Rajkumar Santoshi did a terrible thing in the 1990s – he directed a much beloved movie called Andaz Apna Apna. Unlike his other great successes (primarily the two Sunny Deol-vehicles Ghayal and Damini), AAA was a madcap comedy starring two Khanicons in their youth that managed to attain cult status, with audiences paying it the ultimate compliment by turning its dialogues into oft-quoted bits of Bollywood hilarity.

Possibly Santoshi knew what he’d done because he wisely eschewed the genre altogether for the next fifteen years and saved himself the aggravation of endless comparisons. Until now.

Ajab Prem ki Ghazab Kahani is the story of an odd duck called Prem (Ranbir Kapoor) with an affinity for trouble who falls for a girl named Jenny (Katrina Kaif) who is nothing but trouble.

The movie gets off to a flying start (literally) as Prem foils the nefarious plans of an evildoer who is only missing the black-and-white striped uniform and diamond-shaped half mask of the true cartoon villain. In a matter of minutes we learn that Prem isn’t given to vainglory, isn’t the sharpest tool in the box, is well known in the community and is the President of The Happy Club – a sort of bolthole-cum-revenue generator for him and his do-nothing friends that occasionally supplies them with, er, opportunities for social work shall we say? Like when they help out a fellow member by kidnapping his married girlfriend for him.

And so they bump into the beauteous Jenny, who is everything that Prem is not. She’s from a different religion, she is educated, she is “class” as his friends put it, while poor ol’ Prem is an amiable dimwit who spends all his time figuring out ways to get out of work. The only thing they have in common, really, is their shared habit of stammering when upset. Of course he falls for her like a ton of bricks.

The result is predictable and about as exciting as watching a toddler add up single digits. A whole bunch of things keep happening that make you think – uh, so? And unfortunately for everybody concerned, the romance between Jenny and Prem is one of them. However, there are a couple of rays of sunshine:

Santoshi chooses to set his characters in a hyperverse that allows them to act in ways that might remind the faithful of the over-the-top antics of the characters that populated AAA (and leave them longing for the grace that is missing from this movie) but he actually manages to put it to good use occasionally. When Prem, for example, prompted into getting a job for love of Jenny where all his father’s recriminations went in vain, struts about his new workplace, he converts into a superhero. A rather shabby superhero perhaps but it’s a lovely little scene expressing the idea that love can move mountains – or put a kaamchor to work, which might be the more difficult task. And really, holding down a steady job that you don’t much care for is a lot more difficult than bouncing bullets off your rock hard alien chest, don’t you think?

Ranbir Kapoor (making me more and more accustomed by the film to hearing Rishi Kapoor’s voice come out through Neetu Singh’s face)  and Katrina Kaif (still gorgeous) are the two other good decisions Santoshi made for his movie – as long as they’re not asked to act overtly romantic, the two of them are pitch perfect. There is a gentle ease between Prem and Jenny that keeps the movie from drowning in its pitiful pleas for your ha-has. The scene in which we find out Jenny stammers the same as Prem is especially nice, with Katrina even managing to mine a certain amount of vulnerability.

There are a couple of other scenes – like the one in which Prem thinks it necessary to talk English to Jesus when he ducks into church after disappointing his parents yet again – that succeed in giving you a glimpse of the movie this could have been but Ajab Prem’s Kahani never quite turns Ghazab for all the hot water he lands himself in.

For one thing it doesn’t seem able to make up its mind what it wants to do – is it strictly aiming for the gags or does it want to say something (“To thine own self be true”, etc?), that fatal flaw of the true blue Santoshi movie? Whatever the case may be, the end result is mostly forgettable and a lot less fun than it hopes to be.

Tyra Banks and the woman with two vaginas:

Lauren Williams: “I’ve got two uteruses. Just one to each (fallopian tube), then they go down to two cervixes, and then it did go down to the two vaginas.” Williams, who was diagnosed with two vaginas when she was 25-years-old, also believes she has 2 periods.

Amrita Rajan: I’ve got one reaction. Just one sinking feeling, then it goes down to the pit of my one stomach, and then it comes back up to the back of my one throat and blows my one brain.

Some of it sounds distinctly Onion-esque but the thing that I really can’t get over though? She basically spends all her time menstruating.

So… Rahul Mahajan’s playing Rakhi Sawant in a turban. If he has the moobs for it, he’s thankfully keeping it to himself.

Some people would call his a remarkable life. I would term it unfortunate. In the span of 33 years, the man has lived through his father’s shocking murder at the hands of his uncle along with its nasty consequences, an OD-related drug bust and the death of his father’s assistant who was partying with him at the time, a hurried marriage that ended in rumors of spousal abuse, a seedy reality show, and the kind of celebrity that makes you wonder what the world is coming to.

And now comes Rahul Dulhaniya Le Jayega, a show that seeks to combine several elements of the kind of shenanigans that made him famous. Bet he didn’t know that one of them would be women inmates from Bhopal’s Central Jail.

Apparently heartened by his attraction to former gangster’s moll Monica Bedi, nine ladies from the Central Jail would like Rahul to live up his wild side and give l’amour a try inmate style:

“These nine prisoners, including convicts and undertrials, have moved applications, seeking permission to participate in the TV ”Swayamvar” of Rahul, son of BJP leader Pramod Mahajan,” Bhopal Central Jail Superintendent P D Somkunwar told PTI today. [...] “These women are very much interested to take part in the TV show and after moving applications they have started wearing lipsticks and dressing up, much to the surprise of other inmates,” Somkunwar said.

Sing it sister! It’s Bandini for the new millenium!

A tangential discussion on Memsaab’s Achhut Kanya post makes me imagine the wonders that could be achieved if all foreign visitors to India arrived speaking just one language: filmi. The essentials alone would work wonders:

Obnoxious taxi-driver grabs tourist at the airport and shepherds to waiting car: “Best price, madam! Best price!”
Tourist: “Kutte! Kaminey! Chhod de mujhe!”

Grinning youth staring with wide eyes at all the PDA between foreign couple: “Are they going to kiss now?”
Tourist: “Bhagwan pe bharosa rakho, woh sabki sunta hai.”

Curious lady on train / bus / other public transport: “So who all do you have at home?”
Tourist: “Ek andhi maa aur langdi behen hai. “

Sleazy bellboy: “You are funning? Hot Indian ladies!”
Tourist: “Ruk jao! Kanoon ko apne haath mein mat lo!”

Waiter arrives with room service one hour after the order was placed.
Tourist: “Tum? Yahan? Is waqt?“

Standing in line at Delhi airport, waiting for the line to move. Making it all the way up to security clearance before being pulled out of line by the lout standing guard so passengers on the flight that leaves after your plane can go ahead for unknown reasons.
Tourist: “Dusht! Rakshas! Paapi! Ek-ek ko chun-chun ke maroonga!”

And, of course, all members of The International Territory of Shashi Pradesh upon bumping into their crush at Mumbai airport: “Main tumhare bachche ki maa banne waali hoon!“

When I was 15, I was suffering through lessons in trigonometry and knitting scarfs that I wouldn’t have draped on a dog. Nilo Recalde is making videos like these.

Beats watching London Dreams.