REVIEW 116: NA JAANE KABSE

Release date:	November 18, 2011
Director:	Pammi Somal
Cast:	Garry Gill, Amrita Prakash, Sharat Saxena, Lillette Dubey, Ayub Khan, Gurpreet Ghuggi, Himani Shivpuri, Anju Mahendroo

In her second film Na Jaane Kabse, producer-director-writer Pammi Somal carries forward the style she established in her debut release Mummy Punjabi this year. So yes, the film has a certain polish that comes from lovely outdoor locations well shot. But the production issues on other fronts, the poorly developed script, the abundance of cliches about plain Janes and Punjabis, the leading man, the sub-standard dialogues and the veterans in the supporting cast who unabashedly over-act all add up to a film that is really tough to endure.

The story is of Karan whose bride leaves him on his wedding day. He runs off to escape her furious family who are under the impression that he is the one who ditched her, and not vice versa. On the road, he takes a lift from Anjali In Thick Glasses And An Unstylish Outfit. Since the hero repeatedly taunts her for her oily hair, I have to believe him though I couldn’t see any grease. Anyway, it turns out that Karan’s business partner is expecting him to return with a bride since the plan is to promote their new holiday resort as a place so romantic that the owner himself decided to spend his honeymoon there. The international press is waiting! Now what is a man to do?! Well of course he asks Anjali to play his pretend wife. And that’s how their relationship begins.

There’s so much about Na Jaane Kabse that made me cringe, I don’t know where to start. Okay, let’s begin at the very beginning:

• Pammi Somal really needs to rid herself of this penchant to use cue cards to introduce her characters while flashing text and thought bubbles on screen that are meant to be cute. They are decidedly not. Karan’s introductory shot is accompanied by the words “bechara complexed (sic) Karan”. For Anjali the words are, “confused but confident Anjali”. And the interval is announced with the words “Hai Rabba, problem shuru.”
• Lillette Dubey (who plays Karan’s professional associate in this film) is superbly fit and trim for her age, but I wish she would stop accepting roles where she’s projected as this older hottie. It’s become trite and it’s beginning to feel rather ageist now. Likewise, why oh why did Himani Shivpuri debase herself by playing a cheesy middle-aged seductress?
• Since a large number of Hindi film makers are Punjabis, we’ve been well acquainted with Punjabi culture over the years via Bollywood. But that doesn’t mean the stereotype of the loud, brash, crude Punjabi can’t be grating when over-done and over-used. A boisterous character introducing himself to strangers as “Balwant Singh from Punjab” made me squirm in my seat.
• Seriously, there’s nothing more uncool than a person trying to be cool. At one point a character uses the acronym BKBBG to signify “bartender ki biwi bhaag gayee”. Uff!
• And could we please rise above schoolboy humour and toilet jokes? I mean, there’s nothing funny about Anjali’s dad getting loosies!!! Grow up!

I could go on and on. Characters randomly walk in and out of this film. I think I even detected a guest appearance by Ayesha Jhulka, though I don’t know if it can be called that since the actress suddenly appears, vigorously dances to a song, and then just as suddenly disappears from the scene. Most of all I’m keen to share with you a very serious worry. When Na Jaane Kabse ends, the screen screams these words at us: This is just the beginning. Does this mean there will be a Na Jaane Kabse 2? Hai Rabba, problem shuru!

Rating (out of five): 1/4 (a quarter star for the camerawork at beautiful locations in Ladakh & Punjab)

CBFC Rating:                       U

Language:                             Hindi

Photograph courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/NaJaaneKabse

REVIEW 115: BAS EK TAMANNA

Release date:	September 2, 2011
Director:	Rahul B. Kapoor
Cast:	Reema Lagoo, Samir Aftab, Rituparna Sengupta, Gauri Karnik, S.M. Zaheer, Anjana Mumtaz, Vrijesh Hirjee, Master Laeeque

This is one of the tackiest celluloid takes on the Muslim community that I’ve seen in a while. And the fault does not lie with the film’s questionable production values alone. The basic issue is in the senseless storyline with its confused characterisation that makes Bas Ek Tamanna both silly and boring.

