Jannat

Director: Kunal Deshmukh

Emraan Hashmi’s patent look — bad boy stubble, floppy mop, and dark jackets — remains the same even as his films change. In Jannat too, these are happily to the fore as he forays from slummy Mumbai chawls to swish South African chalets, in search of love and money.

This being the IPL season, the timing of the release looks like a smart move on the part of the producers. But because this is a Mahesh-Mukesh Bhatt combine, you also know, pretty much, the entire score: a no-frills plot with two or three faintly sufi-type songs, a leading lady learning on the job, and a lip-suck moment.

Some startlingly squalid sequences give us glimpses into the ways of greedy players. Is this how matches are ‘fixed’? A particularly obnoxious character is neatly bracketed between two near-naked pole dancers, to leave the scriptwriter free to come up with sordid gags on fine legs, and deep gullies. And jobless cricketers who laugh, for a consideration, on ‘laughter challenge shows’, or hire their opinions on talk shows. (We all know who these are, of course) But the real shocker is this completely tasteless line, which Hashmi mouths with great relish : “cricketers aur prostitutes mein koi farak nahin, jawani khatam toh kahani khatam”. Is the Cricket board, and the players, listening?

‘Jannat’ has been engineered for the scruffy charms of its leading man, and the rows of youngsters on Friday’s first show didn’t seem to want more. Right in the beginning, Hashmi punches through the glass case of a jewellery store, because his lady love, whose long shiny locks make her look as if she’d be right at home in a shampoo advert, is gazing longingly at a diamond ring: in the next scene, he’s walking about without a scratch on that fist. That’s the kind of film this is.

shubhra.gupta@gmail.com