FARAH KHAN’S masalafest begins by recreating the shooting of the superb “Om Shanti Om” song sequencefrom Subhash Ghai’s Karz: old footage of Rishi Kapoor dancing on the giant gramophone record is editedtogether with fresh footage of junior artiste Om Prakash Makhija (Shah Rukh Khan) whistling, applauding and daydreaming from the sidelines. It’s a pitch-perfect opening for what has been touted as an affectionate tribute to and parody of 1970s Bollywood. But what the pre-publicity didn’t tell us was that OSO is equally a tribute to/parody of the present-day film industry.

And who better to headline such a project than that industry’s biggest star? This movie is simultaneously a massive ego project for Shah Rukh — one that will prove he can make just about anything work at the box-office — and an opportunity for him to send up the Bollywood he lords over, even making digs at the kind of roles that made him what he is. Unfortunately Om Shanti Om also tries to be a regular film with a story of its own, and this is where it falls apart.

The Karz-inspired plot — as if it matters — has Om Prakash falling in love with superstar Shantipriya (Deepika Padukone), witnessing her murder and getting killed himself. Reincarnated thirty years later, Om is Om Kapoor, reigning superstar. He wins Filmfare Awards with monotonous regularity but everyone in the industry still loves him; all the big names gather and dance at a party in his honour.(Hell, he could be SRK for all you know — except for the six-pack abs, which are possibly a dig at other leading men in the industry. And except that Om is a privileged star-son, which is possibly also a dig at other leading men in the industry.)

However, even a parody must find a way to fill three hours, and so Om starts recalling his past life, whereupon the film promptly forgets its own pre-interval breeziness and starts taking its non-plot seriously. None of this is done with conviction and the second half is leaden, forced and goes on forever. The only good thing about the dramatic scenes involving the murder-reincarnation is that they allow Padukone to show her acting chops, which are impressive for a newcomer.

Despite personal reservations, I know that a review of this film as a “should you or shouldn’t you watch it” index is meaningless, for OSO has a readymade audience: Shah Rukh Khan’s pre-release claim that this Diwali would be his was more a matter-of-fact statement than a pompous one. If you’ve never personally connected with his screen persona, it’s easy to be contemptuous of his success, to dismiss him as a ham with the same set of mannerisms recycled film after film. But his personality, complete with those mannerisms, has struck a chord with millions and there’s no underestimating the strength of such star-audience synergy — it’s as old as cinema itself. In films like Swades and Chak De India, SRK has shown (as if for the record) that he can “act” (in the more rigorously defined sense of the word) when he wants to. But that’s not what he’s interested in. In OSO he does what he does best: playing to the masses and chewing up the scenery with his facial contortions. There’s little doubt the film will do well.

But I hope this film is the last of its kind for some time. The Hindi film industry is often a self-indulgent, incestuous mess (everyone — except for Aamir Khan — is part of one big happy family that squabbles and makes up with equal felicity; everyone makes friendly appearances in everyone else’s films and on TV shows; even movie titles are derived from songs in earlier films). Om Shanti Om spoofs all this reasonably well (while simultaneously being part of it), but the self-referencinghas reached a saturation point. So here’s a radical suggestion for Farah and SRK: how about a film that doesn’t have a single nudge-nudge-winkwink reference to another film? Shah Rukh’s star power might even pull off such a crazy idea!