Since the entire story is detailed on the website (and by that I do mean the ENTIRE story apart from the final scene), I can tell you a lot without worrying about spoilers. Faraaz (Samir Aftab) earns a meager income as a tourist guide in Lucknow. His mother Najma (Reema Lagoo) uses her traditional embroidery skills to support the family while her wheelchair-bound husband worries about the boy’s future. Faraaz is in love with local girl Sanah (Gauri Karnik) who is a teacher. One day, a rich NRI called Sameera (Rituparna Sengupta) spots Faraaz and asks him to show her around his city. Something about this conscientious boy appeals to her and she offers him a job with her in Dubai. Faraaz gets engaged to Sanah before leaving town. His assignment is revealed to the audience when Sameera takes him to a Dubai hospital to meet a child who is shown strangling dolls as a pastime. We discover that this is her son Ahmed (Master Laeeque) who is suffering from bipolar disorder which, the doctor explains, has been brought on by the trauma of losing a parent. Sameera is a successful businesswoman, but money can’t buy her only child’s health. Or can it? She offers Faraaz a lucrative contract to stay in her house posing as Ahmed’s father to bring the child back to normal.

And so the story goes on. This film could have been something special but it’s hard to take it seriously when it’s so burdened with glaring loopholes, ham-handed dialogue writing, jerky editing in places, an uninspiring hero and pathetic acting by some of the supporting cast. We’ve all seen bad actors in our time but the man who plays the principal of Sanah’s school takes the cake, the bakery and the entire wheat field with it! Besides, there’s the completely inexplicable characterisation of the leading man. Faraaz is portrayed as a sensible, responsible boy, and yet once he gets to Dubai he simply cuts himself off from his family and fiancée. No reason whatsoever is given for his behaviour. If he didn’t want to reveal to his family the nature of the job he’d taken up with Sameera, he needn’t have told them, but why did he stop phoning them or taking their calls? The fuzziness of Faraaz’s character can be attributed to both bad writing and Samir Aftab’s average acting.

Reema Lagoo lends earnestness to the character of Najma Aapa, but what is an actress to do in such a mediocre film? As if there are not enough irritants in Bas Ek Tamanna, Vrijesh Hirjee as a fellow called Chulbul is thrown into the mix to provide that element that was as much of a staple in the old days as item numbers have become today: he is meant to provide ‘comic relief’ I guess, but the interludes involving him are irritating to say the least.

So where is all this headed? Well, it all comes down to a clumsy conversation towards the end about how the world has misunderstood the practice of multiple marriages among Muslim men. Oh how the awkwardness of the writing at this point made me cringe! No doubt director Rahul Kapoor and writer Ali Hashmat Siddique meant well. But subtlety in such matters can be achieved only when you get past the feeling of a “them” and “us”.

Let me clarify that Bas Ek Tamanna is too ineptly handled to be offensive. It’s no wonder that my only takeaway from this disappointing film is that Reema Lagoo has very pretty hands!

Rating (out of five): *

CBFC Rating:                       U

Language:                              Hindi

Photograph courtesy: http://www.basektamanna.com/  

REVIEW 114: RIVAAZ

Release date:	September 16, 2011
Director:	Ashok Kumar Nanda
Cast:	Ritisha Vijayvargiya, Manoj Biddvai, Deepti Naval, Vijay Raaz, Meghna Naidu, Shadika Randhawa, Alok Nath, Rajendra Gupta, Sayajee Shinde

Do you think makeup and costumes are “merely” glamorous departments that contribute the least to a film’s depth and impact? Watch Rivaaz to know how wrong you are. This film about a village in North India that sells its daughters for a living makes a strange first impression with the styling of its female cast: at all times of day and night, all the young girls sport lehnga cholis that seem like they’ve been purchased from an upmarket boutique, impeccably done makeup, perfectly plucked eyebrows and hairstyles that seem like they’ve sprung from the scissors of Ambika Pillai or Jawed Habib. All except one girl who is known throughout the village for being bereft of beauty. And how does lack of looks in a woman get portrayed in a Hindi film? Arrey, you don’t know?! Simple! All you do is pick a dark-skinned actress, baba!!!

 So right at the start, minus points to the film’s costumes-in-charge Sangeet Gaikar and to Sachin Bhonsle who is credited for the makeup. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that girls in Indian villages don’t ever dress to the nines – after all, I’ve got cousins in the Kerala countryside who could teach Dilliwaali me a thing or two about fashion! All I’m saying is that no woman can be so perfectly done up 24x7, that some work can only come from high-priced urban salons, and if you position yourself as a realistic film then you’d damned well get it right in every department.

