Jayakrishna, fondly called as Jockey, has a fetish for undergarments and is a strong votary for their public display. He is pained by the society which reprimands skimpily clad women, especially those flaunting their undergarments from their no waist, I mean, low waist jeans. He is supported by one sister and two girl friends, one in-house (Maradalu) and one next house. The former is fair and fat (Charmee) and the later is fair and flat (Ileana). Towards the end, fat makes way for the flat. A metaphoric depiction of upholding the socialist principle of haves making way for the have-nots.
The films is extravagant from the word go. More characters than that can fit on a 35 mm film. More dialogues than you can possibly hear. More songs than you can remember. In short, the first half of the movie is a walk in the clouds. Aimless, directionless and meaningless. It has everything other than a story. If you find that the interval is no where in sight then it is not your fault. You need to beg, bribe and finally bash up the operator in the projector room before you get that much needed relief. But before that, the doting sister of Jockey dies of a fire accident caused due to her sari catching fire in the kitchen. He solemnly vows that he would not rest till he liberates all the Indian girls from the clutches of traditional dress and attains them the freedom to bare themselves in bikinis. With that, the director leaves you to take a break and get ready for a second dose of gang bang. Let me again remind you that the theaters are sealed and you cant run away.
In the second half, Jockey takes inspiration from the Swadeshi movement and decides to burn all cloths except undergarments. Such is his obsession that he doesn’t care even if the cloths are on someone’s back. It is here where Krishna Vamsi slightly, very slightly, loses the grip over the script. The director seems to have got confused between serial killing and mating of lions. (When mating, the lions copulate every 20 to 30 minutes for 4-5 days) Nevertheless, the manner in which Jockey seamlessly travels across the breadth of
Since, Jockey is a guy for the women, by the women and of the women, the police department gets a hysterical women police officer, Suhasini. She often shrieks in such high pitch that the theaters had to install temporary noise reduction devices to prevent damage to the speakers. You should keep in mind that this sound is a supplement to Jockey’s angry verbal spews. You now know whom Spielberg hired for giving voice to Tyrannosaurus Rex in
Finally, mercy dawns on Jockey and he decides to surrender. In the court, he asks the judge for two minutes before the judge pronounces his verdict. When you eagerly start your stopwatch, you realize that he meant two minutes on Pluto (whose 1 year equals to 248 earth years). By the time he completes his harangue on the socio-cultural, economic, political, psychological and historical importance of undergarments, any amateur can easily complete all the 18 holes on a golf course.
The climax, like the rest of the movie, is equally powerful. Prakash Raj, the judge in charge of delivering verdict, is blown off by Jockey’s commitment to the cause and immediately resigns and disrobes himself, endorsing Jockey’s cause. He further takes a solemn oath that he wouldn’t cloth himself till the highest court of the land acquits Jockey. Thankfully, we are not exposed to the execution of the oath.
The film closes with Jockey telling a huge crowd of women how the most powerful men, He-Man, Superman and Batman, always proudly displayed their underwears. Thus the corollary, greater you show, the more powerful you grow. He emotionally appeals that we should live in such a free society where there would be no necessity for another Jockey. For once, everyone watching also agree with him.
Every department of film-making has scaled new heights in this movie. The music stands apart and even tears you apart. During the crucial scenes, Narayana Murthy (of Dandorra and Erra Sainyan fame) renders an inspiring hip-hop number in the background. To prevent piracy and reuse, all songs have been remixed with suitable phrases like “Come on Baby”, “Yes you can”, etc. The result - A nostalgic remembrance of Mayadari Maisamma at the engineering college festivals.
Krishna Vamsi, not just emulates but outbeats Shankar is all areas. In logic, he outbeats even Stephen Hawking. The clinical precision with which he burns scores of people without even a speck of soot on him is something that would keep physicists thinking for another two decades. The vividness of colors used by him in the sets of songs is forcing Bill Gates to contemplate on a 512-bit true color version for windows desktop. The graphics used to picturize burning sequences has put to shame the animators at TNT Cartoon Network.
If such is the technical strength, then can acting be behind? NTR Jr’s expression of shock and anger is something which you might have never come across - that of a eunuch deciding between which restroom to use. Illeana, in an extremely sensitive portrayal, sobs more than the guys’ drool during the songs. Charmee, with her obstinate obsession for perfection, has chosen to dub herself. The consequence is a perfect telugu in a neutral accent. Never mind her village background and never mind that the words come out at the rate of one word every 30 seconds.
