Of Dope and Dum­belles

India Today - - MAIL - by Bindu Ba­tra

If Cha­ras­does not make it as an anti- dope film, it com­pen­sates in “rel­e­vance” by de­nounc­ing wicked men who en­gage in smug­gling. Women are another mat­ter, par­tic­u­larly if they look like Hema Malini, do phoney Egyp­tian dances, ex­pose their ( rather too) well- padded midriffs, ex­ploit their curves to tit­il­late the sex- starved au­di­ence and are silly enough to sub­mit to black­mail. In­deed, the more dim- wit­ted they are, the more ap­peal­ing they tend to be.

The poor work­ing girl who has to sup­port her invalid fa­ther and school- go­ing sis­ter by be­ing a fa­mous dancer is apt ma­te­rial for an In­dian hero­ine. If, in ad­di­tion, she is ab­ducted ( thrice); on the verge of be­ing raped ( twice); sus­pected of mur­der ( once); and makes sick­en­ing lit­tle re­marks ( more of­ten than is good for any­one) like " In­dian women don’t do that be­fore mar­riage”— that stand­ing for kiss­ing ( re­mem­ber G. D. Khosla?) — and “please do not touch me, the trea­sures of my body are held in trust for the man I love”, then she is all set for a box- of­fice hit.

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