In a palatial mansion, well-fortified,
with guards and otherwise, there is a wall, unplastered, wall made of single
row of bricks, looking ugly and totally out of place, waiting to be razed down….like
it happens.
Inside the wall, the villain,
clad in a polo outfit, is vigorously trying to rape a woman….like it happens.
The woman is crying for help,
in the oversized mansion, secluded by the poor wall, and guarded by plenty of
goondas….like it happens.
Anger is simmering….like it
happens.
When it reaches to the
helping ears, it starts boiling. And the helping ears rush to help. A big
bang!!!! Like it happens.
And the ugly, out of place
bare bricks wall is suddenly down, receiving its freedom, away from this palace
that is phony for its standards, making its very existence in the frame a sham.
And, the helping ears are in,
with body, with soul, with emotion and with anger – all on simultaneous display.
(Specifics of characters are
interchangeable here with the sole distinction that the premises always remain
the same – they may be of any age – of any sex – of any social class – even of
any species.)
Soon we see the
protagonist(s) of the frame on rampage in the mansion, throwing goondas here and
there. The scene takes some time before collars of the villain is grabbed so
that the fighting spirit and skills can be shown in totally, with mandatory bulldozing
to overdose levels….like it happens.
Though the goons are still
trying to give him a fight, like they were trying from the very first moment, he
is outmatching them, making whirlwind rounds of the hall and in fact the
overall mansion premises, its rooms, even jumping up and running down stairs, with
impeccable somersault moves and acrobatic skills....like it happens.
As the good vs evil fight progresses,
more and more goondas are seen biting the dust. There reaches a point when the boiling
point of anger is right there with its intensity sending goondas packing,
broken and aching….like it happens.
And after an epic fight, the
frame cut to the next one where we see the main protagonist (of all) chasing
the rapist owner of the mansion. He is the saviour of the moment and soon he is
there, to melt the core.
Now desperate and running,
the rapist reaches to his gun somehow (or for that matter any other weapon as
per the script) somehow and is now taking aim.
There is pin drop silence in
the ambience….like it happens.
The watchers have left their munching-grazing
midway….like it happens.
But, but, while taking aim,
the daddy goonda had not seen the other protagonist who was just behind the
rapist, like even the viewers had not seen him in the frame for a long time. We
don’t see him charging but all of a sudden, the other protagonist comes between
the villain’s aim and the main protagonist, as the routine is, that the other
protagonist is sacrificed by the script.
The anger, the tension, now
starts spilling over….like it happens.
The main protagonist of all, the
saviour of filmmakers and viewers alike, is up on the habitual murders and
serial rapist now, ready to snatch the gun and take over the scene in finality.
And lo and behold! Flash and smash!
Like the situation has been
conceived, the gun is either snatched and thrown away by the saviour who then
shows his martial arts once again or the weapon’s is acted upon in such a way
that its aim does the course correction to find its ultimate target – the rapist
(or the villain).
Most of the times, the weapon
is retired so that viewers can see some ‘real action’, in flesh and blood, in a
syrupy cocktail of emotions. And the very next moment, the daddy goonda is in iron
grip of our hero. He punches him, kicks
him, tosses him up and away, he applies every trick of regulated and free style
fight. To the credit of the rapist goon, he is a sturdy fellow who can weather
the just excesses committed by the hero till it meets the appetite of viewers….like
it happens.
How the climax climaxes!
Bang again!
A glass wall here, a door
there, and furniture’s all around in the room get smashed down and we find the
daddy goonda on the floor. From that point, he paces out, saving his life from
the ongoing wrath of the saviour but fails miserably. He wishes to be a Jamaican
sprinter but the script curses him to be an Indian one….like it happens.
It’s the finality - the
finality that releases tension. And viewers are back to their normalized ways –
grazing, munching while watching the emotional reunion of the caller and the
called – the saviour and the saved.
It’s time for some garnishing,
some dessert, the cherry on the top of the cake!
Tears are in free flow mode.
Many of the viewers in the theatre are clapping, sobbing, and some even crying.
The chatter, that had gone silent suddenly, is alive again. The job is well done.
Filmwallas have performed their duty. And viewers have paid it back by reacting
dutifully.
:) :) The Way It Is….The
Classic Indian Masala Cinema…. :) :)
©SantoshChaubey
