In a sequence from OMG 2, Kanti Sharan, played by the terrific Pankaj Tripathi, approaches the judge’s bench and discovers that its teak-lined, austere edges are covered in grime. Moments later, he cleans the entire courtroom as a sanctimonious act of preserving that which is otherwise deemed to be ‘pure’. “Yahi toh nyaay ka mandir hai,” he tells the judge, when asked. It’s a lovely moment that melds the rigidity of the court to the softness of the India’s conservative belief system. We are a people preoccupied with faith, constructed by its ideas but also hamstrung by its cynical judgements. Judgement that our conscience inherits from our naïve interpretations. Directed by Amit Rai, OMG 2, goes where maybe no film has gone to argue that sex, before it becomes a source of pleasure, has to also become an object of knowledge and education; as much as the culture we take pride in, the values we claim to be raised on. It’s not quite the cure for social ills that it comes to suggest, but it's a hell of a way to launch a difficult conversation.
This spiritual sequel to the hit film of a decade ago, OMG 2 charters its own course, and you could argue, tackles harder territory. Set in an unnamed, but religiously dense town –somewhere in UP - OMG 2 focuses on Kanti Sharan, a devout of Shiva, whose son embarrasses himself by consuming one too many boner pills. After Kanti discovers the truth behind his son’s mysterious hospitalization, he accosts him at first, but gradually begins to empathize with him. Egged on by bullies at school, the young boy conducts far too many experiments – some of them fairly ludicrous – as an exercise in reassuring his fragile sense of manhood. It’s a common myth that is threaded through the needle of some truly awful advice and misdirection. The consequences of which the innocent seeker has to bear by being shamed and suspended from his school. The coterie of poor mentors, opportunists and escapists who refuse to talk science and sense to him, however, isn’t confronted. It’s a task that Kanti, guided by divine power of course, takes upon himself.
Like the first film, the mainstay of this sequel is a court case that opens itself up to both ridicule and cautious debate. It is at once an abomination and the most relevant conversation a young India ought to be having. Kanti is forced to fight his own case – where he is an accused too - where he is somewhat philosophically assisted by Akshay Kumar, playing God. The film’s first winner is the casting slate. Yami Gautam is terrific as the sharp, at times ruthless lawyer defending the group of men accused of purveying the hackneyed untruths that qualify for sexual advice and education in this country. Pawan Malhotra is excellent as the empathetic judge who struggles with translating chaste Hindi. In a scene where he blankly walks across the courtroom to dismiss two idlers, you’ll be mesmerized by a version of him we simply haven’t seen enough of. Maybe this is a starting point of sorts.
The prize, however, for shouldering and practically animating a film that could so easily be bogged down by the hushed tone of its subject material, goes to Pankaj Tripathi. As Kanti, Tripathi is an unrefined, blunt version of himself. Someone who hasn’t read every book in his cabinet, but is willing to turn to them cometh the hour. It’s perhaps the best call made by the writers. For Kanti isn’t naturally flamboyant or a born liberal. He is instead slowly converted by the experiential education he opens himself up to. The books come and go, and of course there is mention of the Kamasutra, the sculptures of Ajanta and Ellora, but what makes the material eventually stick, is that cheeky, disarming body language that Tripathi could just open his own school of training for. Even Kumar, sporting dreadlocks, and ghettoish, hippy costumes looks like his charming, nonchalant old self. His comedic timing, and his pizzazz so to speak, return in an avatar that has repeatedly, gotten the best out of him. May he pay heed to the just rewards here. The softness of the former, thus, finds a rousing, elevating finishing touch is the goofy insouciance of the latter. Dare I say, it’s a match made in heaven.
Sex education is a fairly complex tapestry, something that even OMG 2’s fairly dogged inquiry struggles to canvas. In fact, the penultimate question that it deals with is possibly the trickiest to approach. Just how does one go about delivering this dictum in a country so diverse, so morally jagged. No one straight line connects two faiths, two cultures, let alone two families in this vast landscape that has learned to revel in its distinctions. Universality here is a whim, an idea that even OMG 2 can only metaphorically refer to as ‘nudity’. “Sach hamesha nanga hota hai,” Kumar says, somewhat simplistically, without the fabric of chequered social contracts to consider. It’s where the film writes itself into a corner, and finds convenient, easy routes. But it’s a minor blemish in a largely satisfying journey. For this is a courageous and important film. It might come across as a lot of men talking down to the rest, but maybe it needs to start with them first. At least someone put it in theatres, and made sure it made us laugh, cry and go home thinking about that catapulted, hastened journey between sensation and sin.
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