Starring Farooq Shaikh, Deepti Naval, Ravi Baswani, Rakesh Bedi Directed by Sai Paranjpye Rating: **** The idea of releasing the original Chashme Buddoor alongside its remake is original. Audiences who perhaps were not even born when Farooq Shaikh and Deepti Naval captivated a whole generation of moviegoers with their unaffected camaraderie, get a chance to see why the movies in the 1970s and 80s by Hrishikesh Mukherjee, Basu Chatterjee and Sai Paranjpye were considered heart-warming windows into the soul of the middleclass. Chashme Buddoor harks back to that era of innocence when college students chased girls all across town hoping to get them to agree to a coffee or a movie. Sex, if at all, was never discussed. The gently clever plot of Sai’s film could be divided into three movements. In the first movement Rakesh Bedi and Ravi Baswani playing despicably deceptive pals to the relatively sober Farooq Shaikh, cook up an elaborate fantasy romance with the girl next door Deepti Naval. In the second movement the devilish duo tries to mess up Shaikh’s romance with Deepti. And in the third and final movement Bedi and Baswani desperately try to reconcile the lovers. The narrative is strewn with a warm bonhomie that suggests a sense of equilibrium in the universe even when human intentions are far from legitimate or sensible. What works wonderfully for Sai Paranjpye’s game-plan is the credible actors, each embracing his or her character with the conviction of permanent ownership. Farooq and Deepti are as convincing as a couple as any two strangers who decide to forge a relationship probably because they haven’t met too many potential soul-mates to choose from. Baswani and Bedi’s roguishness bolsters the plot’s action forward into a logical finale. Incredibly the Farooq-Baswani-Bedi trio smokes all through the film. There is hardly a frame where one or all three are not seen puffing away at the cancer stick. Perhaps this is a sign of those relatively innocent times when youngsters smoked because they thought they looked cool doing so. While most of the episodes still hold up with edifying momentum some of what seemed cleverly innovative 30 years now seems only to be self-indulgent. There’s an elaborate song in a park where Farooq and Deepti wonder how couples in films manage to sing loudly in public places. Then they proceed to do the same to the accompaniment of sniggers from onlookers. Offbeat or middle-of-the-road filmmakers always demonstrated a discomfort with conventions of mainstream cinema. Were they just genuinely disdainful of the pot-boiler or cloaking in snobbery their inability to cope with conventional ingredients? In Chashme Buddoor Sai Paranjpye ably straddles the two worlds of a superior intellectual projection of cinematic conventions and mass entertainment. See the film for its cute and still-fresh take on love and courtship. And yes, there is a cameo by the Big B and Rekha where he courts the girl by pretending to have found her handkerchief. This was 1980s. No one could escape the Bachchan trap. Not even Sai Paranjpye who made the art of ladki patana look decent. Even when the protagonists used cheesy pickup lines they were never offensive. Those were innocent times. A waiter is shown to become privy to Farooq’s courtship with Deepti. It’s the waiter who announces interval in the film. Characters in this film are allowed to be clever even at the cost of crossing the camera range. It’s a world of cerebral satire where lovers avoid being filmy but don’t mind if their togetherness suggests an affinity with screen couples who woo one another with songs and poetry. Chashme Baddoor is world freed of pain. Though the characters inhabit the middle-income group they are untouched by suffering. No one dies in Chashme Baddoor. Not even while laughing. There are no ‘LOL’ moments in Sai’s scheme of humour. We smile because the sound of loud laughter doesn’t suit this film’s purposes. Easy does it.