From then on, Salman Bhai has essentially been parlaying Prem, or a variant of it, and has done best when he plays that guy with equal parts brawn-and-heart. And Sooraj Barjatya has essentially made the same film since, or a variant of it : in his universe, which essentially consists of a large Hindu joint family, the sons are ‘agyakari baalaks’, the male elders are benevolent despots, the women cook and serve, the men are pandered to, and pigeons and poodles are romantic accessories.

‘Prem Ratan Dhan Payo’, also heavily colour-coded via the Ramayan, draws heavily from Barjatya’s previous work , with one glaring cosmetic difference : he sets it not in homes that people like you and me live in, or relate to, but in a grand palace. We get not one but two Salmans for the price of one : a commoner called Prem Dilwale ( a play on SRK’s next, also called ‘Dilwale’?), and a prince called Vijay. They are identical looking, so you know where this is going from the get go : out pop the evil step brothers and deluded step sisters, faithful foot-soldiers ,a pretty princess, a dastardly plot, and tada, there’s your switcheroo.

We don’t need the unbelievably thin script to tell us that the pauper will provide life lessons to said ‘bhai’ ( Neil Nitin), ‘behen’ ( Bhaskar), faithful factotum (Anupam Kher), and toss out pro-tips to his look-alike to win over the ‘rajkumari’ (Sonam Kapoor). Barjatya’s canvas has been the unhurried interplay between families and their zillion ‘rishtedaars’, and the gentle, chaperoned, approved ‘nonk-jhonk’ between lovers. And even though I sometimes still find it difficult to believe that a ‘Hum Aapke Hain Kaun’ swept the nation in 1994 ( yeah, we know, we know it came at the right time and captured an audience heartily sick of the vulgarity and violence that Hindi cinema of the time had fallen prey to), Barjatya rescued his films from becoming maudlin messes with his gift of creating unexpected flashes of sweetness and emotional hooks.

‘Prem Ratan Dhan Payo’ begins well, with Salman being set up as a playful Ram ‘bhakt’ ( again, after ‘Bajrangi Bhaijaan’) and Dobriyal playing the hero’s-best-friend ( remember Laxmikant Berde in ‘Hum Aapke Hain Kaun’?). A zingy retro Ramayan is being enacted, with men playing female parts, and you settle down for some fun. But it’s almost as if this extended interlude is the only thing with any zest in this thing : the rest of it plays out as an out-dated rehash of the director’s own films ( including ‘Hum Saath Saath Hain’ which I am guiltily fond of) embedded in an outlandish, improbable plot. ‘Samdhijis’ and ‘mamajis’ and ‘mausijis’ in a Barjatya film are par for the course, but a king and a consort and blinding bling and a glittering glass palace? Karan Johar and Sanjay Leela Bhansali, where are you?

There’s always room, you suppose, for yet another reimaging of the Ramayan, and its million stories. Especially if it has Salman Khan, after all these years of practice, sliding effortlessly into being Prem, and lifting the film as much as he can, even managing quite miraculously not to giggle when his co-star, the-laden-in-tasteful-zardozi-and-industrial-weight-polki-diamonds-Kapoor, hands him a feather, very ‘Mughal-e-Azam’ style, in between her other clothes-horsing and jiggle-jaggling.

But not in this fumbling, confused, derivative way, where you can clearly see a director out of his depth and comfort zone, which had already started feeling moth-balled a while back : his last real success was ‘Vivaah’ in 2006. ‘HAHK’, for all its extended home video ‘sagaai-joota-chupaayi-shaadi-vidaai’ was all of a piece : in ‘Prem Ratan Dhan Paayo’ nothing belongs, nothing is a fit. And Ms Sonam Kapoor is lissome and quite lovely, but her slim derriere is no match for Ms Madhuri Dixit’s saucy, jutting butt in ‘HAHK’: nope, nothing in ‘PRDP’ for us, in the India of 2015.

Credit : Indian Express

PRDP Review by  Hindustan Times

A lot has changed in the Hindi film industry since 2006, the last time Sooraj Barjatya’s name flashed across the screens as a movie’s director. His Vivah didn’t exactly set the box office on fire, at least not on the lines of what his earlier films Maine Pyar Kiya, Hum Aapke Hain Koun and Hum Saath Saath Hain did on the ticket windows. Cut to 2015 and Barjatya has now rehashed the same formula in his latest venture, Prem Ratan Dhan Payo (PRDP), complete with a masterstroke: He roped in Salman Khan to up the film’s star value a million notches.

There is a problem, however. PRDP leaves you asking one big question: Are we ready to gulp down a mouthful of cheesy romance that is high on ideals and moral values?

It all begins in Ayodhya where Prem Dilwala (Salman Khan) is the self-appointed keeper of the collective social consciousness. After announcing his arrival with ‘Kisi ke haath chalte hain, kisi ke pair chalte hain…humare dono chalte hain’, he sets on a task to meet Princess Maithili (Sonam Kapoor) of Devgarh Fort. After some heavy-duty emotional scenes, he manages to enter the fort, but is left aghast at the deceit and treachery of a royal household. Prem, along with his friend Kanhaiya (Deepak Dobriyal), decides to be a part of all this, of course with noble intentions. Come on, this is a Barjatya film, not any Anurag Kashyap narrative. Can Prem crack the code and infuse happiness all around? Does he succeed in keeping the fort’s age-old traditions alive? Will you call your mother at the end of it? Will you return the entire cutlery you have stolen from hotels? Will you use a towel to wipe off your tears before the end credits?

