Supercop Ravindra (Govinda) is called in to tackle the law and order situation in a city after a villain unleashes his wrath. But to put an end to crime, the cop has to bring out the actor within.
How do you get over Govinda's image from the 90's films? Simple- you don't! His brand of comedy seems a tad outdated, which explains why it must have been difficult for the super entertainer to make a dashing comeback. Aa Gaya Hero is a testament to why his films may not have worked of late.
With an inexistent story, all the film does is glorify Govinda. The actor tries hard to bring in his trademark swag as he plays the James Bond-like cop. He is fearless and has a way of convincing everyone. As a supercop, he introduces something called an 'Abhinay Chakra' to the Home Minister. The whole idea is to act out a planned operation in order to catch a supervillain, whose only identity is a maniacal laugh.
As is expected from a Govinda movie, there are song and dance sequences, over-the-top dialogues and the likes. But in Aa Gaya Hero, he tries to eclipse all the mindless comedies of the 90's while doing a supposedly serious role, dressed in track suits and tuxedos.
There are actors like Ashutosh Rana, Milind Shinde, Makarand Deshpande and Murli Sharma who are completely wasted. The film is full of inconsequential comedy that goes on for two hours and if you survive by the end of it, a ‘Finisher’ trophy is the least the makers can give you.
Not to forget, our Bond-esque Chi Chi woos multiple arm-candies and breaks into a dance every five minutes throughout the movie. Unfortunately, besides the actor’s trademark dance moves, there is nothing worth watching here. The 'hero' might just need to make another comeback soon and hopefully a more 'relevant' one this time.
A minute of silence for Govinda fans who may attempt this one for nostalgia. The actor who reigned over the silver screen in the 90s with his fluid dance moves and cheeky dialogue-baazi has finally come of age and it isn’t a graceful maturity. One may argue that he deserves credit for surviving as a main lead when most of his contemporaries have resigned to character roles or obscurity. But given that he’s headlining films such as this one, the argument barely holds.
ACP Ravindra Verma (Govinda) doesn’t wait for orders to take action because “he’s not a waiter”. As he puts it, “Na saboot dhoondta hoon, na gawah dhoondta hoon, mujrim nazar aaye toh channey ki tarah bhoonta hoon.” Marching down to Rashtrapati Bhawan, he shares the grouse of law and order keepers with the PM and how India doesn’t arm them with the license to kill. This he pins as a reason for the country’s disproportionate crime rate and he’s assigned a secret mission.
Almost like a tribute to the 80s (when Hindi cinema went through its worst creative recession), this one features an eclectic mix of bad guys — each involved in drugs, murders, campus rapes, bomb blasts and everything in between. But not for long, not under Verma’s watch anyway. Catering to front-bencher seetis, Verma packs in his punches with solid punch lines such as, “Naam poochne ke pehle diaper toh pehen lo.” A quirky twist to the most cliché line in Hindi cinema has someone threatening our top cop with, “Maa ka doodh piya hain toh pistol phek de.” Verma nonchalantly responds with, “Nahin peeya hain,” and shoots him. But the line that seems right out of a Kanti Shah film has one of the bad guys introducing his moles as, “Khana khilaya hua aadmi dhoka de sakta hain, doodh pilaya hua saap nahin”.
The plan to nab the bad guys is an elaborate ruse called ‘abhinay chakra’. Breaking this down will lead to disintegration of the nervous system besides serving as a spoiler, so we’ll leave it to your imagination.
It is upsetting to see Govinda here. With an enviable filmography, one wants to remember him as the ‘Number 1’ star whose memorable one-liners and dance numbers can’t be replicated by any contemporary actor. The film also stars Murli Sharma, Ashutosh Rana and a range of retired villains. The film’s modest budget doesn’t keep them from realising their grand vision. One of the master villains has a foldable airplane which slides into his evil lair — inside a mountain which swishes open like a PowerPoint slide.
From Lohe da liver to Dirty Flirty, each number has Govinda, often accompanied by a dozen Caucasian PYTs, doing what he does best—gyrating like few others can.
Govinda’s final piece to camera has him offering a PSA, “If you want to clean the city, you have to first clean your heart.” While the noble thought touches the heart, the vehicle used to deliver it annihilates cells in another organ.