Fenil and Bollywood

Suno na.. ek nanhi aawaz

The film revolves around an unwed mother, who wishes to end her life, till a little voice inside her (yes, the foetus’s) stops her from taking the drastic step.

Take a deep breath and hold it in for two hours. Suno na.. will knock you dead anyway. It’s one of the worst films you can be subjected to, and chances are if you inhale/exhale like the numerous pregnant women who keep popping up on the screen, you’ll only end up screaming for help. Hence that piece of advice – take a deep breath… and hold on. That way if you slip into coma, at least you’ll do it out of choice.

Director Amy Thanawala, assistant to Sanjay Leela Bhansali on Khamoshi and John Mathew Mathan on Sarfarosh, has her heart in the right place. She says she chose the subject of an unwed mother, who chooses to live life on her terms because it conveys progressive thinking. Fair enough.

But there it ends. The entire treatment of the film is regressive.

Anu (Tara Sharma – the most lifeless actress ever) is a small-town girl who gets pregnant before marriage. Her parents spurn her; ditto for the cad who gets her pregnant. Like in countless Hindi movies, just when Anu contemplates jumping off the cliff, her unborn child starts a dialogue with her and makes her see sense.

She packs her bags and moves to Mumbai where she is welcomed by a friend, Raina (Rinku Patel – an over-the-top performer). To add to the viewers’ woes, Raina and Anu strike up dialogue with the unborn child, nicknamed Sammy, who asks the most irritating questions. When your patience wears thin, you almost wish Anu had jumped off that cliff. The dialogue is plebeian with characters saying, “Main fresh hoke aati hoon” or “No big deal”. It even gets crass with Raina telling Anu, “Please ask Sammy (the unborn!) whether he has a penis. And if that isn’t enough, there is a Hindi translation of the same, “Usko pooch usko nunni (penis) hai kya?” Even if you go with the argument that these are commonly spoken lines, the director could have spared the viewers; especially since they neither evoke laughter nor brings joy.

The rest of the cast comprises absolute amateurs. Dharmendra Gohil (Dhruv), a professor who serenades the unwed mother; Avinash Tiwary (HMV – a helpful neighbour who confesses he is gay); Makrand Shukla (Deepak – an annoying Tamilian boss) are all caricatures who sleep walk through their parts – and who should neither be seen nor heard.

The two redeeming features (yes!) are Dhananjay Kulkarni’s camerawork, and Sanjoy Chowdhury’s music that requires a special mention for the classical number Ja bairi ja badra.

Now you may release your breath – the end credits have rolled.

P.S. Advice to the director – if you’re keen to dabble in the subject of premarital pregnancy, watch Hollywood film Juno (2007) or Kya Kehna (2000).