Salman Khan set a benchmark for the ultimate Boy Scout with his Bajrangi Bhaijaan act, and now he surprises us even more. His character is so virtuous that you will walk out of the theatre fighting a morality crisis. He has a counterpart in Maithili who is solidly under-pressure to perform as per the royal decree. Our Miss goody two-shoes runs an NGO, eats at not-so-classy restaurants and wears matching clothes. And yes, she sometimes likes to flaunt her little black dress for some ‘quality time’ with her fiancé. Just to make sure the message is conveyed to the audience, Diwan Jee (Anupam Kher) explains ‘quality time’ with a lot of hesitation and innuendos. On second thoughts, you need to do this in a film which is strictly vegetarian in its approach. For your reference, people eat veg korma, tanduri bhindi and butter chole in PRDP. It’s all so ‘saatwik’ (pious), you see. Sweets lovers, don’t feel left-out, laddu-pede-jalebis have also been given ample screen time.

Kher as Diwan Jee is on an extension of his Saudagar (1991) role. You get what makes a proper ‘family’ film: Two families, fighting for land, none of them blessed with humility or family love. But, if it doesn’t ends well, then ‘Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost’. So, to complete the rest of the film, we have Yuvraj Ajay Singh (Neil Nitin Mukesh), Rajkumari Chandrika (Swara Bhaskar), Rajkumari Radhika (Aashika Bhatia) and some loyalists. One of these loyalists is Chirag Singh (Armaan Kohli). Remember Jaani Dushman Ek Anokhi Kahani?

It’s not like the director is absolutely sure of his own screenplay, but he chooses to keep marching on the road better travelled. In one of the scenes, a very important character is getting treated in a dungeon. Another one asks: “Why don’t we shift him to some hospital with security?” Diwan Jee says, “We can’t trust anyone,” which translates into ‘go take a walk haters, and don’t leave your logic behind’. That’s why I didn’t dare to even smile when Khan says, “Aap paristhiti ki gambhirta ko samajh nahi rahe hain.”

Take my words: Elephants, camels, palaces, exotic dishes and soft background score can’t make you happy. You need a family in order to be happy. So true, but isn’t it a bit stretched statement to make through a 174-minute film?

Salman Khan is quite likeable in PRDP. In fact, his comic timing has gotten better in recent times. Add to it the many honey-coated dialogues that make the proceedings funny. For example, Sonam says, “Ram jaisa kahenge Seeta waisa hi karegi.” As if they have already accepted themselves as divines. It’s a different matter that some religious people might get offended with Seeta breathing passionately. They keep delivering dialogues in slow motion. The pattern they follow is ‘dialogue – crescendo rises – dialogue – song.’

Credit : Hindustan Times

PRDP ( Prem Ratan Dhan Payo ) Review by Times of India

Straight away, Prem Ratan Dhan Payo is Salman Khan’s triumph. Salman simply blows the top off the theatres with a double role that makes you laugh, gasp, sigh – and cry. Prem Dilwale, Ayodhya’s Ram Leela artist, admires Princess Maithili (Sonam) and her charitable work. Prem decides to meet Maithili at the coronation of her fiance Prince Vijay (Salman) in Pritampur. But Vijay’s fallen prey to a conspiracy by his wicked brother Ajay (Neil) and relative Chirag (Armaan). As Vijay suffers their violent assault, Pritampur’s Diwan (Anupam) asks Prem to play Vijay’s part – and protect Maithili.

But what happens when Maithili is drawn to Prem? And when Vijay wakes up?

Salman performs with superb finesse, skillfully creating a caviar-chole bhature cinematic contrast. His Vijay is tense, terse and taut, radiating machismo but no gentleness, loneliness with king-sized ego. His Prem is luminous with life, cheekily cheery – teasing Diwanji as ‘virgin Bapu’ – then deepening, like sugar stirred into kheer, in silent gazes of hesitant love. The acting is ace – this year is Salman’s finest yet in cinematic grace.

Sonam carries off her princess beautifully, a stylish cross between Gayatri Devi and Coco Chanel, conveying a girl wrapped in delicate chiffon, but with a free, passionate soul. Deepak Dobriyal delights as Prem’s dost Kanhaiya, Armaan works a violent swagger well while Neil sulks as a sour prince whose gimlet has way too much lime. Playing bitter sisters, Swara and Aashika have one of the film’s sweetest moments – with a brother who stops being a royal pain.

There are slight drawbacks. Some unconvincing sequences – a feudal football match, giggling flood relief, dancing halwais, action atop a plyboard mahal – could’ve been trimmed. But the film captures the gold-rimmed goggles and mothballed notions of a mofussil maharaja. And alongside tradition, it presents modernity too, in a princess who chooses her own prince – and an aam aadmi more regal than royalty (whose feather redefines Mughal-e-Azam’s love scene).

Ghee-soaked in goodness, PRDP is gift-wrapped with a simple line.

With family, stand strong – but also bow.

Because nothing hurts like your own blood – and nothing heals like it too.

Movie Review Credit : India Times

PRDP Review by NDTV

Credit : NDTV