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Film: "Marigold"; Starring: Salman Khan, Ali Larter, Nandana
Sen; Directed by: Willard Caroll; Rating: ** Two things puzzled me
deeply at the end of this aesthetically-shot benign cross-cultural
romance between a B-grade Hollywood actress and a Bollywood
choreographer. Why does Salman insist on being called Prem or
Sameer in most of his films? A homage to his two filmmaker buddies
Sooraj Barjatya and Sanjay Bhansali?
And, did Gulshan Grover dub the one syllable ("Yes") that he
gets to utter? Playing the strong and silent haveli guard, a la
Bachchan in Vinod Chopra's "Eklavya", Grover scowls at everyone in
sight especially Salman romancing his American guest from across
the seas.
To begin with Marigold (Ali Larter) is un-bathed, misbehaved,
misinformed and Miss Incorrigible all the way. In her journey from
the US to India she lies to get a seat, talks loudly and rudely on
her phone after takeoff is announced, screams at the cabbie in
Mumbai and sneers at the kind helpful production controller
(Suchitra Pillai) who's given the thankless task of informing the
bratty B-grader from Hollywood that the film she came to shoot in
India has been shelved.
Then of course, Marigold misbehaves some more.
Soon we get to know why.
"I've never done a film which doesn't have a number in front of
the title. 'Basic Instinct 3', 'Fatal Attraction 4'... After
every film of mine my father leaves me a voice-mail message asking
how much lower I'll fall," she tells the calm, cool and
captivating choreographer.
Soon, they are serenading each other on the Goan beaches and then
in the stunning Rajasthani havelis where the narrative shifts in
the second-half.
The choreographer-meets-B-grader scenes have some charm in the
first half, thanks to Salman's innate charisma. For reasons best
know to him and his American director, his eyes are mostly wet in
the movie, making this a kind of 'moist-see' experience.
A dry spell begins in the Rajasthani splendour of the deserts where
Prem wants to marry Marigold but he's betrothed to a human
Christmas tree (played by an out-of-sorts Nandana Sen), who loves
the American guest Barry (Ian Bohen) who loved Marigold earlier.
Before the two pairs of moonstruck lovers find their right partners
the narrative hems and haws and hiccups to a point of no return.
Jeez, whoever said the path to love was easy!
It's strewn with thorns as Salman and his American co-star perform
some appallingly choreographed numbers (tuned with nonchalance by
Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy) before the wedding shehnai is heard loud and
clear.
At the end of it all, "Marigold" isn't such a bad film. It has
some sassy lines and an ultra-cool Salman who swings from
sweep-waltz to sleepwalk in the blink of a (moist) eye.
There're lots of digs at Bollywood (Vikas Bhalla plays a very bad
actor rather well) and Hollywood (the sequel mania which has
gripped our cinema has its origins in Bush-land).
But Marigold Lexton needn't fear another number added to her
repertoire.
No chance of "Marigold 2" at all.
By Subhash K. Jha
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