चोरी चोरी
Dir. Milan Luthria
Like another Ajay Devgan vehicle, Pyar to hona hi tha, Chori chori ("stealthily, secretly") serves up a pretend romance that blossoms into a real one. Also like Pyar to honi hi tha, Chori chori is based upon a mid-rate Hollywood rom-com that I never saw (in this case, Housesitter). For me, though, Chori chori is a sllightly better and more memorable movie, thanks to the wonderful Rani Mukherjee's portrayal of a surprisingly interesting character.
Khushi (Rani Mukherjee) lives on her own in Delhi. She nominally works in a hotel kitchen, but finds excuses to skip work more often than she shows up. Meanwhile Ranbir (Ajay Devgan) dreams of building a sprawling mountain home in Shimla for his childhood love Pooja (Sonali Bendre), but Pooja rejects him. Khushi meets a brooding, depressed Ranbir when he attends a party at her hotel, and she learns of his planned and half-built dream-house. When her boss finally tires of her indolence and she loses her Delhi apartment, Khushi heads to Shimla and cons her way into everything from food to furniture by pretending to be Ranbir's betrothed, charming his family. Ranbir discovers the deception and is enraged at first - but Khushi convinces him that playing up the charade will win him Pooja for good. So, they carry on, arranging opportunities to make Pooja jealous. But it isn't long before the pretense turns to real romance.
One unusual aspect of Chori chori is that its heroine Khushi lives alone in a big city. (Almost needless to say, just like the orphan NRI heroine of Pyar to hona hi tha, Khushi owes her independence to the Hollywood origin of the storyline.) Unfettered by a large, protective family the way most Hindi film heroines are, Khushi has the freedom to take off for Shimla when the mood strikes her. But it also frees her to fabricate stories about her past and her situation with a fluidity that is oddly touching; she's very effective at conning people because there are few bothersome truths to interfere with the smoothly flowing lies.
The result is a poignancy to Khushi's character - and Rani Mukherjee's performance - that is what ultimately makes Chori chori a better movie than Pyar to hona hi tha. She is adorably charming - and downright funny - as she talks her way into and out of trouble, as in a standout scene where she unknowingly introduces herself as Mrs. Ranbir Malhotra to Ranbir's father (Kulbushan Kharbanda). Yet there is a longing wistfulness in her tale-spinning, as if she believes the charade is as close as she can get to real happiness. This yearning often rises to the surface when she is alone, confiding to her stuffed toy monkey. Khushi's preternatural perkiness is tempered by these moments of melancholy.
Compared to Khushi's unexpected depth, Ajay Devgan is serviceable, but flat - Ranbir's arc isn't very interesting, and he mostly broods his way through the film. This is not really a complaint, though, as his blandness provides a suitable canvas for Rani's show. Sonali Bendre is equally bland as the third vertex of the love triangle, but she is little more than a plot device that motivates the Khushi and Ranbir's romantic charade. There are some nice songs, notably "Mehndi na mujhko lagake," and "Tu mere samne" - at the end of the latter, Khushi keeps dancing with abandon for a few moments after the song ends, which is both an adorable bit of comedy, and a hinting at the bleed between make-believe and reality that is beginning the in relationship between Khushi and Ranbir.