The process is almost comical (if it weren’t majorly serious). You settle in with a blankie and a tub of popcorn – you’re about to watch the two-hundred-and-fourteenth Star Gold/Set Max/Zee Cinema reprisal of your favourite 90s movie. There’s probably a healthy dose of Sunny Deol’s hand pump and a blinkier-than-usual Shah Rukh Khan thrown in for good measure, plus a bevy of dancers in the background wearing matching animal print tops that the zoo called for twice. At least that’s all you remember. And forgive.
And then, BAM! It hits you out of nowhere: Sexism! Racism! Homophobia! Got a few more 90s platitudes that you’ve now learnt are unacceptable? Sure! Throw those in too.
Because, beyond the sheen of Akshay Kumar’s pelvic thrusts (thanks to 21st parodyists, they may or may not become a seasonal thing) and Juhi’s floppy hair, are layers and layers of horrible stuff. Just horrible.
And if you’re a down-with-the-patriarchy, down-with-homophobia, down-with-imperialism (er, apologies, 15th August hangover there) kinda person – because how can you not be? – there’s much that’ll strike you, dear couch potato:
That Pesky Thing Called Gender Equality
Nope. Not bothered. Are you kidding? 90s Bollywood had SO much more to do (like having Sunny Deol single-handedly pull out deep well hand pumps, in cheerful defiance of gravity).
What You Saw Then: OMG. Raj loves Simran. OMG. Raj wants to take Simran away, but (OMG) only post-meltdown and heart-softening of strict NRI papa.
What You See Now: OMG. Raj is a type A stalker who hounds Simran by dangling bras in her face and putting fake lipstick stains on his chest. OMG. Raj wants to make Simran wait for her patriarchal father to ‘give her away’ to him, irrespective of her much better ideas (or a very wise Farida Jalal’s, for that matter). OMG. Patriarchal papa eventually does, sealing the much-loved transaction of handing over daughter from man to man.
All Hail the Anti-Gay Jokes
This was said to an effeminate man in a movie that won Fardeen Khan best debutant male award: “Tumhara naam ‘Jay Mehra nahi, Gay Mehra hona chahiye.”
*Slow Clap*
What You Saw Then: Strangely mean men and women rattling the cages of perfectly nice men and women for wearing pink/twirling hands/not-playing/playing a sport.
What You See Now: Why are heterosexual men running around scared of homosexual men, like they’re going to thump them on the head with a stick? Why are straight men dressing up like awful caricatures of what they think constitutes someone from the LGBTQIA community? Did people laugh back then? Is this why aliens won’t talk to us?
Who’s ‘Rich’? Who’s ‘Poor’?
Business tycoons and industrialist mummy-papas in pince-nez glasses are saying things like “bade ghar ki ladkiya/chhote sheher ke log”. Sadly, that one’s still familiar…
What You Saw Then: Rich people lived in big-big houses and poor people lived in chawls. (Why is there never a middle class?) Rich dads asked potential sons-in-law to stack up obscene amounts of money within the hour to prove future financial worth. Also? Mighty easy to squeeze in ‘shaadi ke kagaz’ within other important-looking squiggles and get marriages done. Made it easy to scream “Ha! Tumhari shaadi ho chuki hai! That time you thought you were signing on your CCD bill… Well…”
What You See Now: Let’s pause for a moment at the part where potential son-in-law “must stack up obscene amounts of money to prove future financial worth”. Is this secret training to become a potential bank robber, because WHO stacks up that much money, that fast? Here’s a more potent question: why didn’t rich people wear better clothes? Didn’t they have all that money to shop at H&M instead of Janpath?
But the real question, we suppose, is this: can your overgrown, ‘liberally educated’ 2016 mind still handle 90s Bollywood with ease?
Let us know while we cringe-watch another film.
(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)