Section 420 of the Indian Penal Code deals with fraud. Naturally,
the number has entered popular slang as a term for a con artist, or more
generally for a liar. The number appears in several Bollywood film
titles; in Miss 420 (1998), for instance, it refers to the title character’s profession of “Glamorous Super Spy.” (And has nothing to do with any American connotations.)
As the movie opens, the Central Bureau of Investigations is meeting to discuss a vague threat to India’s national security. The CBI Chief (Shakti Kapoor) consults with Khan (Tinnu Anand), the only other guy on staff with a speaking part, and selects Miss 420 (Sheeba) for the assignment. After a quick musical montage to establish that yes, Miss 420 is a glamorous but highly trained special agent, she sets out on her mission and is apparently blown up before she has the chance to do anything remotely interesting.
The focus then shifts to Vicky (Baba Sehgal) and Varun (Jeet Upendra), two fun-loving college jerks. Vicky is the rich one, with a fancy car and a stupid haircut that makes him look like Dave Lister. Varun is not rich, has better hair, and will soon vanish from the movie. Like many young men, Vicky and Varun are keenly interested in the opposite sex, and they express that interest through what may be the single worst “sexual harassment song” in Bollywood history. (Presumably we’re supposed to view the boys as lovable scamps rather than potential rapists on the prowl, but the song does not help.)
While hanging out at the beach, the boys catch sight of Anamika (Sheeba again), practicing her Semi Aquatic Bikini Yoga. Vicky is instantly smitten, and sets out to woo her with a variety of hackneyed lines and lame schemes. Nothing works, until he manages to nearly get beaten up in her line of sight, at which point she falls madly in love. (Note that he is nearly beaten up; Vicky winds up with a small cut on his cheek, and Anamika is suddenly overcome with compassion, despite the fact that she set him up to be beaten in the first place. At least he doesn’t write “I love you” in his own blood.)
Anamika’s brother, Arvind (Aashif Sheikh), is a crime reporter in Goa. While covering a charity event, he becomes suspicious of wealthy businessman and philanthropist DK (Mohan Joshi). He follows DK to his lair, sneaks around, and manages to take a few pictures before being chased by Khalnayak (Mahesh Anand), DK’s leather clad henchman and personal Sanjay Dutt impersonator. Arvind manages to hide the film before apparently falling to his death.
Anamika travels to Goa to visit her brother, and Vicky follows her. She’s dismayed to find that her brother is missing, vows to find him, and then spends most of her time at the hotel hanging out with Vicky and local taxi driver Tony Fernandes (Johny Lever). Tony is a completely typical Johny Lever comic relief character, with nothing in particular to recommend him; this makes him easily the most likable character in the movie.
Finally, mercifully, Anamika is contacted by Khan. (Remember him, from the plot that sounded interesting?) Khan assumes that Anamika is really Miss 420, and has her arrested when she refuses to admit it. Even after fingerprinting proves that she’s not really the missing spy, he still puts her to work investigating DK, because . . . well, I don’t know why. But it does give her the chance to find her missing brother, who isn’t really dead. Instead, he’s an amnesiac prisoner in DK’s lair, where the bad guys continually try to brainwash him into remembering where he hid the film.
It all sounds much more interesting than it actually is. DK, for instance, is an underwhelming villain. I can forgive him not being played by Amrish Puri, but his secret lair is a big house. He has no catch phrase, no acid pool, no pet crocodile, and no real plan. He’s just an old guy with a mullet who does evil things for money. The movie continually threatens to become interesting, but never follows through. Instead it cuts to another romantic interlude between two characters that I actively dislike. Fortunately, near the end, the costume designer goes insane and we’re treated to a dance number involving color-coordinated dayglo Vikings and then, finally, a big flashy fight scene, but it’s too little, too late.
Long time Gorilla’s Lament readers will know that my standards really aren’t that high. I’m fine with a movie like Miss 420 being bad, as long as it’s also awesome. This movie never delivers on the promised awesome. It’s a fraud.
As the movie opens, the Central Bureau of Investigations is meeting to discuss a vague threat to India’s national security. The CBI Chief (Shakti Kapoor) consults with Khan (Tinnu Anand), the only other guy on staff with a speaking part, and selects Miss 420 (Sheeba) for the assignment. After a quick musical montage to establish that yes, Miss 420 is a glamorous but highly trained special agent, she sets out on her mission and is apparently blown up before she has the chance to do anything remotely interesting.
The focus then shifts to Vicky (Baba Sehgal) and Varun (Jeet Upendra), two fun-loving college jerks. Vicky is the rich one, with a fancy car and a stupid haircut that makes him look like Dave Lister. Varun is not rich, has better hair, and will soon vanish from the movie. Like many young men, Vicky and Varun are keenly interested in the opposite sex, and they express that interest through what may be the single worst “sexual harassment song” in Bollywood history. (Presumably we’re supposed to view the boys as lovable scamps rather than potential rapists on the prowl, but the song does not help.)
While hanging out at the beach, the boys catch sight of Anamika (Sheeba again), practicing her Semi Aquatic Bikini Yoga. Vicky is instantly smitten, and sets out to woo her with a variety of hackneyed lines and lame schemes. Nothing works, until he manages to nearly get beaten up in her line of sight, at which point she falls madly in love. (Note that he is nearly beaten up; Vicky winds up with a small cut on his cheek, and Anamika is suddenly overcome with compassion, despite the fact that she set him up to be beaten in the first place. At least he doesn’t write “I love you” in his own blood.)
Anamika’s brother, Arvind (Aashif Sheikh), is a crime reporter in Goa. While covering a charity event, he becomes suspicious of wealthy businessman and philanthropist DK (Mohan Joshi). He follows DK to his lair, sneaks around, and manages to take a few pictures before being chased by Khalnayak (Mahesh Anand), DK’s leather clad henchman and personal Sanjay Dutt impersonator. Arvind manages to hide the film before apparently falling to his death.
Anamika travels to Goa to visit her brother, and Vicky follows her. She’s dismayed to find that her brother is missing, vows to find him, and then spends most of her time at the hotel hanging out with Vicky and local taxi driver Tony Fernandes (Johny Lever). Tony is a completely typical Johny Lever comic relief character, with nothing in particular to recommend him; this makes him easily the most likable character in the movie.
Finally, mercifully, Anamika is contacted by Khan. (Remember him, from the plot that sounded interesting?) Khan assumes that Anamika is really Miss 420, and has her arrested when she refuses to admit it. Even after fingerprinting proves that she’s not really the missing spy, he still puts her to work investigating DK, because . . . well, I don’t know why. But it does give her the chance to find her missing brother, who isn’t really dead. Instead, he’s an amnesiac prisoner in DK’s lair, where the bad guys continually try to brainwash him into remembering where he hid the film.
It all sounds much more interesting than it actually is. DK, for instance, is an underwhelming villain. I can forgive him not being played by Amrish Puri, but his secret lair is a big house. He has no catch phrase, no acid pool, no pet crocodile, and no real plan. He’s just an old guy with a mullet who does evil things for money. The movie continually threatens to become interesting, but never follows through. Instead it cuts to another romantic interlude between two characters that I actively dislike. Fortunately, near the end, the costume designer goes insane and we’re treated to a dance number involving color-coordinated dayglo Vikings and then, finally, a big flashy fight scene, but it’s too little, too late.
Long time Gorilla’s Lament readers will know that my standards really aren’t that high. I’m fine with a movie like Miss 420 being bad, as long as it’s also awesome. This movie never delivers on the promised awesome. It’s a fraud.
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