In the opening scenes of Miss
Lovely a man in an 80’s Ramsay-esque movie wanders around a dark haunted
house with a candle, and is suddenly grabbed by a saree clad nubile female ghost. Later, we’re
plunged into a film set where a heaving, semi naked woman is attacked by an
overtly masculine monster, and the director who is off camera pinches the
woman’s thighs to make her scream. This scene is projected on the screen of a
seedy theatre where a pervy old man sits and smiles lasciviously as the woman suggestively
moans when the monster assaults her. Director Ashim Ahluwalia beautifully
demonstrates how enormous an impact horror filmmakers like the Ramsays, Harinam
Singh, Gyanendra Chowdhary and their ilk had on India’s B-movie industry and
the psyche of desi film buffs.
Some will appreciate Miss
Lovely for its experimental arthouse style. Others will hate the film and
call it a slow, story-less and pointless exercise in indulgence. But those like
me and most desi D-grade horror fans will be fascinated to see (and hear) how 80’s
low budget Hindi horror movies were made and delve into the unglamorous world
of their production. What you’ll probably not expect is Miss Lovely being
a moody rumination on loneliness, alienation, and desperation. It’s not the
kind of film you’d watch every week but it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by
its audacity.
The film follows a typical lower
middle class bloke Sonu Duggal (Nawaz) who arrives in Bombay and finds some
footing when his B-grade filmmaker brother Vicky (Anil George) offers him work in
his cinema. A young and innocent girl named Pinky (Niharika Singh) shows up and
Sonu is so besotted with her that he lies to her about being a filmmaker with
the intention of turning her into a star. Things get ugly and Sonu gets
embroiled in the murky underbelly of the B-movie industry, cops, shady gangster
film producers and his desperate brother.
Theoretically this plot should
make me giddy with delight and transform the very face of ‘Bollywood’. But this
is a rare movie that is terrific yet simultaneously frustrating, because
director Ahluwalia just doesn’t expand his plot. The story only kicks in the
second half and just when it is about to mature into something truly great
Ahluwalia pulls the rug from under your feet and just ends the story, but
continues the film. What actually follows is an extremely long and indulgent existential
slog through the eyes of Sonu, with various intentionally languid still shots
of staircases, houses, foliage, telephones and buildings. The effect is so
jarring it feels like Ahluwalia is deliberately blocking a good story from
being told just for ‘film festival indulgence’. It’s maddening because there
was so much effort put in every other aspect of the film.
You can’t even credit the film to
be a character driven, rather than a plot driven piece. The screenplay reveals absolutely
nothing about Sonu’s life before his arrival in Bombay and doesn’t provide much
for him to do after the city clobbers him to near death. There is a brilliant
dramatic contortion towards the finale but by this point the fundamental problem
of the film not having a meaty story prevents it from elevating to the
masterpiece level that it could so easily have reached. It’s a sad but solid reminder
that without a good story no movie would become great, no matter how brilliantly
acted, directed and shot it is.
Despite its drawbacks, there’s
plenty of dark and wonderful stuff within Miss Lovely. The atmosphere in
the film is so intoxicating it will take your breath away. The moody lighting
and ambient sound design render a hypnotic feel to the film. The detailing is
ridiculously good – all of the stuff from 80’s is omnipresent - from the Weston
C90 cassettes to the Mirc television sets to the ancient projectors and reels
to the polka dot clothing to yellow colored Yezdis. There is even a shot of
Bombay traffic in the 80’s with all of the cars that were present in that era –
how Ahluwalia pulled that shot off is a mystery. Most importantly Ahluwalia doesn’t
make the sets too showy, thereby adding to the realism of the film’s timeline.
As a lifelong lover of horror and
B-cinema I found a ton of things to admire in Miss Lovely, like
Ahluwalia’s ability to create an oppressively dreadful yet hilarious setting. In
one of the film’s most memorable scenes a B-movie producer - a dwarf who sits
in a grungy office with walls covered in smutty photos - is approached by a wannabe
actress to star in an adult movie. She hands him her photographs and says ‘mai
sexy dance accha kar leti hu’ and starts gyrating, and the producer points
out to Sonu how busy he is.
The ‘filmmaking’ scenes, like the
African jungle dance one are amusing. The sets are filled with bizarre scummy
pulpy people you never expect to meet in your life. These are the rodents of the
film industry and Ahluwalia presents them to you with glee. Hilariously, the B-movies
being filmed in the film sometimes feel more real than the one we’re actually
watching.
The casting and performances are flawless.
Nawaz is yet again excellent – he switches from good natured and innocent to helpless,
desperate and violent without missing a beat. Whoever discovered Anil George
deserves a trophy because he’s a hell of a dramatic actor. Watch him in the
scenes where he verbally spars with Nawaz and you’ll know we have a Vijay Raaz-Deepak
Dobriyal competitor. Newcomer Niharika Singh is icily mysterious (not to
mention gorgeous). The junior artistes are all wonderful in their tiny roles.
Miss Lovely breaks a lot of ‘Bollywood rules’. You can bristle about its indulgencies but I'll still prefer a movie that fiddles with the rules over an easy commercial one. Especially if it has a climax that features blood and a Nazia Hassan song.
Miss Lovely breaks a lot of ‘Bollywood rules’. You can bristle about its indulgencies but I'll still prefer a movie that fiddles with the rules over an easy commercial one. Especially if it has a climax that features blood and a Nazia Hassan song.
(First published in Firstpost on Jan 16, 2014)
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