“Yeh jo human body hain na, iske bardasht karne ka ek limit hote hain.”
A dead girl has been found. The police investigator Rahul Dev tells Jimmy: “ladki ki mutthi main paayi gaaye hain tumhare baal”. As we all know, when a girl’s dead body is unearthed that too with a man’s “baal” in her hand and with his driving license right next to her, the case seems to be pretty clear and shut. The final nail in the coffin is when Jimmy, an automotive engineer (Matlab Simulink guru) during day and DJ (Dancing Joker) at night, confesses to the heinous crime with a “khoon kiya hain maine” that echoes for effect.
The final nail did I say?
The real drama is only just beginning.
Cause in “Jimmy”, by far the year’s best “zero level” movie till now, nothing is as it seems.
As the audience navigates through its twisted and very sophisticated plot, almost every other scene seems to throw up yet another new conundrum.
Why for instance does Jimmy confess to wearing two socks on the same foot?
Why does the breakfast of a man obviously struggling with his weight (i.e. Jimmy) consist of a pile of white bread and two eggs?
What kind of dystopic world is it where Shakti Kapoor is a police inspector? [Sidelight: Shakti’s character is introduced with the camera focusing on him scratching his buttocks?
Why does everyone in the movie think aloud and “introduce themselves” to the camera as they make their first appearance?
Why does a father say to his son: “Yeh thappad ko mat bhoolna mere bete. Tere maan ne bhi mujhe aisi thappad mari thi”?
How come the police investigator, Rahul Dev, is always present in the shadows listening everytime anyone says anything of importance?
Why is it that for a movie that takes place supposedly in the present time, all the prices are those prevailing during the 80s? (A murder accomplice is bribed the princely sum of two lacs !)
Does Jimmy swing both ways like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct?
Why, when an evil man is trying to smother Jimmy by putting a plastic bag on his face, is Jimmy seen holding on to the bag around his neck while being punched, as if somehow the director has told Mimoh, playing Jimmy, to hold the bag in its place lest it come off?
Why does the evil man wear overcoats and cowboy boots?
Why does the murderer get Shakespearan and yell “Am I a rejected person?”
Can Jimmy control the laws of Physics, like his dad can?
And most importantly, why was this movie ever made?
Let me answer the last question and leave you to find the answers for the rest yourself.
“Jimmy”, named after the iconic song “Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Aaja Aaja” from Prabhuji’s leela “Disco Dancer”, is the launch vehicle for Mithun-da’s son Mimoh Chakraborty or as we call him around here Baby Prabhu.
A bit of history. Mimoh, named after Michael Jackson and Mohammed Ali (there is a tribute to Michael Jackson in “Jimmy” —-no there was no children involved but Jimmy grooves to a song to the tune of Billy Jean)was in his own words, studying astrophysics, planning to get into NASA (possibly as a rocket ballast) and struggling with his 120 Kg weight, when he got bitten by the acting bug, went to the US and trained under the greatest cinematic shaolins.
And now with “Jimmy” he is here to show us what he has learnt. And to answer the question: does Mimoh have it in him to become the next cinematic demi-God?
I can say, with pride, that he does.
First the dancing—the most important arrow in the quiver of a serious actor.
Mimoh can move.
Whether it be the breaks, the Jackson jhatkas, the robot or the “intestine” move (here Jimmy moves his body sinuously as if it is the large intestine forcing a lump of digested food through to the orifice of ejection), Jimmy’s dance is Godly—-it is almost like watching the dance of Shiva with Mimoh’s feet giving off cosmic background radiation.
Of course due credit must be given to Bappa Lahiri, son of Bappi Lahiri for giving Mimoh amazing music to dance to.
Just like Mithun-da and Bappi Lahiri changed the course of India in the 80s, their sons get together to make history once again with Bappa showing he is a chip of the old block by ripping off the refrain from Eminem’s “Shake that ass for me” for the song “Boomshanker Bolo”.Equally amazing is the song “Marhabba” which when sung by the chubby-cheeked Mimoh sounds like “Morobba”, which in Bengali (Mimoh’s mother tongue) means jelly.
Then of course there is the physique. Now we are all well aware that Mimoh has been panned for being “fat”. Let me assure that Mimoh is not fat. He is, as Eric Cartman of South Park would say, big-boned. What makes him look corpulent is that he has does have a fat baby face (as well as voice) on a well-developed physique. Blame it on his mother Yogeeta Bali whose face (and perhaps metabolism) Mimoh has inherited. As Mimoh, in a tribute to his mother (a tribute sure to bring tears to the eye of all mothers).
I’ve very broad shoulders. I’ve inherited these big bones and the muscular look from my beautiful mother.
Now you cannot hold the “muscular look” against him—can you?
And finally the acting. A graduate from the New York Film Academy, Mimoh is a living testament as to how useful a 3 month crash course in the US can be. What many do not know is that he was accompanied in his US sojourn by Mithun-da who cooked for him and cleaned his apartment so that Mimoh can gain the maximum benefit from his education. And the investment that has been made into Mimoh’s histrionic abilities has paid off, many times over as amply demonstrated by his performance in Jimmy which lesser reviewers (many of whom have no Amrika background in movies) have called wooden, amateurish and infantile.
These people have not only nitpicked about Mimoh’s performance but also commented negatively on the movie “Jimmy” in general calling it a cheap rehash of all the hoary old Hindi movie cliches arranged one after another—the poor man loving the rich girl, the evil partner trying to marry his “aiyaash” spolit brat to the rich girl, the all-suffering mother, dialogs like “mere saans aap ke paas gidvi hain” (“saans” [breath] and not saas [mother-in-law]) etc etc. Of course these people do not understand the concept of a “tribute to the 80s” and, like Kangsa Mama and Pontius Pilate, fail to recognize divinity even when it is right in front of their face.
So ignore these reviewers and other assorted fools who know not what they do or say.
Do the right thing.