Dhobi Ghat- the name sounds like a rusty, metallic, sepia view of part of Mumbai’s history that runs its present.
The promos of the movie lured one of a web of various stories of life in Mumbai in Mumbai’s life.
Even the beginning and the first half an hour of the movie left no stone unturned to raise the expectations level of the movie.
Finding old CDs in box, silver ring that entails a past, the non-ghajini psycho painter Aamir etc hinted towards an unfolding mysterious story.
The movie doesn’t give the story of someone’s life, but knits one life in others’ stories.
Aamir Khan (who believes in impersonating the perfectionist. 3 idiots, tare zameen pe protagonisism being instances)
Failed relationships, liberty to choose, and the saliva dripping taste of money. This is what Mumbai comprises of. The movie, but fails to polish the facts with its pen and paper and the color box.
The stories are set up from the lens of a camera-man, painted with the brush of a painter and shot with the spirit of Mumbai.
One finds it unusual for a girl to invite, offer chai, eat out and watch movies with your laundrywala, no matter how handsome he is.
But, as they say that nothing is errant from point view of an artist, so some opine to give that exemption to it.
The story is unfit for the Indian mentality and one step above the IQ of a Mumbaikar, if we talk of artistic sense.
Those who got tempted with the trailers ended up piddling around, after the story(s) started.
Those, with higher level of patience levels, held their sleeves for 90 minutes, without break and added a medal to their shoulder for tolerating the intolerable.
There were some (like me) who waited for the movie to end, after it had already ended, trying to fathom if the Director failed in befooling us or forgot to befool us.
Recommendations: Go with a low expectation level, if you are an Aamir Khan fan, erase the promos seen on TV from your mind, sit back and enjoy the photography.
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