You may assume then that this is one of those films illustrating the point that good intentions don’t necessarily translate into good films. In the case of Rivaaz though, I’m slightly confused about the film maker’s intentions in the first place. The film’s hero Rahul (Manoj Biddvai) sees Bela (Ritisha Vijayvargiya) in the very first scene and is in love. Not attracted, not smitten, not infatuated, people! He’s in lowwe! I can swallow love at first sight in a romantic comedy but somehow his puppy dog willingness to risk life and limb for this girl who means nothing more than a pretty face to him is irritating, their romance is downright silly and this is one of the many ways the film seems to trivialize the issue at hand.

That issue being the practice of living off the bodies of their daughters that is the custom in this unnamed village in north India. I’m told this village is a reality, not a figment of director and co-writer Ashok Kumar Nanda’s imagination. This film then should have shocked me out of my wits, but it made me laugh in places instead. The lack of sincerity shines through from start to finish but is never more evident than during the mandatory item number. Yes, Sambhavna Seth makes an appearance surrounded by salivating men, jiggling her booty to a song that goes: “Agre ka ghagra, Dilli ki chunari / Jaipur ki choli pehenke jo nikli / Saara hiley hai / Saara hiley hai UP-Bihar / Laalu maange hai chumma udhaar.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FTewSg2I-H0&feature=related

Pulling Rivaaz down further is the inconsistent acting. Veteran Deepti Naval as Bela’s mother and Reema Lagoo as the virgin-hungry Thakur’s wife do their best to lend some credibility to the proceedings as does Meghna Naidu who plays the most ordinary looking girl in the village. But the lead pair don’t have the depth to extract any sympathy from the audience. And Shadika Randhawa who plays the lowwe interest of the village pimp has more makeup on her face than expressions! The dialogue writing is amateurish and the speechifying at the end is beyond endurance.

This is a story that needed to be told. But telling it this way is worse than not telling it at all.

Rating (out of five): 0 stars

Language:                              Hindi

Photograph taken from the cover of the film’s brochure

Laalu maange hai chumma udhaar video courtesy: Youtube 

REVIEW 113: YEH DOORIYAN

Release date:	August 26, 2011
Director:	Deepshikha Nagpal
Cast:	Deepshikha Nagpal, Kaishav Arora, Kunika, Ayub Khan

“Love after divorce … Is it a crime?” I can’t remember the last Hindi film that asked such a question. Yeh Dooriyan has another query up its sleeve: Is it a crime for a woman to fall in love with a younger man? The film is about 35-year-old Simmi, a successful choreographer and dance academy owner who is a divorced mother of two children. Her parents and friends encourage her to find a man in her life. Then one day she meets a young model called Raj who pursues her relentlessly. He comes across as a clean-hearted guy and (perhaps the greatest qualification in Simmi’s eyes) appears to like children. The couple fall in love. But will a society that is open to older-man-younger-woman romances accept this relationship … considering that Simmi is not just older than Raj, she’s also a divorcee? More to the point: how will his family react?

The basic storyline is not just believable, it’s also interesting. If you look around you, despite the seeming liberalism that pretends to pervade our world, we are still by and large an extremely conservative society with shockingly regressive views towards single women of every variety – unmarried, widowed or divorced. The questions thrown at Raj, his reaction to societal compulsions, the way the men in Simmi’s life respond to her … these are all credible and real. The problem with Yeh Dooriyan does not lie with its storyline, but elsewhere. The indifferent acting by key cast members robs the film of finesse. Kaishav Arora needs to be singled out here for lessons in an acting school with a particular focus on dialogue delivery. But the death knell for the film is rung by the poor language used by the dialogue writer, sometimes to laughable effect. There are also several songs with unmemorable tunes, unoriginal choreography and at least in one case, unintentionally amusing lyrics. And by that I mean the one that goes, “I wanna be your lover, zindagi bhar.”

