2.5 Stars (out of 4)
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I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure that pouring water on your head won’t prevent a brain hemorrhage. This suspect piece of medical advice is one of the sillier aspects of the very silly movie Rowdy Rathore.
Billed as Akshay Kumar’s return to the action genre, Rowdy Rathore is more of a “masala” movie that blends together various genres. The first hour is a goofy comedy that primarily follows Kumar’s antics as Shiva, a petty thief in Mumbai. Shiva’s wooing of beautiful country gal Paro (Sonakshi Sinha) is interrupted when he unwittingly kidnaps a little girl who believes that Shiva is her father.
The girl, Chinki, is the daughter of super-cop Vikram Rathore (also Kumar), who looks exactly like Shiva, only with curls at the end of his mustache. Rathore is presumed dead after a failed attempt to free the small town of Devgarh from the grip of a crime lord named Baapji (Nassar). Chinki takes one look at Shiva and assumes he’s Rathore. Baapji’s goons do the same.
Here’s the twist: Rathore’s not actually dead. Rathore survived being shot in the head, but Rathore’s fellow police officers and a few dozen villagers allowed Baapji to believe Rathore deceased, giving the super-cop time to recuperate and finish the job he set out to do. After all, Rathore’s catchphrase is, “I always do what I say.”
The dubious medical advice I mentioned in the opening paragraph comes in to play when Rathore experiences double vision while chasing some of Baapji’s henchmen. The symptoms go away after he dowses his head with cool water, an act that his doctor says saved his life. Had he not, the doctor explains, Rathore’s brain would’ve overheated and hemorrhaged.
Uh, Doc? I don’t think that’s how the brain works.
The symptoms return during a massive fight scene in which Shiva sees his doppelgänger for the first time. Rathore is stabbed in the abdomen and collapses. Just as he’s about to finished off, it begins to rain. The cooling raindrops rejuvenate Rathore — and heal his stab wound, apparently! — and he’s able to kill all of the bad guys.
All of this absurdity would be fine were it not immediately followed by a flashback to Rathore’s first attempt to clean up Devgarh. Baapji and his men are revealed as rapists, kidnappers, murderers, and extortionists. It’s grim stuff that’s followed by an attempt to conjure tears from the plight of poor Chinki, whose mother is dead and who believes the wrong man is her father.
Things lighten up again when Shiva pretends to be Rathore, adding a swagger to the hard-nosed cop’s bravura. He even adds a delightfully absurd line to Rathore’s catchphrase: “And I definitely do what I don’t say.”
This is the strongest and funniest part of the story, and I would’ve liked to have seen more of Shiva impersonating Rathore. Perhaps the story would’ve felt more balanced had the villagers also believed Rathore to be dead, only to have him return to them wackier than before. It could’ve been more along the lines of a Bollywood version of Zorro, The Gay Blade.
Beyond the manipulative plucking of heartstrings at Chinki’s expense, Rowdy Rathore ignores the serious questions the story raises. How does a stickler for law and order like Rathore feel about placing his daughter and his reputation in the hands of a thief? And does anyone plan to tell Chinki the truth?
But Rowdy Rathore is not a serious movie, which is okay. The martial-arts-heavy action scenes are entertaining, even if the stuntmen flop about as though they’re auditioning to be pro wrestlers. Paresh Ganatra is funny as Shiva’s much-abused sidekick, 2G.
The film’s strong point is its collection of musical numbers. Set to very catchy songs, the four dance numbers are the type of large-scale productions which seem increasingly rare on the big screen. They alone are almost worth the price of admission. Just be sure to take Rowdy Rathore‘s medical advice with a grain of salt.
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