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Reviews4
enigmatic_quasar1729's rating
I'm sorry, but since when is this kind of tripe called cinema? Whatever happened to the serious evocation of issues, the gut wrenching drama and the passion for storytelling? Hell, where is the "nice" time I'm promised in return for the money I pay for my ticket?
Another week goes by and I'm forced to accept that another movie has once again dug beneath the bottom of the barrel. And this time, it's BBudha Hoga Tera Baap. The double B helps with the numerology, apparently.
I still don't know what the genre of this movie is. I don't know how much Mr. Bacchan was paid to star in this. Or what he was doing in there except gracefully accepting this "tribute" to his 70 years of PURE AWESOME.
The "heroine" does nothing but look pretty. I think she had a total of 20 lines in the whole movie. Sonu Sood is Mr. "can't keep it in his pants" Chunky reincarnate of Inspector Vijay of yore. Delivers beautifully ham fisted lines. Raveena Tandon should've stopped gracing the screen when the flab got a little too much to get her into item numbers.
There's no story or screenplay to speak of. The "twist" in the movie makes you go "It's BRILLIANT that they would they hire a writer on drugs." The punchlines are off by miles. You could drive a car through some plot holes. I still don't know where Banksy is. I could go on but that worries me somewhat.
All in all, to like this movie, you need to be a rabid, frothing-at- the-mouth Amitabh fan, OR a career front bencher who's in the hall for the AC.
2 out of 10. 1 because the AC was working.
Another week goes by and I'm forced to accept that another movie has once again dug beneath the bottom of the barrel. And this time, it's BBudha Hoga Tera Baap. The double B helps with the numerology, apparently.
I still don't know what the genre of this movie is. I don't know how much Mr. Bacchan was paid to star in this. Or what he was doing in there except gracefully accepting this "tribute" to his 70 years of PURE AWESOME.
The "heroine" does nothing but look pretty. I think she had a total of 20 lines in the whole movie. Sonu Sood is Mr. "can't keep it in his pants" Chunky reincarnate of Inspector Vijay of yore. Delivers beautifully ham fisted lines. Raveena Tandon should've stopped gracing the screen when the flab got a little too much to get her into item numbers.
There's no story or screenplay to speak of. The "twist" in the movie makes you go "It's BRILLIANT that they would they hire a writer on drugs." The punchlines are off by miles. You could drive a car through some plot holes. I still don't know where Banksy is. I could go on but that worries me somewhat.
All in all, to like this movie, you need to be a rabid, frothing-at- the-mouth Amitabh fan, OR a career front bencher who's in the hall for the AC.
2 out of 10. 1 because the AC was working.
Another week goes by and again I convince myself that it's safe to go and watch a movie again. Of course, I end up with the more than familiar by now "what the HELL was I thinking?"
YPD is what you'd expect out of a movie made in the early 80s. Paper thin plot devices, acting like you'd see in a 5th class school play and actors who themselves should've stayed in the 80s themselves.
Acting wise, Dharam Pajee HAD a legacy. Now he's a caricature. Forced jokes. Stuff that was maybe funny when DD was all that was on air and no idea that slapstick isn't as funny with an audience above the average age of 13. By the time you realize that the "Dhai kilo ka haath" SMS is no longer funny, you're done with what little contribution Sunny Deol makes to the film. Bobby Deol should. be. whipped. with. a. hunter and given career counselling. Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty, but since when was that ever enough? She might want to take the exit and separate route from this kind of film-making before all she's reduced to is doing the occasional item song.
Plot and cinematography wise, this is juvenile at best. You can almost imagine a "MAN I'M SO HIGH ON COCAINE! LET'S MAKE A MOVIE TODAY" scene in the scriptwriter's head. You can see the ending coming a parsec away. You can predict plot twists. You don't even have to out of your diapers yet to do that. And then there's the racist stereotype of the Punjabi household. Where everyone's drunk, loud and wears a sherwani to the farm. We get it. Punjab. Rajma, Alcohol. Blech.
Overall, this is an exercise in how to fall for your own hype and retain no semblance of respect in either your audience or your peers. This is 2011, you know. One would hope filmmakers make that realization sometime in the near future.
2 out of 10. 1 of that because Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty. And I'm still unfollowing her on twitter.
YPD is what you'd expect out of a movie made in the early 80s. Paper thin plot devices, acting like you'd see in a 5th class school play and actors who themselves should've stayed in the 80s themselves.
Acting wise, Dharam Pajee HAD a legacy. Now he's a caricature. Forced jokes. Stuff that was maybe funny when DD was all that was on air and no idea that slapstick isn't as funny with an audience above the average age of 13. By the time you realize that the "Dhai kilo ka haath" SMS is no longer funny, you're done with what little contribution Sunny Deol makes to the film. Bobby Deol should. be. whipped. with. a. hunter and given career counselling. Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty, but since when was that ever enough? She might want to take the exit and separate route from this kind of film-making before all she's reduced to is doing the occasional item song.
Plot and cinematography wise, this is juvenile at best. You can almost imagine a "MAN I'M SO HIGH ON COCAINE! LET'S MAKE A MOVIE TODAY" scene in the scriptwriter's head. You can see the ending coming a parsec away. You can predict plot twists. You don't even have to out of your diapers yet to do that. And then there's the racist stereotype of the Punjabi household. Where everyone's drunk, loud and wears a sherwani to the farm. We get it. Punjab. Rajma, Alcohol. Blech.
Overall, this is an exercise in how to fall for your own hype and retain no semblance of respect in either your audience or your peers. This is 2011, you know. One would hope filmmakers make that realization sometime in the near future.
2 out of 10. 1 of that because Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty. And I'm still unfollowing her on twitter.
Week after week I push myself into believing that the next movie I watch will not make me want to impale myself on toothpicks. It takes hours of psychiatric therapy and experimental pharmaceuticals... but somehow I manage to do it.
And then something like "Aisha" happens. WHY God, WHY?
Let's get the facts straight. Sonam Kapoor can't act. She can be subtly (and overtly) bitchy. She can smile the crap out of 35mm cinemascope print. But she can't act. And when you have drunk tweens for a supporting cast who can't decide if they'll do more justice to this country's 220 million poor and hungry wearing Gucci or Versace, well... Abhay Deol (wasted) and Cyrus Sahukar (relief) are there. And they seem to be fighting. But it seems like a lost cause.
I also remember the good old days when you needed a story to make a movie. Clearly the good director has transcended that particular limitation. I guess the idea these days is to base it on a well known half remembered piece of literature and hope for the best. Snob value should take care of the rest.
Pretty clothes and expensive handbags do not a good movie make. Do yourself a favor and buy the toothpicks instead.
2 out of 10. 1 because I'm shallow and don't care for substance.
And then something like "Aisha" happens. WHY God, WHY?
Let's get the facts straight. Sonam Kapoor can't act. She can be subtly (and overtly) bitchy. She can smile the crap out of 35mm cinemascope print. But she can't act. And when you have drunk tweens for a supporting cast who can't decide if they'll do more justice to this country's 220 million poor and hungry wearing Gucci or Versace, well... Abhay Deol (wasted) and Cyrus Sahukar (relief) are there. And they seem to be fighting. But it seems like a lost cause.
I also remember the good old days when you needed a story to make a movie. Clearly the good director has transcended that particular limitation. I guess the idea these days is to base it on a well known half remembered piece of literature and hope for the best. Snob value should take care of the rest.
Pretty clothes and expensive handbags do not a good movie make. Do yourself a favor and buy the toothpicks instead.
2 out of 10. 1 because I'm shallow and don't care for substance.