Unfortunately all these factors add up to make this film a rather downmarket product. And I say “unfortunately” because Yeh Dooriyan does pose some important questions and takes a position on single women that’s uncommon in Hindi filmdom. Back in the year 2001, in Haan Maine Bhi Pyaar Kiya, the manner in which Karisma Kapoor’s character shame-facedly confesses (there’s no other word for it) her status as a divorcee in whispers to the new man in her life was a strange exaggeration of the reality. A woman in her social circle might face social opprobrium, but it would be couched in sophisticated terms and she’s unlikely to be so melodramatic while revealing the truth to friends and acquaintances. In Yeh Dooriyan a decade later, Simmi is unapologetic about her life and takes on the world with her head held high. The decision she ultimately arrives at for herself is also rather brave considering that Hindi film audiences don’t seem to be very fond of highly independent female leads. Wish the quality of writing had been more consistent.

At the press preview for this film, Deepshika was present to receive a certificate from a representative of the Limca Book of Records for having handled the maximum number of jobs for a single film: apart from starring in Yeh Dooriyan, producing and directing it, she’s also credited for the story, screenplay, dialogues and choreography. You know something, hon … you’ve got your heart and head in the right place, but next time please delegate the screenplay, dialogues and choreography to someone else.

Rating (out of five): *1/2

CBFC Rating:                       U without cuts

Running time:                        115 Minutes

Language:                              Hindi

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yeh_Dooriyan

REVIEW 112: CHITKABREY – SHADES OF GREY

Release date:	August 26, 2011
Director:	Suneet Arora
Cast:	Ravi Kissen, Rahul Singh, Bobby Vats, Akshay Singh, Puja Gupta

Sex, lies and Ravi Kissen …. that, in short, is Chitkabrey – Shades of Grey. I watched this film with my eyes popping out, wondering how it got past our over-sensitive Censor Board. Perhaps the screening committee found the film so bad that they slept through most of it. There’s no other explanation for a film coming to our theatres giving us flashes of human body parts during sex scenes I never thought to see in a Hindi film!!! It’s soft porn, I tell ya!

But if you are a kinky sort who’s about to rush off to a DVD store or to some questionable website to find Chitkabrey, let me warn you: you’ve got to be pretty desperate to sit through this F-grade film with its bizarre storyline, worse acting, unprofessional lighting, poor quality camera work, cheap costumes, crude makeup and pathetic sets. How desperate could Bhojpuri star Ravi Kissen be to make it in Bollywood, that he actually signed up for this one?!

The story, if you can call it that, is about a man who hatches a far-fetched plot to get together a whole bunch of his college mates from across the world to an isolated house under a false pretext. Once they’ve gathered, some with their spouses, thinking it’s a college reunion of some sort, a faceless voice booms out at them that they’re captive in that building. Dan te nan! After much fuss and suspense, Ravi Kissen – with heavily kohl-lined eyes – appears before them to explain that this is an act of revenge for a humiliation they had all meted out to him back in college. Dan te nan! He then splits the couples and sends one of each off to collect some money (that I suppose is compensation for emotional trauma) while keeping the other as collateral in his eerie house. Dan te nan! Te na na na!

While all this is going on, excuses are found to play us some bad songs. Apparently Chitkabrey is meant to be an anti-ragging film, but the serious theme is buried under horrendously bad writing and execution. Among the film’s endless de-merits are the couple of white people it serves us in smaller roles whose acting skills make the rest of the actors seem like super performers. The worst of the main cast has to be Bollywood’s latest foreign import Sweetlana Manolyo whose screen presence by itself adds several points to the film’s sleaze-o-meter. But there are some familiar faces in this film who surely couldn’t be thinking that this is all they deserve?! On a good day, both Ravi Kissen and Rahul Singh for instance, are capable of turning out decent performances. Just this year, Singh featured as a rowdy villager in that sweet little road movie Chalo Dilli starring Vinay Pathak and Lara Dutta. He also played Poorna Jagannathan’s angry ex in Delhi Belly. Chitkabrey gives him a much larger role of course, but it’s also a blot on his CV! Was it worth it?

Come to think of it, this is actually an educational film that should be compulsory viewing for all students of cinema. Few films can teach you better about the worst that Bollywood can be!

Did I utter the word “educational” with reference to Chitkabrey?! Yeah okay, I was just kidding! Gotcha!

