You are truly gobsmacked
after watching Marigold. What, oh what
were it makers thinking? How could no one see
what a disastrous film this would be at the screenplay
stage itself? Nothing, absolutely nothing works
in the film, a film that makes you squirm with
embarrassment. That this travesty is directed
by Hollywood Director Willard Carroll, who among
other films has directed Playing by Heart
(1998) with an ensemble star cast of Sean
Connery, Gena Rowlands, Ellen Burstyn, Madeleine
Stowe, Angelina Jolie and Dennis Quaid, is all
the more shocking.
The film is a supposed musical comedy about a
young American sleazy actress Marigold Lexton
(Ali Larter) who arrives in India with her luggage
left behind and an extremely bad attitude. And
of course in 'mystical and magical' India, her
life is transformed as she becomes a changed person
and finds true love with a prince (Salman Khan),
working as a choreographer in Bollywood!
 The
problem with this East-meets-West type of films
is the perception the Western eye has of 'Bollywood'.
We have to realize that our films are just fascinating
to them as 'those Indian musicals' and nothing
more. It is looked upon as exotic kitsch or as
silly froth by kinder souls but nothing more.
That seems to be the big problem here too. With
the way the Hindi film industry works, you are
always walking a very thin line between looking
at it seriously or falling into the trap of making
it appear to be a total caricature. Marigold
falls totally into the latter category lock, stock
and barrel lacking any insight whatsover. In fact,
even a filmmaker like Gurinder Chadha, in spite
of her Indian roots and upbringing on Hindi Cinema,
got it totally wrong with Bride
and Prejudice (2004). And, lets be fair -
'Bollywood' takes itself very seriously and we
do our kind of films far, far better. In fact
our scripts and technical inputs are far superior
to this 'Hollywood Production' that fails to get
anything out of one of our biggest stars and some
of our best technicians.
Everything is wrong with the hackneyed, done-to-death
script filled with as many clichés that
could possibly fit in. The film mixes everything
a foreigner feels that India represents - so we
have badly done Bollywood, an exotica of Rajashtan
royalty, a climax straight out of 1960s and 70s
Indian Cinema. Not a single moment stands out
anywhere, not one. The English Dialogue is corny,
stagey, tacky and yes, totally cringeworthy. A
word here about English spoken in our films. One
is walking along a mighty thin line here as Indian
English sounds highly unnatural and stitled on
screen if not controlled properly. Let's just
say here it is not controlled at all.
The film flow, flat and boring with no ups and
downs, has no consistent style whatsover, with
bizzare transitions like the red curtain or wine
glasses used between scenes cropping up in a rush
in the second half, looking more like a desperate
attempt to bring some life to the film, which
by then has gone beyond redemption in any case.
Incidentally what was that scene between Nandana
Sen and Ian Cohen? Did they know each other from
America or did they not? If not, their getting
together is all the more unbelievable. And what
was that awful, awful song when Marigold and Barry
leave for the airport?
The acting too is by and large woeful. Ali Larter
comes across as a B actress and nothing more.
Salman Khan looks like he hopes the ground would
open up and swallow him up to end his misery.
Salman works best when he is being Salman. Here
we see an extremely awkward and uneasy performance.
Of course, the weird English accent and mumbly
dialogue only makes things worse. Ian Bohen is
flat and Nandana Sen, Vijendra Ghatge, Vikas Bhalla,
Simone Singh are all truly awful. Only Suchitra
Pillai and to an extent, Rakesh Bedi, at least
seem to be enjoying themselves. What's their secret?!
Technically, there is nothing home to write about.
Considering the immense talent involved in all
departments, suffiicient to say not one person
delivers, rather than belch about it individually.
This film would be a nadir in quite a few otherwise
impressive resumes.
All in all, as avoidable as the plague.
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