‘Teer se na talwar say, dekh magar pyaar say …’

Asad-ul-Haq’s much-touted, much-awaited Dekh Magar Pyaar Say is replete with one-liners that attempt to be quirky, a mélange of characters vying to be insouciantly humorous and gorgeous, breathtaking visuals. But all that glitters isn’t gold and DMPS, wrapped up in glittery, iridescent candy-foil, is highly unlikely to strike box office gold.

Dwellers of Lahore will certainly enjoy the movie for its sleek, slick cinematography, presenting a sumptuous visual transformation of their city. Music aficionados are bound to appreciate the soundtrack featuring Soch, Moroo and Talal Qureshi.

One appreciates the discerning eye for art direction and the apparent hard work poured into the project, but impeccable styling, flawless visuals and good-looking actors can’t save a movie lacking an engaging storyline

But that’s all there is to like in DMPS. For the movie is diligently shot, well-varnished visuals are crippled by a storyline that incoherently wavers here and there, often not making sense at all. Add in lackluster acting and numerous scenes where the sponsors blatantly feature like bona fide commercials and you feel utterly lost even before the movie is half-way through.

The plot revolves around Sikander ‘Sikki’ who came to Lahore hoping to become a film actor but has ended up driving a rickshaw for his Chacha. This daunting, grimy job, though, doesn’t dissuade our hero from dressing to the nines in suits, blazers, sherwanis and finely embellished kurtas. Only occasionally does Sikki resort to basic kurtas with waistcoats that still somewhat may resemble the garb of a rickshaw driver. An aesthetically glamorous movie only makes sense if the gloss is not overdone to the point of implausibility and while the wardrobe, a la HSY, is finely-tailored, it just doesn’t really fit into the story.

In a case of mistaken identity, Sikki gets entangled with the wily Annie, played by Humaima Malick. Annie has a predilection for inane coquetry and she constantly bats her eyes but actually, this is just a flirtatious charade. She turns out to be a con artist who swindles Sikki’s Chacha and leaves our hero brokenhearted.

Sometime later, Sikki bumps into Annie again at an ‘organic fruit and vegetable’ stall — yes, that’s the kind of fare they sell in DMPS’ fictitious Lahore — and demands that she return the money she stole. A few minutes of flirtatious banter convinces Sikki to switch sides and join Annie in her next few con jobs. They proceed to rob people with a series of hopelessly transparent, mostly mundane tricks and some twists and turns later, finally reach the inevitable ‘happily ever after’.

Sikander Rizvi is far too anglicised and well-groomed to emulate the Lahori rickshaw driver. He does show promise and given a stronger role, may have been able to perform more believably. Humaima looks beautiful in HSY but beyond wardrobe, her character is irritating and one sees none of the acting skills that enthralled us in Bol from years ago.

Sikander Rizvi, in his first acting role, is hardly convincing; far too anglicised and well-groomed to emulate the Lahori rickshaw driver. He does show promise and given a stronger role, may have been able to perform more believably. Humaima looks beautiful in HSY but beyond wardrobe, her character is irritating and one sees none of the acting skills that enthralled us in Bol from years ago. A greater focus on character development would have certainly boded well for this movie.

Local cinema may still be on the journey to revival but even at this nascent stage, DMPS has heavy-duty adversaries to contend with — local films with riveting storylines and direction as well as big-budget rivals from Bollywood. High expectations preceded DMPS, owing to the considerable pre-release promotions, but hype and hoopla can’t sell a movie. Catering to an audience that is now well-versed in its cinematic preferences, DMPS flails despite having some likeable moments.

The movie does boast occasionally funny spurts and features regaling cameos by Humayun Saeed, HSY and the inimitable Meeraji. One can also appreciate Asad-ul-Haq’s discerning eye for art direction and the apparent hard work that has been poured into the project.

But impeccable styling, flawless visuals, good-looking actors and even a Kaala dooriyan item-cum-shaadi song can’t save a movie lacking an engaging storyline. This, in a nutshell, is DMPS’ biggest flaw.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, August 23rd, 2015

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