Rating (out of five): -60 stars

Language:        Hindi

Photograph courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/Chitkabrey

REVIEW 111: HAWAI DADA

Release date:	September 9, 2011
Director:	Ajay Kartik
Cast:	Anupam Kher, Gargi Datar, Tanuja, Tinnu Anand

Knowing when to stop … that’s an art not enough Hindi film makers have mastered. And that’s my problem with this otherwise sweet little film about an old man in a village whose granddaughter tries to help him realise his unfulfilled dream of sitting in an aeroplane one day. Hawai Dada is what the village folk call Anupam Kher’s character whose story about how he once sat in a plane is now part of local lore as is his habit of constantly gazing up at the sky to watch planes flying past. When a new airline company advertises low promotional launch fares, Hawai Dada and the little girl make it their mission to get the old man a ticket.

Kher – who has produced this film with Satish Kaushik – is joined by veteran Tanuja doing a charming job of playing his sometimes abrasive, sometimes gentle wife. In the role of their spirited granddaughter is the talented child actor Gargi Datar who I hope you will all get to see in bigger and better marketed films in the future since this one was so poorly promoted that I watched it all alone in a hall in Delhi just the day after its release, having caused much amusement at the ticket counter since no one else had bothered with the film till I walked in.

The other pluses of Hawai Dada: the relationship between the little girl and the old man is touching. And it’s easy to get drawn into a poor man’s dream of sitting in a hawai jahaaz in this world far removed from the crowded airports and frequent flyers of big cities and towns in post-liberalisation and post-Air-Deccan India. Gargi Datar – who earlier this year had a small role in Disney’s Zokkomon with Darsheel Safary – is an absolute natural before the camera. It’s always a challenge to extract a good performance from an actor so young, allowing him/her to retain a child-like loveability without crossing the line into irritating cutesiness, and while Datar’s intrinsic talent is undeniable, director Ajay Kartik too needs to be commended for his work with her. In a year that brought us some lovely child stars, here’s another name that goes on my list that’s topped by Chinmay Kambli and Taher Sutterwala from Bheja Fry helmsman Sagar Ballary’s Kachha Limboo, Delzad Sanjay Hiwale and Sohail Lakhani from that that completely unheralded film Bubble Gum, Harsh Mayar and Husaan Saad from the film I Am Kalam, Partho and all his co-stars from Stanley ka Dabba, and the wonderful ensemble cast of Salman Khan’s production Chillar Party.

The entire supporting cast of Hawai Dada does a commendable job, but it’s particularly heart-rending to see the pain on the face of the protagonist’s postman son who can’t afford to pay for his father’s ultimate dream. There’s also something very refreshing about the way the cinematographer has captured the countryside with its raging river and numerous trees, the maidan where children play and the chai ka dukaan where old men gather for a chat. I read a report where Kher mentioned that this film was shot in a place called Tachmarhi in rural Madhya Pradesh. There you go, I just made an addition to my must-visit list!

The minuses: Some of what looked like CG used to show us planes was below par, and the scene in the end is downright tacky. I’m willing to forgive that in a film that must have been made on a low budget. But it’s harder to absolve Kartik (also Hawai Dada’s screenplay writer) for not knowing when to stop. I could understand the struggle to gather cash to pay for the ticket, I could understand the new airline’s advertisement getting lost, I could understand the difficulties these simple folk had in handling the Internet … but some of the more dramatic hurdles they faced felt contrived … and after a point it seemed like ploy after ploy after was being thought up to keep Hawai Dada away from his beloved plane, to stretch a short story to feature film length and to manipulate the audience to tears. The climax was especially forced and bothered me more than I can explain.

Despite this, the look of the film, the relationship between Hawai Dada and all his family members especially his granddaughter, and Gargi’s natural performance are worth your time.

Rating (out of five): **1/4

CBFC Rating:                       U without cuts

Running time:                        99 Minutes

Language:                              Hindi

Photograph courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Hawai-DADA/267859856568525    

REVIEW 110: NOT A LOVE STORY

Release date:	August 19, 2011
Director:	Ram Gopal Varma
Cast:	Mahie Gill, Deepak Dobriyal, Ajay Gehi, Zakir Hussain

All’s not lost. Ram Gopal Varma may yet be found. Not RGV of the Sholay remake infamy, nor he who has churned out more mediocrity in the past decade than we ever dreamt he was capable of, nor he who posts offensive comments on Twitter in what seems like a desperate bid for attention. No, the Varma that peeped through Not A Love Story is the one who gave us Shiva, Rangeela, Satya and Company. With all its flaws, Not A Love Story still had touches of that man.

