Wednesday, 1 April 2015

Film Review - MSG The Messenger


Oh My God!

Film:  MSG – The Messenger
Cast: Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh Ji Insaan, Daniel Kaleb,
Directed by: Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh Ji Insan, Jeetu Arora
Duration: Way too long
Rating: Not possible

MSG which doesn’t stand for Monosodium glutamate and was known as Messenger of God, now is just The Messenger. It is also one long commercial telling us about the exploits of one man. Had it not been 197 minutes long, it would have topped the so-bad-that-is-good charts.

You need a tub of popcorn to digest the fact that this ‘film’ has been written, produced, directed, and choreographed by Saint Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh Ji Insaan. Add to it, he has also done the art direction, action, lyrics, music and costume design. Speaking of the latter, it has to be the most hideous line of clothing known to mankind and that includes the caveman’s dress. But if those clothes work for his followers (there are 5 crore of them as we are told repeatedly) then who are we to complain? There in actually lies the difference – the film is strictly meant for those 5 crore people only. I guess they don’t need much convincing about the glory of the Dera Sacha Sauda chief, but nothing like a movie to keep the faith going. 

Leni Riefenstahl will be squirming in her grave watching this piece of propaganda.

Saint Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh Ji Insaan henceforth referred to as SGRRSJI makes a grand entry usually reserved for Salman Khan and the likes. In fact MSG is like a Bollywood film that appeals to the lowest common denominator except that it is another ten notches lower than an average Salman Khan film.

After singing a Honey Singh like song, he instantly takes on the bad guys and right away we know that the laws of Physics (or common sense) don’t apply to SGRRSJI. When knives are flung at him they turn into rose petals (I kid you not) and when bullets are fired at him, they all amalgamate into one and melt into a crown which conveniently flies and sits on his head. He can absorb thousands of volts of electricity (beat that, can you Spidey or Batman?) and also has a direct connection with God involving something called a Love charger.
Men, women, children of all ages refer to him as Pitaaji and that includes an Ukranian journalist who has come to all the way to do a documentary on him.

Dhan Dhan Satguru Tera Hi Asra” they all chant at least twenty times in the film. You are at a loss as to which cinema god you should pray to, to rescue you. 

When he is not riding fancy bikes and cars, he is involved in noble deeds like rescuing women from prostitution, organizing blood donation camps, fight drug abuse and doing a Swach Bharat campaign - and inventing games like Gulstick which is a cross between, cricket, baseball and good old gulli danda.

Every film needs a villain and here it is an imported one who has an assignment to kill Pitaaji. The climax is hilarious, it involves a suicide bomber who has a change of heart, but amusingly the bomb also has a countdown timer making her the dumbest suicide bomber in our entire solar system.  After performing so many miracles, including playing the guitar with both hands on an airborne bike over a pool, he declares “Mujhe bomb defuse karna nahin aata” Too bad he couldn’t turn the bomb into apple or jackfruit. But that would have robbed us of that spectacular climax on a bike that would put the Ghostrider one to shame.  

To be very fair, if he is promoting activities shown in the film like being inclusive towards the transgender community and bringing prostitutes in the main stream, then more power to him. But spare us the cinema, please.

The special effects are tacky and as for the acting, the furniture is far more expressive than any of the actors in the film and that is putting it politely.

Now brace yourself, a sequel to the film is on its way.

Published in The Navhind Times, Goa on 15th February 2015



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