A progressive thought on women’s empowerment is presented in the most regressive movie plot in Super Nani. Bharti Bhatia (Rekha)’s NRI grandson, Mann (Sharman Joshi) who gets his tenses mixed up when he speaks Hindi (unfortunately, that is meant to evoke laughter), arrives in India, without any bags, to see his grandma!
At home, he sees her being relegated to the kitchen by her family of bullies that includes her boorish husband, R K Bhatia (Randhir Kapoor in flashy maroon jackets), her son, her daughter-in-law (who aspires to be an actress) and a terribly irritating daughter — all of who take turns to remind Rekha that she shouldn’t even attempt crossing the threshold of their home.
Obviously, director Indra Kumar (who has previously given us hits like Dil, Beta, Raja, Ishq, Grand Masti) is stuck in a time warp. As are his lead characters, his writers and everyone else who is associated with this hackneyed movie.
So for the first half, you have the ‘bechari nani’ sporting grey strands in her hair and dark under-eye make-up constantly talking to her ‘Kanha'(God). As expected, in the second half, the grandson pays for her trip to the beauty salon and voila, what do you have? Rekha, the mannequin!
Super Nani becomes super model (nothing less, mind it), selling everything from dishwashers to detergents. To showcase her acting skills, Nani also does take-offs on cinema greats like Nargis, Waheeda Rehman and Madhubala. And, just when you are falling off your seat laughing, wondering what’s next in store, you are told Nani has won the woman of substance award for inculcating values in her errant children and wayward husband. Really?
Somewhere along the 133 minutes, you’re bound to wonder – why did drop-dead gorgeous Rekha agree to do this film? One can say that India’s self-styled Greta Garbo is a frog in the well. She obviously hasn’t seen English Vinglish and Queen during her Parliament break.
A sixty-something selfless grandma is worth as much as a kitchen mop to her selfish family. But her foreign-returned grandson transforms her into a woman of substance, in Pygmalion style.
The Times of India