The film, as you know, is “inspired” by the Neeraj Grover murder case. A quick recap of the facts. Maria Susairaj, an aspiring actress in Mumbai, gets involved with television executive Neeraj Grover who agrees to help her with her career. One morning, her boyfriend Emile Jerome Matthew arrives at her Mumbai flat and finds her with Grover. The two men get into a fight in which Matthew stabs and kills Grover. Then with the help of Susairaj, he cuts the body into several pieces and disposes of it.

Never mind Ramu’s sudden pre-release panic that led him to claim that Not A Love Story is only “inspired” by this real-life killing. The truth is that the facts of the case I’ve outlined above are the same as the basic storyline of this film. Mahie Gill plays actress Anusha Chawla who is desperate to make it in Bollywood. Her obsessive boyfriend back home, Robin Fernandes (Deepak Dobriyal) can’t understand why she won’t just give up after so many disappointments, and return to him. Anusha meets Ashish Bhatnagar (Ajay Gehi) through whom she is on the verge of getting her first break. Though there is no direct demand for sexual favours, Bhatnagar ends up in bed with her. When Robin unexpectedly lands up in the flat one morning and sees red at the sight of a naked Ashish, Anusha panics and lies that she’s been raped. What follows is mayhem, murder and a sensational cover-up.

Since the Neeraj Grover case has been widely reported in the press, I could tell you the rest of the story of this film and it would still not spoil the experience for you. Because it’s not the actual story but the way Ramu tells it that makes Not A Love Story an unexpectedly interesting film.

What I really really like about this film is its completely non-judgmental tone towards the two main players in the case, Anusha and Robin, although their prototypes Susairaj and Matthew have been crucified by sections of the Indian media and public who played judge, jury and executioner even before a judicial verdict was pronounced. Was Anusha an evil woman who deliberately framed Ashish to redeem herself in her boyfriend’s eyes? Or did she just lie without thinking in a moment of panic, the way many human beings do, causing circumstances to spiral out of control in a way she couldn’t possibly have predicted? Did Anusha sleep with Ashish because she felt sorry for him, or because she felt the pressure to please him to save her career, or out of sheer gratitude? At no point is Anusha painted as an evil scheming witch who would do anything and everything to fulfill her ambitions … though blaming a career-minded woman might have been the populist thing to do.

Equally interesting and courageous is the way Ramu has, in a sense, belled the cat without being harsh on Neeraj Grover who has been painted in popular opinion as a hapless victim of Susairaj and Matthew’s machinations, while the whiff of the casting couch in this case has been largely glossed over. Ashish from the film could not possibly have been so naïve as to not detect Anusha’s desperation for a break. But Ramu leaves it to us, the audience, to decide whether he was callously tapping into that desperation or he was also genuinely attracted to her?

The matter of factness of the narrative is the USP of Not A Love Story. It’s worthy of a special mention because Indian film makers tend to avoid making films on recent history and current events, and audiences seem averse to such efforts too. Well, if a real-life crime fresh in public memory is to be transferred to celluloid, then I guess this is the best tone to adopt.

The lead trio of Not A Love Story acquit themselves very well though Dobriyal deserves to be singled out for a nuanced performance. What does this film in though is the eccentricity that leads the director to use highly distracting and hard-to-watch camera angles and movements. At first, when his lens kept focusing on Anusha’s various body parts, I thought perhaps this was meant as a comment on the exploitative nature of the glamour industry that would be gradually revealed to us through the film. But when the focus then shifted – quite untitillatingly – sometimes to her knee, sometimes to another character’s shoulder, then it came across as mere idiosyncracy. It was not offensive or pretentious as much as ridiculously unnecessary, because elsewhere in the film Ramu actually managed to convey a sense of gloom, doom and foreboding in Anusha’s life through the same camera. The mood is further built up with the repeated playing of the title song from Rangeela, Ramu’s far more positive earlier take on the struggle to enter Bollywood.

Not A Love Story is not as graphically violent as you might expect – in fact, it’s far from being sensationalist in that respect. It was, however, hard to hold on to my concentration when I could feel a migraine coming on because of the pointlessly jerky camera. If, unlike me, you are not prone to headaches, do try to catch this unusual, experimental Hindi film that will remind you in part of the Ramu we all once loved.   

Rating (out of five): **1/2

Photograph courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Not_A_Love_Story