Cinema enthusiast, Faiz Khan reviews Bollywood's latest release Housefull 3
Farce is not a genre that I profess to enjoy much, unless itâ€™s Peter Sellars in his Clousseau avatar, Joanna Lumley in Ab Fab or then John Cleese as Basil Fawlty.Â Â Time takes me back toÂ â€Itâ€™s a mad mad mad mad worldâ€, Woody Allenâ€™s â€œSleeperâ€ as well as â€œThose magnificent men in their flying machinesâ€ which carried off the ridiculous with hilarity and aplomb.Â Farce is best described as a play or film where its characters are embroiled in improbable, exaggerated and ridiculous situations, using slapstick and utter buffoonery to enhance its comedic effect, Houseful 3 clearly fits the bill and hits the deck running with its opening sequence, a heist in London carried out by three â€œDeadpoolâ€ clones who give Her Majestyâ€™s Bobbies, a run for their money with their flying punches, swirling kicks and back flips!
Moving into the present, we meet our main characters, a schizophrenic footballer (Akshay Kumar), a failed racing car driver (Riteish Deshmukh) and a rapper who cannot rap (Abhishek Bachchan), a ludicrous trio of buffoons all in pursuit of Moolah.Â As fate would have it, each has a rich girlfriend, the obedient daughters of a business tycoon Batuklal (Boman Irani) who refuses to allow his â€œconservativeâ€ daughters to marry.Â If the men were not awful enough, their girlfriends, Ganga (Jacqueline Fernandez) Jamuna (Lisa Haydon) and Saraswati (Nargis Fakhri) Gyrating to â€œgirls just wanna have funâ€, the salacious sisters plot to introduce their boyfriends to their father and into their home, the boys salivating, if not at the scent of the three nymphets than the colour of money.Â In order to do this, the schizophrenic footballer pretends to be a â€œcrippleâ€, the rally driver â€œblindâ€ and wonder of wonders, the Rapper becomes mute (if only).Â Matters take a turn when we discover that the three nymphets are not in fact the daughters of the Batuklal but of a dreaded mobster and Batuklal wants to wed the three nymphets to his sons, the â€œDeadpool clonesâ€ who until now had been enjoying guest status in one of Her Majestyâ€™s prisons.
There are no two views on this. Houseful is utter hogwash and plain boring, neither funny nor engaging, and yet not awful enough to be enjoyed for its mediocrity. Written by imbeciles only for their ilk, the film takes pride in its offensive path, parodying the disabled, and eliciting its humour from dire sexist and racist jokes.
The directors have no role to play, merely letting the inanities unfurl one after the other and none of the performances rise beyond the ridiculous. The fact that each of the three heroes have proved their credentials in comedy before but fail spectacularly to raise a titter, let alone meet the Kermode & Mayo 6 laugh test, shows the complete misfire that Houseful 3 really is. Notable however are the three leading ladies, each a mannequin, reduced to spouting translations of the English language such as â€œthandi waali dawa kha loâ€ for â€œtake a chill pillâ€ and â€œbahar latakte hainâ€ for â€œletâ€™s hang outâ€, taking the cringe factor to unparalleled heights.Â Â Seriously? If cinema is synonymous with the term â€œthatâ€™s entertainmentâ€, then this puerile piece of junk has just debunked that claim. Absolute garbage.