Jism
Director: Amit Saxena
Music: M.M Kreem;Lyrics: Sayeed Quadri/Neelesh
Mishra
Year: 2003
Running Time: 2 hours 15 minutes
O.K. – stop giggling. Jism. Get it out of your
system and say it out loud a few times. Considering the focus of the pre-release
hype for this film it’s no wonder that many coming across the title might
think Jism was more in line with the English meaning than the Hindi meaning
(body). The advance publicity was all about selling sex – the raciest Bollywood
film ever, graphic sexual situations, lots of revealing flesh and starring
two of Bollywood’s hottest young actors – one of them being the current
poster pin-up girl Bipasha Basu. It sounded like a heady mix of murder
and desire that had the older film establishment wagging their tongues
in disapproval – here was the beginning of the decline of good taste in
Indian cinema as they adapted western standards on sex, promiscuity and
morality.
In the end, it turned out that much of this hype
and rumor was exaggerated to get ticket buyers in the seats. There is no
nudity and not really any more revealing flesh than a typical modern Bollywood
film, there are not any steamy sex scenes either though use is made of
blindfolds and ice cubes in an erotic fashion – but what the film does
deliver is a deliciously immoral heroine with really no redeeming qualities
beyond glistening kissable lips, perfect almond eyes and a killer body
that has good men doing bad things.
Unfortunately, it isn’t really enough to give
this film the shot of adrenaline that it badly needs. It sputters along
in a tired obvious manner until it picks up near the end and at times tested
my patience to the near breaking point. The main problem is a simple one
– Bipasha is the main reason to see this film, but she is the mystery woman
and so the viewers are given only selected cloudy pieces of her – the prime
focus of the film follows Kabir who falls under the sexual magnetism and
mystique of Bipasha – and Kabir (played by newcomer John Abraham) is a
very annoying and unsympathetic fool.
Sonia (Bipasha) is beautiful, desirable, wealthy
and married. She likes the first three parts of that equation, but isn’t
so fond of the fourth as her husband (Gulshan Grover) is an older man who
rightfully wants to keep her and her libido on a short leash. She should
wear a neon sign as a fashion accessory that blinks “femme fatale” in red
lights so that no one could miss it. Except poor Kabir – he would even
miss the blinking sign. Kabir is a bottom rung lawyer more in touch with
his whiskey flask than his few clients, but still manages to look very
Miami Vice with his always present two day stubble and his lightweight
linen suits.
One morning he sees Sonia coming out of the surf
and he goes into smarmy overdrive like a dog searching for his bone – almost
tripping over his tongue in his eagerness to bed her. She protests that
she is a married woman and wiggles her hips and licks her lips as she plays
him like a yo-yo in need of a spin. He is soon so smitten with her that
his colors almost clash and he painfully alternates expressions between
a lounge lizard smirk and a crybaby pout. His lack of acting skills would
have a holy man on a meditation retreat cursing him in silence. Boo-hoo
– the husband has the nerve to touch his woman – the thought is soon torturing
Kabir – gee, Sonia whispers gently into his ear – if only my husband wasn’t
here we would be together and be rich – ding – the light bulb goes on in
Kabir’s empty head. My advice is to watch the American film that this was
modeled on - Body Heat - instead.
The musical numbers are fairly forgettable – no
choreography to speak of as the picturization mainly consists of the two
love birds looking into each other eyes and taking long walks on the beach
– and though the music is serviceable the songs are primarily ballads that
didn’t stick in my head for any time at all. Bispasha on the other is stuck
there like crazy glue on steroids!
My rating for this film: 5.5
Song
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