What Parents Should Know
Parents need to know that this family-friendly Bollywood
film does address some adult problems, including unemployment
and poverty. But it does so with a light touch that probably
won't be too distressing to kids. The movie's lessons are
simplistic but useful, and though there's some swearing,
concerns for young viewers are overridden by how much fun it
all is.
Families can talk about what makes life grand -- the things we buy or the people around us? Why do so many people get caught up in the former? What messages does the media send about materialism and "must have" products? Why does RV live only for the day? Is there value in this way of thinking? Or are Radhika's more practical, save-for-tomorrow ways better? How can you strike a happy medium? Families can also discuss Bollywood movies in general. What characteristics do most Bollywood movies share? How are they different from American movies? How do you think this movie would be different if it had been made in the United States?
Common Sense Media Review
Once in a while, it's liberating to throw all the rules out
the window. That's how it feels to watch TA RA RUM PUM,
Siddharth Anand's Bollywood confection. A feel-good film in
English and Hindi (with subtitles) that's stuffed with
extended-but-exciting car chases, lavish dance numbers,
not-so-subtle moral lessons, and a meandering plot, it's sweet
but somehow not saccharine. Even better, it's loads of fun.
Ravjeer (Saif Ali Khan) is an eternally optimistic, overly generous New York City race car tire changer who lives only for the day. When a chance encounter with a wizened cabbie named Harry (the terrific Jaaved Jafferi) -- who's actually the manager of a racing team called the Speeding Saddles -- lands Ravjeer a job as its lead driver, his first instinct is to throw a huge party, which uses up the entire $3000 advance Harry gives him. (Harry's also the one who gives him his new nickname, RV.)
But his instincts also lead him to striking, stridently practical pianist Radhika (Rani Mukerji), his polar opposite and one true love. With his beloved on one side and instant friend on the other, RV's future is bright.
Many years and victories later, RV and Radhika are living in bliss with their two kids (the adorable Angelina Idnani and Ali Haji) in a house in Manhattan (with a verdant lawn, no less, a discordant detail that makes no sense for the city, but it hardly matters). It's bought, like everything else RV has acquired, "on installment."
Everything is going so swimmingly, in fact, that one of Harry's funniest lines -- "When a dream is shattered in New York, a new cab driver is born" -- echoes ominously. Sure enough, RV winds up in an accident, and his dreams -- and dream life -- are dismantled one defaulted loan at a time.
But RV and Radhika won't let their children suffer. To minimize the chaos, they keep the kids in the same private school even as they downsize their home, moving to a large-ish studio in a funky part of town. They tell the kids it's because they're in a reality show and that hidden cameras are watching their every move. They say the show is called Don't Worry, Be Happy, with the prize going to those who take on adversity with utmost grace and a smiling face.
Will RV and Radhika manage to come up with the school fees in a month? Will the children find out? Will they land on their feet again? The answers aren't that hard to figure out. Ta Ra Rum Pum is predictable but also invigorating, like a day at a county fair eating too much junk and going on too many fast rides.
And, oddly enough, the lessons in this Indian film -- one of the best homages to the city of New York -- are supremely sensible and startlingly American: Go to college. Avoid buying on credit. Eat lunch every day. Thankfully, it unfolds in surprisingly charming ways that most American movies don't.
Fans may also enjoy Bride and Prejudice and Monsoon Wedding .
Common Sense Media is a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing information to help parents make media and entertainment choices for their families.

