It’s here. The cinematic marvel of the year. In the dull Hindi film landscape, inundated with South remakes and re-releases, Badass Ravi Kumar promised to be a droll watch. It seemed like an irony, a mockery of all those masala action flicks Hindi cinema drools over. Its trailers proudly proclaimed it as a film from the '80s, an era when Bollywood was at its most ludicrous. The film opens with an advisory: “Logic optional.” But soon, you realize it was a warning.
Badass Ravi Kumar tricks you into thinking it knows what it's doing. At a time when films aren’t making you laugh with them, you think, at least here’s something I can laugh at. But the whole self-mockery and self-awareness of Badass is just eyewash for absolute nonsense. A bad film that knows it is bad might not be a bad film. Badass Ravi Kumar is just bad.
Directed by: Keith Gomes
Starring: Himesh Reshammiya, Kirti Kulhari, Sanjay Mishra, Saurabh Sachdeva, Johnny Lever, Prabhu Deva
The plot is so haphazard that I might have to stand on my head to make sense of it. I will still try. There is a reel (the pre-Instagram kind) that contains the location and codes of some missiles in India. Zaid Bashir from Pakistan wants it. Now, I don’t know if Zaid is a general or a businessman from the neighbouring country, but who cares? What matters is that he is from an enemy mulk. He is played by Manish Wadhwa (the bad Pakistani general from Pathaan), which should give you some idea. Zaid strikes a deal with the colourful Carlos Pedro Panther (an enjoyable Prabu Deva), an arms dealer and a Taj Mahal lover (don’t ask), to get the reel. Don’t worry, the reel doesn’t need to be extracted from a secure government vault or anything—it is conveniently with Laila (Kirti Kulhari), a femme fatale. How do we know she’s a femme fatale? Because she has a bob cut and she smokes.
When Interpol learns about this super-important reel, they can’t help but send their best man to retrieve it. Ravi Kumar (Himesh Reshammiya) is a force of nature. He is so badass that he once threw a politician out of a helicopter (he was corrupt) and only got suspended for it. He is so badass that he wears a leather jacket in a Middle Eastern country. He is so badass that when he shoots with his triple-barrel gun, he sends any number of goons flying. He is so badass that he only speaks in rhythmic, mic-drop dialogues. On the mission, Ravi Kumar is accompanied by Sanjay Mishra and Johnny Lever, who serve as more comic relief than actual sidekicks. There is also Sunny Leone as the honey trap. Acclaimed actors like Saurabh Sachdeva and Prashant Narayanan play cops. Since The Xposé (2014), which had the late Irrfan Khan in a guest appearance, I have been amazed by Himesh Reshammiya’s ability to convince great actors to join obviously preposterous projects.
What is not convincing is Himesh’s acting. Even while trying to parody a macho action-star, he only ends up parodying himself. The whistle-worthy dialogues, penned by Bunty Rathore, were meant to be the film’s USP, but most of the time, they are wasted in context-less scenarios. There is often no buildup—the dialogues are just being spewed because they were handy. Events unfold on screen plainly and dully, with little to no irony. You can’t question the action VFX because the film warned you in the beginning itself (“VFX 80s style”). A song sequence, which typically occurs in Hindi films while the final heist is taking place in the background, morphs into six song sequences because well, it can. The villain Carlos, maybe to appear evil, plays an assault rifle like a flute. While stealing a necklace, Ravi Kumar camouflages himself as the floor. At one point, Johnny Lever dresses up as a Sheikh just to deliver the line, “Wallah Habibi, ye marega kabhi bhi.” I was amazed at how unabashedly nonsensical the film became with every passing second. After a while, it felt like Himesh was controlling the film’s narrative, as if it were his absurd, lucid dream. For me, it was just a torturous nightmare.