Friends, wimminz, people of the world – I have seen a thing of great delight and now I bring you word. About five years too late but still. It is Sheesha, brimming with passion and insight; an artistic venture in which actors regularly stare over each other’s shoulders instead of looking at each other, their side profiles a searing indictment of the missed connections of modern life.
Okay, so no – it’s terrible. And not in a “Maybe the French will like it!” way. More of a “oooh, Amrita’s gonna laugh herself sick” kind of way. Greatness comes in many forms, after all. Sample its delights:
We R Family: Twinsies must rhyme! So meet Ria and Sia (Neha Dhupia), sisters who’re absolutely identical except for one thing – Ria is not only deaf but can’t speak either thanks to some mysterious fetal disorder that vanishes with some kind of magic Bollywood “operashun” once she finds some motivation to hear and speak. The motivation part comes from the ever sensitive hottie Raj (Sonu Sood) who thinks they’re both groovy and tells Ria he’d have totally fallen for her, if only her equally hot but communication-enabled sister wasn’t around. Hmmm. I wonder where this story goes.
Nymphomania: Wow, that was quick. Once Ria gets a burning eyeful of Raj and Sia’s adventurous wedding night, no doubt faightfully cribbed from some Cosmopolitan-inspired “Top Ten Things to Dislocate Your Back on Your Wedding Night in Foreplay Alone”, she knows how to play this game. All she needs is a bikini top and some liquid – any liquid – and she’s all set!
Nahiiiiiin: Now Sia didn’t marry Raj for his looks! She married him because she needed a manny for her poor sister while she was out making piles of money. Raj was all down with that coz Sia’s really hot but he didn’t know her sister was the devil incarnate! Not only did she sabotage their wedding night but she’s now molesting his car – and probably leaving giant boob-shaped wet spots on it! God, don’t you just hate when that happens? A man’s car is sacred!
Mistaken Identities: Once poor, dumb, horny Raj figures out that his evil sister-in-law wants to do all sorts of creepy sexy times with his hot bod, he tells her what’s what – he’ll never mistake her for Sia! He knows what Sia is like on the inside! Of course, by the time he tells her all this, he also pretty much knows what Ria is like on the inside. (Yes, I went there.) But hey! at least he knows the important stuff like the impossibility of Sia putting in a call for a helicopter to beat traffic.
Shrinkology: Did you know disabled people build up vast shores of mysterious energy within themselves? Unlike the exalted “normal” folk, their lifeforce is all blocked. Denied a timely release, when that stuff comes tumbling out, you want to watch out. Sometimes, it’s all love and happiness. Sometimes, though, all that blocked up energy is stone cold nuts. Guess which category Ria falls into? That’s right, she’s a disabled psychopath. Me? I think that particular movie shrink has been thinking hard (heh) about virginity and masturbation.
Logic: Or Why I Love Psychos
SIA – Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted Raj? I love you so much, I’d have given him to you if only you asked.
RIA – Fine, I’m asking now.
SIA – *blink* *blink* Um, really?
RIA – Bullshit walks, sis.
SIA – How dare you, you cheap ho? He’s my husband! I can’t hand him over like a ripe plum even though that’s exactly what I offered to do two seconds ago.
RIA – And this is why you must die, bitch!
And whack goes the cricket bat! Sigh. So great.
Ka Boom – Is it really a catfight if one woman has a habit of walking up to the other woman and slamming her repeatedly in the face until she passes out? Where is the hair-pulling, the mud-rolling, the screaming, the good stuff? FAIL. And then suddenly Raj remembers he’s an Bollywood hero and he hasn’t hit anybody yet. That purse snatcher he Jackie Chan-ed to impress Sia was hardly a proper villain and all his other superhero lifesaver moments basically involved rolling around on the ground with a cushy armful of Neha Dhupia. (Note: in case your brakes fail, please do not try to escape the fast-moving vehicle by jumping onto a busy highway and rolling under an 18-wheeler. Your mother – and the driver of the 18-wheeler – thanks you.) So he lets Ria have it to the face. Pow to the left, pow to the right. And then he and Sia bash her right off a helipad and cry about it.
The Sex: For a grand finale, Sheesha winds up with an item number. Why? Who knows! Because it’s just as good a way to end things as any? It begins explosively with a duck-billed platypus in a jumpsuit culled from Kalpana Iyer’s donations to the Salvation Army. Roofied out of its mind, it starts to bounce around with a lot of unhappy backup dancers, periodically stretching open its maw to emit godless yowls of mad desire for flesh, sweet flesh. On closer inspection, my eyes told me this was none other than the star of this wretched enterprise: Neha Dhupia. My brain refused to believe it because it’s seen Neha Dhupia and she’s very pretty. She doesn’t have a maw and isn’t as wide as she is tall. I don’t know what that creature was, but it needs to be slain before it starts impregnating the menfolk. Youtube agrees with me that this abomination did not exist, so I’m going to say this was some kind of cruel hallucination brought on by indigestion (damn you, cheese pakoras!).
Congratulations: To the cast and crew of Sheesha and us as a culture for getting past this watershed.
INDIEQUILL 