corrupt-womanising-businessman-villain, gyrations on gaudy sets, excessive melodrama over red powder worn on forehead, all take us back to all those years of balcony seats and channel-flipping. And yet, I was drawn into the plot. I had seen it all unfold in movies before, yet I wanted to see it once more. And this is where OSO scores.

And what about logic? What about reason? What about meaningful cinema? Why was the Universe created? Did we ask for logic in all those movies where reincarnations always resemble their previous life selves? Did we even question reincarnation? Did we ask for reasons when a small-looking hero beat up scores of bald-headed, dunce-faced toughies? Did we ask for reasons when the villain had this missile with three heads aimed at Bombay, Madras and Calcutta? Did we ask for reasons when asshirvaads from maas counted for more than studying for the exam? Did we ask for reasons when NRIs had strong Indian accents and could recognise the smells of Punjab? Did we even ask where most movies were set?

OSO doesn't require you to stop asking these questions – it only celebrates the fact that none of us ever did.

So, take your brains in, and with your brains, your Bollywood sensibilities – watch with awe as Deepika acts like a reincarnation of Hema Malini, cringe at Shak Rukh Khan's ventures into topless waters, laugh, cry, sing, dance and enjoy yourself as you've done all these years, because it is when you leave your brains behind that you ask for reasons. When you take them in, logic and reason are plain for everyone to see.