An Ode To Phuntsukh Wangdoo

"Give me some sunshine, 

give me some rain,

give me another chance,

(I) wanna grow up once again..."

A dejected final year student, Joy Lobo strums the melody on his guitar, minutes after having his invention-in-the-works, the camera-coptor trashed, alongside the dream of making his dad proud of 'the first engineer to come out of their village'. A couple of scenes later, the gizmo does fly, capturing the hostel life in myriad moods, courtesy the three protagonists of the film, culminating a song, which ends in the horror of them finding the inventor hanging from his room fan, captured on the telly connected to the gizmo flying up the hostel storeys. You know Joy's fait accompli even as the song begins, but the spectre of the suicide stays with you, in your shudder. The scene is simply one of the most memorable seen this year!

'Its not a suicide, its murder' says Rancho (Aamir Khan), and you agree. Its a telling aftermath of the rat race that our education system has become. That poignant fact kept in mind, the movie doesn't fall into a dreary treatise on the subject: it sings, dances, revels in toilet humour (sans the vulgarity), gives you lump in the throat several times over, travels far with incredulity & clichés, but never goes off-track with its core philosophy: proud to be an IDIOT (I Do It On (My) Terms)!

You're still wondering who the hell is Phuntsukh Wangdoo, if you haven't yet caught the movie. Go, figure, but when you do, you'll agree of it being the first time a Tibetan has been incorporated into a mainstream Indian film, and you feel that the actor who plays him, actually looks the part! 

Its when you rise up from your seat, as the end credit rolls, you thank actors like Aamir (and even Abhay Deol) for making you eagerly await their next piece of work. Each moment spent before it & during it is well worth & some more! From Ram Shankar Nikumbh, to Sanjay Singhania, to Ranchhoddas Shyamaldas Chanchad (yes, that's what the moniker Rancho expands to) in a space of three Christmases, Aamir makes every other actor of his generation look like wanna-bes. Its the characters you watch for those 3 odd hours (including a successful suspension of disbelief here on a 44 year old playing an under-grad) and not the actor behind them, very unlike some 'superstars' who play a variation of themselves in all that they do.

Of course, you do cringe occasionally at howlers like final year students staying in a 3-seater room, but then again, the movie still is decently researched. And yes, its not completely '5 Point Someone', but different, and jolly good fun! In fact, the difference makes the movie a fresh experience, unread of, in the book which inspired it.

The music of the film appeared bland in comparison to some of Aamir's earlier ones before entering the theatre, but at least a couple of songs grow on you, and stay with you, most likely to be 'Sunshine' and 'Behti Hawa Sa'. Even the talismanic 'Aal Iz Well' turns out a bright spot in the scheme of things. Songs weave themselves into the narrative as fluidly as the roller-coaster of emotions written into the script, where you smile one second, go misty eyed the other.

And you also catch your guilt pangs of laughing at Raju's (Sherman Joshi) poor household, spinster sister, maudlin mother & a paralysed dad: where other movies make you go for the handkerchief, Raju Hirani & Abhijat Joshi's script makes you chuckle, yet not falling into a mock slapstick. And you wonder also at the comic Chatur Ramalingam (Omi), or Viru Sahasrabuddhe or Virus (Boman Irani) being worked out of typical bollywood definition of South Indians or professors, but you're ready to barter all that for a handful of good laughs these characters evoke.

The cinematography really should come in for some generous compliments for making the Shimla-Manali-Leh road look like American highways, as also capturing the beauty en-route dreamily. It has a convert in me, now wanting to master that route by bike sometime soon.

So, will the movie become a phenomenon? You bet, it will. It will sit pretty, in its own right, up there with the serious messages conveyed emphatically in RDB & TZP. Will I watch it again, paying 300 bucks? You bet again! In fact, quite feel like doing what Madhavan & Sherman do in a 'hats-off' scene for Aamir: pull down their pants, bow in salute, and say" Jahanpanaah, tussi great ho!"