In my unsuccessful quest of finding a buddy to watch Sachin Yardi’s Kya Super Kool Hain Hum with me, I came to realize a few things: I seem to be the only one openly admitting to wanting to watch this film, and that many people take their superior taste in cinema quite seriously. But I was out to prove many wrong and find a gem that folks were too proud to appreciate. And as someone who enjoyed this film’s predecessor, Kya Kool Hain Hum (specifically three scenes which involved Naseeruddin Shah, a cigarette butt and a cat) and films such as Masti and the Golmaal series, I was excited to watch a laugh riot. But as the film progressed, each scene took my hopes down a notch to the point that I became what is considered sacrilegious in a movie theater: a passive viewer.
Kya Super Kool Hain Hum (KSKHH) is produced by ALT Entertainment, the edgy, urban youth oriented offshoot of powerhouse Balaji Productions. If you have seen the trailers you know the makers have made it loud and clear that the film is well, loud. Very loud. KSKHH doesn’t shirk from what it’s selling, which is adult comedy positioned to outshine all the films made in the genre.
It’s quite the task to describe a film that has no story (and this is no exaggeration), so I shall be polite and call it a film driven by characters …straight into the ground. Adi (Tusshar) is a struggling actor who makes a living doing tacky infomercials while his friend Sid (Riteish Deshmukh) is a small time DJ trying to make it big, but must instead rely on cheesy garbas to provide him with work. These are guys who want to be idols, but are instead, idle (this joke is straight from the film). Paired opposite to the men are the beautiful ladies Simran (Neha Sharma) and Anu (Sarah Jane Dias). Simran is deemed sweet and carefree because she owns a car but prefers riding in a bus (yeah, I don’t buy it either) and Anu is a model who suffers a wardrobe malfunction on the ramp, yet at best is annoyed with all the media coverage (ain’t buying that either).
The rest of the cast comprises of characters that, despite their whacky descriptions, are quite boring. Anupam Kher plays Mr. Marlo, Anu’s delusional father who believes his pet pug is in fact his mother. This was perhaps judged as unexciting so to add spunk, a bunch of little people suffering from progeria (the disease seen in Paa) were thrown in to dance around Kher with much glee. The most lovable character Sakru, Sid’s pet pug, is the center of a terrible climax comprising tens of dogs mating at a doggie wedding. No, I’m not making this up.
I enjoyed Chunky Pandey’s brief appearance as the Baba 3G who manages to stand on one leg while lying face down (the photo of the feat is hilarious) but screen presence and good comic timing cannot compensate for dialogues comprised of insipid cell phone jokes.
Tusshar and Riteish work well together and are likable, but sadly are not given well-written scenes to make them shine. Tusshar seems to know this and compensates by saying dialogues a little louder, and making his expressions much more exaggerated—a strategy that fails him. Riteish plays his role at the same pitch he does in most of the films he stars in and has a good sense of timing, but he’s memorable only if his dialogues are (think Masti and Bluffmaster).
Both Neha Sharma and Sarah Jane Dias look great on the big screen with Neha bringing in a dash of cute and fresh, and Sarah Jane adding saucy and sultry to the mix. Both do the best they can in half-baked roles, but Dias shows some promise than Sharma with her confidence and spontaneity.
The three songs in the film, which come out of nowhere and highlight poor editing choices, are nothing more than cues for bathroom breaks. ‘Dil Garden Garden Ho Gaya’ manages to get stuck in your head even though you wish it wouldn’t. ‘Shirt Da Button’ has a promising melody but the uninspiring lyrics ruin any chance of magic. ‘UP Bihar Lootne’ is a reboot of the famous ‘item song’ from Shool and it’s safe to say the original is far superior.
I was looking forward to very naughty, creative dialogues written to catch me off-guard, but was often met with gags suitable for children. Take, for example, Sid claiming a Mrs. Godrej must be cool because she makes fridges, and Adi making a celebratory toast with a piece of toast.
The makers of this film set out to push boundaries to the max, but instead torture most every scene with back-to-back puns, incredibly cheesy jokes and long beats that milk every moment for what its got. When a film has to work this hard to make the audience laugh, it comes across as desperate and lacking. It only works if it’s effortless and if anything, this movie made me miss the Govinda-David Dhawan comedies that made the most crass of jokes charming!
All the double entendres and puns in the world are of no good if they aren’t cleverly strung together. In the hopes of creating a super spicy dish, the makers add so much poor quality chili and pepper that the customer ends up with a concoction that’s inedible, unsatisfying and ultimately, not worth purchasing.
Dear NRI readers why not connect with us on the following social media platforms.