Jahaan Chaar Yaar, Review: 4 oppressed wives and 1 dead, naked, male stripper

Sometimes, you don’t realise you have made a fairly good beginning and deviate into unnecessary trappings. Sometimes you don’t realise that it ain’t broke, so don’t fix it. Sometimes you start tinkering with the engine, and don’t realise that the problem is that you have run out of petrol (read ‘ideas’). On the other hand, you might realise that you have run out of petrol and there is no gas station around (drought of ideas), so you think tinkering with the engine (read paddings, add-ons) might help. Or you try to fix it in other ways, ways that will only damage the vehicle and not take you farther. Jahaan Chaar Yaar is a classic case of the latter premise. They had a pretty good thing going, then they decided to shoot off at a tangent. In the process, they lost the way (read ‘plot’). They added ingredients where none were required, and, when they have consumed the dish, connoisseurs (audiences, critics) aren’t quite sure whether this was the main course or the dessert. That’s bad cooking.

Four girls, Shivangi, Mansi, Sakina (a Muslim name) and Neha, who go the same school in Uttar Pradesh (UP) and are classmates, are also best of friends. After school, they all get married. While three of them live in Uttar Pradesh, the fourth is in Mumbai. The three in UP, Shivangi, Mansi and Sakina, are facing issues of maltreatment, forced drudgery, discrimination and unfaithfulness, among others. Then comes the news that their fourth ‘member’, Neha, is seriously ill in Mumbai. The three decide to visit her in Mumbai, although they have never travelled alone to any place before. It takes some convincing, but the men and the elders in the family relent in the end. Soon, they pack their bags and books seats in the same compartment of a train bound for Mumbai.

Along the journey, a mysterious woman enters the compartment with her face covered and takes a seat right next to them. She reveals herself to be Neha. Moreover, she is hale and hearty, and not sick at all. Soon Neha tells them that this was a ruse to get them away from their families, and for all four of them to visit Goa, to let their hair down, for once. Mumbai was never on the agenda, and sure enough, the four land in Goa. They drink, enjoy waddling in the sea and have a ball. In Goa they meet a man, Ribhu, now married, who, as a schoolboy, had propositioned Shivangi, and even tried to force himself upon her, but he has confessed that incident to his wife, who is with him, and it is now a matter of the past. At the beach, they meet Peter Gomes, a drifter, who claims he is Australian and his girl-friend has broken-up with him. One thing leads to another, and soon enough, he is at their resort, atop a table, doing a striptease. Then there is a gunshot fired, and Peter falls down, dead as a Dodo.

It's like a case of split personality, with writer-director Kamal Pandey, who helmed at least two TV series in the last 11 years and wrote some half-a-dozen film stories, besides the odd ‘dialogue’ credit. That would make this film his debut outing. Or, he is inspired by two films, not one. I am unable to recall the films that might have triggered off this script, but I am sure there are at least two. One need only look as far as Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (2012), which was the story of three male pals who set off on a vacation to Spain, substituted by Goa here. Two had Hindu names while a third had a Muslim moniker. Rings a bell? In Spain, they were floored by a Senorita called Laila, here they are captivated by Senor Petrola, rather, Peter.

Actually, the inspiration begins with the title, borrowed from a super-hit song included in a super-hit Amitabh Bachchan film, released some 40 years ago. What he is offering under the title Jahaan Chaar Yaar (‘Where Four Pals’, literally) is two films for the price of one ticket, but neither is complete or satisfying. One cannot really complain about the title, because the story indeed revolves around four pals, albeit female, whereas the Bachchan song had his own gender in mind.

Quite often, it seems that the girls are having a really good time, but is the audience? After veering off the track, Pandey brings in the Goa Police, the enmity and rivalry between the Deputy Commissioner of Police (DCP) there, Hudda, and Inspector Madhukar Rane, and the search for Peter’s killer. This begins on an absolutely tasteless note and peters (pun intended) down to Shivangi addressing the Inspector as “Bhaiyya”, every-time she talks to him, and his taking umbrage at being so addressed. Also, the women always refuse to do whatever he tells/orders them to, but when told what he will do to force them to comply, they sheepishly get into compliance mode, post haste. These lines would have passed muster, had they not been repeated ad nauseam, till they do not remain funny, but, in fact, turn irritating.

Problem is, even if the confused and messy second half is sawed off from the film, there is nothing to really hold your interest. Wives forced into drudgery and unfaithful husbands, which premises constitute the first half, have been the staple of films in the 40s through 80s, and of television serials since the 1990s. There is no novelty, not even an attempt at innovation, when presenting such a beaten track.

Swara Bhaskar is Shivangi, and the film opens with a shot of her washing a pile of clothes. Known for doing roles that are associated with bravado, she makes an effort to fit into this contrasting character. Her voice and the stiff upper lip don’t help, but she succeeds at least partially. The other three, Pooja Chopra (Sakina), Shikha Talsania (Neha) and Meher Vij (Mansi), underplay, as their roles demand, in the first half. Pooja, though, shrieks a bit too much and her dialogue is not clear in a couple of places, making me lose the storyline for a few seconds. Come the second half, they all either go over the top or appear to put on pretentious expressions. As Inspector Madhukar Rane, Girish Kulkarni is slick and suave, with the occasional dash of humour, but it is a poorly conceived role. DCP Hudda, played by Manish Chaudhari, though physically in character, is a caricature. As Tanya, Simran Gupta shows no promise.

Vibha Chhibber needs no effort to portray the torturing mother-in-law. As Ribhu (a rare name, if there was one), Palash Prajapati (I am assuming this is the adult Ribhu) is there only to facilitate a flashback and a recreation of the scene, when, as a teenager, he had tried to ask Shivangi for sex on the school campus, of course, at a lonely spot. Cast as Neha’s husband Ashish is Ali Quli Mirza, and since his character is behind the scenes most of the time, nothing further shall be said about him. Also in the cast are Niharika Chouksey, Akash Dhar, Mitansh Mehra, Suraj Singh Sinsinwar, Garima Agarwal, Sakshi Mhadolkar and Neeraj Singh Rajput.

One of the producers of the film, chart-busting singer Mika Singh appears on screen and sings two songs well, ‘What the luck’ and ‘Aesee kee taesee’. The girls join him in one of these, and shake their legs and more. No record could be found of the actor playing Peter Gomes (I have yet to hear of an Australian with the surname ‘Gomes’; on the other hand, there are at least a thousand, or several thousand, Gomes in Goa itself, and in Mangalore). Ballu Saluja is the editor, but there is no point in blaming him for all the wrongdoings, even keeping the length to an ennui-generating 126 minutes, whereas 96 would suffice.

When you are setting off on such a beaten track, with four oppressed married women as your protagonists, you better make sure the journey is entertaining, and having a stripper do the full Monty (I am certain the censors have ‘cut’ all the revealing parts) is not an ‘entertaining’ choice to engage with the audience.           

Rating: * ½

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-oYd3PJJN-4