अन्दाज़ अपना अपना
Dir. Rajkumar Santoshi
Comedy, I think, is the genre of Hindi film that is most inaccessible to westerners - even more than melodrama. It is difficult to translate humor across languages and cultures under the best of circumstances, and when Hindi comedies veer toward broad farce, slapstick, and lots and lots of yelling - well, if you didn't grow up with it, it can be an acquired taste. Andaz apna apna ("to each his own style") is exemplary of these qualities. Yet thanks to some unique aspects, it stands out - to some viewers, at least - as one of the funniest Hindi comedies ever.
Amar (Aamir Khan) is a schemer and a dreamer. After his get-rich-quick plans fail; he encounters what appears to be the opportunity of a lifetime: Raveena (Raveena Tandon), the daughter of a tycoon living abroad, is back in India looking for a husband. Determined to make himself the lucky guy, he sets off to meet her. On the way he meets Prem (Salman Khan), and the two quickly fall into a fierce rivalry to win the heiress's heart. Prem is distracted by the attentions of Raveena's friend Karisma (Karisma Kapoor), who takes quite a liking to him. In the meantime, Raveena's father's estranged twin brother hatches a scheme to co-opt the family riches, and sets his inept henchmen to kidnap Raveena. All kinds of silly fun ensues, as the boys carry on their escalating games of one-upmanship while thwarting the bad guys, and - against their better judgment - falling in love, Aamir with Raveena and Prem with Karisma. The result is a movie that is cute and fun, with a manic tone and a generous helping over-the-top silliness.
Part of what sets Andaz apna apna apart is its keen sense of self-awareness. The film is loaded with inside jokes and self-referential humor. Scenes poke fun at Bollywood cliches, at classic films, and at aspects of the stars' real lives. The first time I watched this film, fairly early on in my exploration of Hindi cinema, I did not have enough of a store of Bollywood history to draw on. I caught some of the numerous Sholay references, the hilarious fantasy sequences with Juhi Chawla, the silly dishoom dishoom of the fight scenes - and they were very funny. The second time I watched it, some 200 Hindi films later, it made a lot more sense. I had absorbed from the zeitgeist some of its famous catchphrases and many more of the insider references. I knew how cherished it is by my Indian friends who fell in love with it as kids. And, with more inculcation into its aesthetic, I was better prepared for its unique andaz.
So, Andaz apna apna might be baffling to newcomers to Hindi films, but even folks in that category can appreciate its adorable stars. Both Aamir Khan and Salman Khan were young, fresh-faced, and very cute. (Even staunch haters of either actor make an exception for this film.) In Andaz apna apna they both bring exuberant silliness, terrific physical comedy skills, and great timing to the table. Both their characters are dumb goofballs who think they are clever, and both step into those personae with a delightfully earnest innocence. Their hilarious buddy chemistry and cuteness more than compensates up for a host of somewhat more irritating supporting characters running around the film.
Finally, Andaz apna apna features a bunch of really fun songs that share the film's manic, over-the-top sensibility. My favorite is "Yeh raat aur yeh doori," but the others are lots of fun too. And even though I don't love this film with quite the same warmth as my Indian counterparts, there is still a certain actress whom I cannot see, ever, in any context, without exclaiming "Haila! Juhi Chawla!"