Cast: Sunny Leone, Tusshar Kapoor, Vir Das, Shaad Randhava, Gizele Thakral
Director: Milap Zaveri
Adult, sex comedy can be great fun. But, to begin with, it needs two things: comedy and some sex, both of the adult variety. No one’s demanding real sex, of course, but at least some naughty innuendos and smart double entendres that are original and not just old non-veg jokes regurgitated.
And here’s a thought! Why not have a story? Ya, that thing with a plot, some characters and some point. Even if not of the Carry On calibre, but surely the great copycats of Bollywood can extract an idea or two from the films left by Dada Kondke.
Alas, Mastizaade has nothing. Its jokes are stale, it has no story, and for characters it has, well, gyrating tits and petulant d***s. It’s so bereft of ideas and humour that at one point an innocent donkey’s b***s are flicked and a horse is, well, molested.
The captain of Bollywood’s lecherous brigade, chief chichora Ritesh Deshmukh, arrives to begin the proceedings, leaving the film all too soon to the inept devices of Sunny Kele (Tusshar Kapoor) and Aditya Chothia (Vir Das).
The film’s premise is what most films starring Ritesh, Tusshar and often Aftab Shivdasani opposite imported women usually have. There are desperate men who are desperate for sex. Sometimes these men are married, and sometimes they are unmarried.
When they are married, they never have sex outside of the marriage. And if they are unmarried, they have lots of faltu sex with faltu women, till they come to the women they want to see not in negligent nighties but in bridal refinery. That’s when they don’t have sex till their suhag raat. This stupid, annoying, waste-of-our-time morality on which their sex games are concocted are painfully predictable.
Here the two men are unmarried and so in their free time they attend de-addiction classes — sex and alcohol — to find horny women.
These scenes are built around dialogue that use all those words that make 14-year-olds giggly — lele, dede, kele, gotis and more such...
The two cheapos flaunt their Chicks Ray — they can see through women’s outer garments — till they spot Laila and Lily Lele (Sunny Leone), two humshakal sisters. We meet Laila while she’s talking on Skype to her cat called Puski, and Lily while she is demonstrating how to clean balls — small golf balls and big balls that are used to smash nine pins.
This they do in their free time. Their real calling is running sex de-addiction classes where the two sisters go around placing coins on each crotch before conducting a striptease. The bearers of coins that spring up in the air fail. They do this as a sort of desh seva because their mother, a sex addict, gave them and their father a lot of grief.
After a few scenes that replay more stale jokes you’d have received on WhatsApp, all arrive in Pattaya for Lily’s wedding. Aditya has to ward off Lily’s groom in a wheelchair, Deshpremee Singh (Shaad Randhava), and Sunny has to deal with a sex ki bhookhi Laila who won’t say the three words he wants to hear but keeps climbing on him and demanding that he whisper “Laila mujhe dedo”.
This is the film’s one interesting and funny idea out of a total of two. It’s cutely, mildly subversive. The other is Das (Suresh Menon as the hyper gay brother of the two sisters) who develops feelings for Sunny. This bit is at times funny if for nothing else then his persistence.
In the opening credits Mastizaade announces that it doesn’t just have a media and catering partner, but also a pleasure partner. Sadly, there’s little pleasure in watching this film.
The film is politically incorrect. But that’s not its main crime. Its culpable offence is that it doesn’t give Sunny Leone much to do. Apart from the film’s opening scene, where she walks naked, crucial bits hidden, coquettish and titillating, in the rest of the film she is repeatedly stripping down to her panty and bra to gyrate every few minutes while foam, water, air and other things are thrown at her. In the film’s climax, Choo Ha Rat Glue is used to again strip her down to her undergarments.
Mostly Sunny Leone looks amused, slightly shocked even at the power she wields. Perhaps marvelling at how little she has to do and show to make and sell a film, at how infantile and idiotic India’s writers, directors, actors and audiences are.
Upparwala sent Bollywood an affirmative sign for sex comedy when he sent us Sunny Leone. Dudes, he signed on the gift card, half the job is done. Enjoy.
She’s so adorable looking, has the cutest, I’m-so-innocent accent, and the body of, well, an A-grade porn star. What’s the problem, then?
Well, Bollywood, can’t get past her past and her boobs. At all. Even for a second. They don’t see the potential this cutie pie sex kitten has. The only intelligent woman in Mumbai, Ekta Kapoor, did and used her very smartly in Ragini MMS 2. Even that weird, sulking film Jism 2 sort of got it in the beginning. But since then nothing that even scratches her potential.
Sunny Leone can really get us in the mood, if only they’d let her. I wish Bollywood would use her to do what our television aunty Bhupesh Chaubey recently said a CPI politician had accused her of — corrupting Indian minds and morality.
Arre bhai, here we are, with cinema tickets. Corrupt us, please. But for that Bollywood will have to man-up first and stop pretending we are a nation of gurgling morons who get off on montages of cleavage. Tusshar is 39, Ritesh 37 and Vir Das 36. Time to grow up, you think?
I don’t get the hate that’s often directed at Tusshar Kapoor. He’s so harmless. He hardly ever makes a difference to a scene, whether he’s in it or not. Vir Das, whose desperate attempts at playing an eligible bachelor and terrible stand-up comic routines make me want to curl up in a corner and die, may have finally found his calling. He is suitably lecherous and dumb to carry on in this manner.