Dreams was in the news for many reasons. For one, Bhuwan KC was directing his son Anmol KC in what seemed like a re-jig of the namesake character KC played in last year’s Jerry. Like in Jerry, a new starlet was also seen along with KC.
Unlike Jerry, Bhuwan KC’s Dreams exists in a surfeit of borrowed one-liners, free-flowing wine, balloons and confetti–all highly manipulative devices used in excess to bring forward a romance that works only if you believe in the Cupid and the Santa Claus.
You may ask what is wrong with that. People in love do actually go out on romantic dinners, gift chocolate and roses and belt out silly jokes that only the two people madly in love can understand. But to gift wrap all of this in excess in a feature-length movie with no regards to craft, whatsoever, is where Dreams collapses.
In one scene, the camera lingers ever so slightly on a frame where one beautiful person is pouring wine for the other beautiful person and then cuts to a closeup of the deep red of the wine touching the sparkling glass only because it’s beautiful. And for every glass of wine poured on the countless evening out the lead (Anmol KC and Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah) takes, there is a borrowed one-liner taken straight from a Hallmark greeting card, that too spoken without any conviction.
Its two-hour-plus run time is a smattering of scenes like these. Mildly amusing one-liners, bad analogies (‘girls are like chewing gum’ and ‘boys are like candles’) and contrived emotions are thrown together on top of a thin plot that ends before it actually begins.
Mildly amusing one-liners, bad analogies and contrived emotions are thrown together on top of a thin plot that ends before it actually starts.
In the movie, Abhi Pratap Malla (KC) a young heir to a hotel empire falls for a feisty girl (Shah). Initial tensions between the two are cleared in ways opening up scope for drama, comedy and action before the two finally start considering falling in love. But Abhi has a terrible gift, one that can destroy everything he has ever felt for.
In a way, Dreams is actually more about the inbred dream (or fantasy?) of the ruled wanting to take over the ruling. This is apparent in the office – a sprawling hotel empire handed over by his deceased father – the young Abhi holds. A white Caucasian female is seen in tow everywhere Abhi goes handing documents for him to sign and reminding him of his appointments.
Even Abhi’s inaugural happens in the presence of a pool of white people and the resounding sound of their collective ‘Welcome sir!’
In a way, it’s like the movie is self-assured that its scope, apparently taken from similar genre movies of yore, is at the same level or has even surpassed them.
It’s like saying we have arrived and beaten them in their own game. Here, white people work for us and ‘we’ go out to bars and restaurants and revel in the way of reveling handed over to us by them.
The only redeeming factor of the two hour long fantasy is its lavish cinematography, especially during the latter part of the movie.
