#Rab ne bana di jodi movie dialogue tv
And the finale dance competition – both in its prize and in its presentation (too many flashback inserts) – is not even in the dramatic, suspense-fraught league of the TV Baliyes and Dikhlajas. There are tacky interludes, too, like the sumo wrestling bout and the special effects lights switched on and off in Amritsar. Quite clearly, the plot is as improbable as a flying kangaroo and as antiquated as a dinosaur. They don’t use the words pati parmeshwar. Is she plain blind, short-sighted or ditzy? And why does the director eventually lapse into utterly regressive stuff towards the finale with the woman falling at the man’s feet? She even equates him with God. You keep worrying why a woman can’t tell the difference between Surinder and Raj (not even the good old fake ‘massa’ or birth pimple here). Indeed, you wonder how the actor pulls it all off with conviction even when Aditya Chopra’s story, at its very concept, is absolutely implausible. Often when the screenplay flags, he keeps you engaged with his effortless schizophrenic shifts from a mild-mannered nerd to a jazzy Joe. For most part of the way, the spread is fun, feel-wonderful and perhaps expectedly, shouldered by a 10-on-10 performance by Shah Rukh Khan. Honestly, after quite a long famine you’re treated to a banquet of entertainment. Our Simple Surinder-turned-Rocking Raj makes you laugh and sob alternately. In effect, you get two SRKs for the price of one. And of other dual-personality-toting wonders from a wild variety of sources such as V Shantaram’s Navrang, Raj Kapoor’s Satyam Shivam Sundaram, Golmaal (Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s, please), and even a faint shade of Jerry Lewis’ Nutty Professor.
In fact, the Amritsar-domiciled Suri is a soul brother to the mousy Clark-Kent-cum-Superman. You don’t have to pity the bespectacled, Clark Gable-moustachioed Suri of Aditya Chopra’s Rab ne Bana di Jodi.