Subhash K Jha revisits Milan Luthria’s slice of life with a touch of cricket movie, Hat Trick as it completes 18 years.
Hat Trick has been wrongly projected as a cricket film. The truth is that it’s as much about cricket as about hats. But honestly, hats off to producer UTV, director Milan Luthria, and writer Rajat Aroraa for displaying such an enormously enterprising spirit. Unlike some other films that push the envelope, Hat Trick doesn’t get self-indulgently, didactic, or ham-handed. The narrative, segregated into three nimble and endearing slices of life, never fails to entertain.
Hat Trick doesn’t flounder even once in telling its story of lives that barely crisscross and yet come together in celebrating life at its most elemental level. The homilies spill out from Rajat Aroraa’s energetic words, which often say a lot more than they seem to.
The film has three stories interwoven into it. The first is about a Gujarati janitor in London, played flawlessly by Paresh Rawal, and his journey from ignorant racism to poignant patriotism. The next story, about a growing bond between a surly doctor (Nana Patekar) and a veteran cricketer (Danny Denzongpa), is very ‘Munnabhai’ in content. It nevertheless leaves a lasting impression, thanks to the vividly written words about the connection between life and laughter. The third story is about a Sikh cricket fan (Kunal Kapoor) and his newly wedded wife’s sudden obsession for cricketer Mahendra Singh Dhoni. It is wacky, filled with humour and spinning sensuousness. Watch Kunal, with his adrenaline-charged performance, take this segment to the heights of hilarity. There have been a number of episodic films in the past, but none so audacious, enchanting, and poignant.
