Her whining, criticial nature may be meant to make up for the “Americanness” lacking in the rest of her–and for this I could cut them some slack, since movies everywhere can too easily cross the line when attempting cute precociousness. The daughter grew up in New York, was isolated from Hindi friends and family, and can only speak Hindi poorly–yet she speaks with a heavy Hindi accent. First, the annoying sidekick is Diya’s 12-year-old daughter-a frumpy, bespectacled, Hindi-accented cynic. It is no surprise that Bollywood would have annoying sidekicks or inexplicable changes of mind, but Aaja Nachle tests the limits of audience’s patience. The film contains several infuriating bits (which are in no way related to naughty bits). Unfortunately, that bit of realism doesn’t make the film any more enjoyable, since–let’s be honest–we watch Bollywood for the beauty of the actors and the dance, not its realistic charm. These actors looked and danced like regular people.
Everything is predictable in this movie, but I have to give it props for hiring unknowns to play the role of the villagers who want to become the stars of the dance troupe. Diya returns to her village to bring the troupe back to life and win everyone she wronged back to her side–and in the one surprise of the movie, she wins them back not by repentance but by persistent good spirits. Diya makes her living as a dance instructor until she learns her troupe leader back home is dying and the dance troupe is defunct.
Once in America, the marriage ends, but not before a daughter is produced. The plot of the movie centers on a girl, Diya, from a medium-sized village she is in a popular dance troupe but ends up running away with a National Geographic photographer on the night of her arranged marriage to a sad puppy-dog of a restaurateur. I understand that in real life, Madhuri lives in Denver now, so she can’t just pop over to Mumbai to play the mum or do a wink-wink cameo, but Aaja Nachle is not the right answer to “how do we throw fans a bone/gain new US fans?” She’s talented enough she could be cast in Hollywood movies, but that’s a doubtful possibility, since Hollywood’s not exactly known for pursuing older foreign ladies unless they have a British accent, spiderweb tats, and laudable bosoms or unless they have a British accent and don’t mind playing a grumpy witch. It is clear that this film is solely a Madhuri Dixit vehicle, and by vehicle I mean advertising bicycle cart that she rides while shouting through a megaphone, twirling her so-2008 neck scarf and shaking her Calvin Klein-jeaned bootie.
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