In-fact in one of the scenes, a soggy biscuit dropping into a cup of tea is used to describe Mudit's dysfunction erectile state.
'Shubh Mangal Saavdhan' is a remake of the Tamil film 'Kalyana Samayal Saadham' made in 2013, the movie is a light hearted flick that can be seen by the whole family despite of its taboo subject and for that hats off to the director for taking forward this movie in a hilarious manner without being vulgar or awkward at any point. How he deals with the 'gents problem'(that what it is called in the movie) without affecting his loved relationship with Sugandha is what the movie is all about.Īyushmann Khurrana & Bhumi Pednekar’s crackling chemistry and sweet banter in the movie makes it a must watch! But, alas! Their 'shubh mangal' start meets a road block when one fine day(romantic night at Sugandha's place) Mudit discovers that he suffers from erectile dysfunction.
The duo soon get a thumbs up from their parents and are now all set to convert their short-lived romance into life-long commitment of marriage. This lesson in queer spectatorship informs us that all these films that have preceded SMZS can be considered as gay/queer films if one chooses to read them as such.Shubh Mangal Saavdhan poster Story: Delhi based Mudit Sharma (Ayushmann Khurrana) and Sugandha (Bhumi Pednekar) accidentally meets one fine day at their work in Nehru Place where cupid struck the two and they fall in love. Through a fantastic cinematic strategy of invoking iconic moments of Bollywood film - such as the repeated references to Amitabh Bachchan, parodying the Jai-Veeru coupledom, and recreating the train scene from Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995) - and turning them around to render queer effects, the film challenges its own claims that this is the “first” gay romantic comedy. Sexuality is hardly a given identity but emerges at different moments through complex, and often hilarious, ways of seeing and un-seeing, reading and misreading. SMZS then capitalises on this idea that it is difficult to separate the domain of the sexual from the non-sexual, the homophobic from the homoerotic, and finally the hetero from the homo. In a scene, where Aman’s father beats Kartik with a stick, the camera runs into a slow-motion video with the background score - “Kya karte the sajna tum humse dur rehke, Hum toh judai mein akele, Chhup chhup ke roya karte the.” SMZS taps on this notion of queerness as a matter of spectatorship, divorced from the narrow limits of identity and demonstrates the multiple possibilities that Bollywood offers and has historically offered to generations of queer people.
More than a question of identity, gayness with regard to these visual artefacts is negotiated in terms of sensuousness, camp aesthetics, and melodramatic extravagance. To many queer folks, the dialogues and songs of Devdas (2002) and Pakeezah (1972) are far more endearing than those of Dostana (2008) or Kapoor & Sons (2016). Meena Kumari, Sridevi, Helen, Madhuri, Rekha, amongst others, have been queer icons to generations of kothis and gays, who would imitate their ultra-femme dance moves and sway hips at private parties and personal gatherings. Firstly, many queer scholars such as Shohini Ghosh and Kareem Khubchandani have pointed out how the Bollywood film industry, through its melodrama, high-camp songs, dances, and item numbers, have offered sites of identification to queer people. I would mention two things in this regard.