Since there is no arguing with poor taste, we have to look at the characters in this unending series of ‘Golmaal’ films as something akin to comic superheroes who bring distinct and definitive associations of humour to their personalities. What is more, the audience clearly identifies with each one of the central comedians in the films for the reliability of their characterisations, and look forward to the endless replication of those personae, in a variety of newly invented situations and locations.
For example, Gopal (Ajay Devgan) is the tough nut with a cream filling, Lucky (Tusshar Kapoor) is the mute whose mime is haphazardly translated by the others, sometimes to his advantage, but most of the time to the detriment of his well being. Madhav (Arshad Warsi) is the more intelligent one, but that is just in comparison to the company of duffers he keeps. His cleverness is sly, and he is always trying to pull off a smarter solution to a problem, until it eventually backfires. What each one brings to the fruit salad, is a specific and individual flavour to the eclectic mix.
Apparently, the way to keep the series going interminably is to constantly innovate the situations. So in ‘Golmaal Again’ we abandon the sun, sex and sand of Goa, for the mountains and tea estates of Coonoor. We go back to an orphanage where the five comedians were said to have grown up. Real estate developers are now scheming to take over huge mansions in the area, and are scaring old occupants to sell their properties, with cooked up stories of ghosts and haunted houses.
At any rate, all those years ago, when our superheroes were once poor, abandoned little orphans, their librarian was a woman called Anna Mathew. Unbelievable though it may seem, the boys remember who she was and, even more incredibly, claim to have actually visited the library where she was stationed. They do not actually say that they read the books there. That would be blasphemy. But, shortly, Ms. Mathew (Tabu) appears, looking rather svelte and well toned for an ageing librarian who should have been well on her way to superannuation after so many years.
Most of the movie consists of a series of gags in which the real estate sharks and their invented and, occasionally, ‘real’ ghosts, participate with much enthusiasm. None of the jokes gets you rolling in the isles with laughter. But the sheer pace with which the volley of one liners arrive, keeps you glued to the net like a tennis player.
The problem with the film is not the absence of genuine humour, but the high decibel level at which ridiculous conversation, that passes for humour, is delivered. At the end, you stagger out of the theatre with your ears ringing.