Bollywood Film Reviews

Cash evidently believes in brevity. A Little Less Conversation, as the King sang. Except in this film, the next line is cruelly paraphrased to: A Little Bore Action.

We’re perfectly fine with senseless action movies. I put my feet up and completely grooved to Anubhav Sinha’s last effort, Dus. Sure, it’s a loopy ride, but we aren’t looking for logic if the rollercoaster’s fast enough. It’s a genre Bollywood largely overlooks, and if it doesn’t make sense, who cares? Neither does Die Hard.

So this review isn’t a tirade against plot holes or item numbers — we’re more than used to overlooking both. We’re not even going to assess the bloopers. It’s just that this time the action — which frequently flipflops into amateurish animation — leaves you distinctively sleepy. The stunts are strictly okay, at best. And that just isn’t done.

In essence, there are three diamonds, and six people — capering around fancy sounding international airports — out to get them. Fair enough. So let’s have a fun and fast little heist shooter, shall we? Um, not quite.

The film moves sluggishly, pausing and slowing down to introduce its motley crew of insignificant crooks, with names like Uncle and Doctor. Each character is mentioned, zoomed into, and turned into a rough cartoon — which looks better than the original, for sure, with bizarrely recoloured hair. So Riteish Deshmukh suddenly goes bright blonde. This happens a half dozen times as the plotless film continues to unravel.

We wait, schooled by many a heist film (or ripoff), for the set-up to end. Basically, we should meet the gang, know the heist, and have a little bit of backstory, all before the end of Act I. In Cash, the introductions bewilderingly go on and on past the interval, after which a climax is haphazardly slapped onto the film. Oops.

The debris from this disastrous film — not to be confused with a disaster film — will most affect the actors. Ajay Omkara Devgan turns into modern-day Shekhar Suman, all bicepped and unbuttoned and awfully wooden — sigh, what price an actor pays for jumping from a helicopter. Diya Mirza’s  completely wasted, as is Riteish, who’ll feel the maximum impact from this turkey. Finding a foothold as an interesting actor, this overwritten dialogue sees him falter, bad.

Conversely, Esha Deol, Zayed Khan and Suniel Shetty, of course, are lucky to be cast in anything. And Shamita Shetty actually does well in the film, keeping a straight face and showing off her abs without looking ridiculous.

And a big grouse: the prettiest member of the crew is conspicuously absent from the opening credits; and the most talented actors in the film — a maitre’d, an airplane passenger — are kept away from the promos. Reprioritise, dude.

Is the film a rip-off? It’s hard to imagine, considering there really isn’t the remotest stab at a cohesive story. And while that was the case with Dhoom: 2, the wow-factor was slick enough. Here we stifle a yawn.

There is the occasional smart moment — radio controlled airplanes, a man with a ‘blurry’ face — but the scenes are stretched out, made overlong. In an attempt to milk a scene’s potential, the film constantly overstays its welcome.

Cash could have been a ride — if only they paid half as much attention to the script as they did to the title song.

Rating:

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Cash evidently believes in brevity. A Little Less Conversation, as the King sang. Except in this film, the next line is cruelly paraphrased to: A Little Bore Action.

We’re perfectly fine with senseless action movies. I put my feet up and completely grooved to Anubhav Sinha’s last effort, Dus. Sure, it’s a loopy ride, but we aren’t looking for logic if the rollercoaster’s fast enough. It’s a genre Bollywood largely overlooks, and if it doesn’t make sense, who cares? Neither does Die Hard.

So this review isn’t a tirade against plot holes or item numbers — we’re more than used to overlooking both. We’re not even going to assess the bloopers. It’s just that this time the action — which frequently flipflops into amateurish animation — leaves you distinctively sleepy. The stunts are strictly okay, at best. And that just isn’t done.

In essence, there are three diamonds, and six people — capering around fancy sounding international airports — out to get them. Fair enough. So let’s have a fun and fast little heist shooter, shall we? Um, not quite.

The film moves sluggishly, pausing and slowing down to introduce its motley crew of insignificant crooks, with names like Uncle and Doctor. Each character is mentioned, zoomed into, and turned into a rough cartoon — which looks better than the original, for sure, with bizarrely recoloured hair. So Riteish Deshmukh suddenly goes bright blonde. This happens a half dozen times as the plotless film continues to unravel.

We wait, schooled by many a heist film (or ripoff), for the set-up to end. Basically, we should meet the gang, know the heist, and have a little bit of backstory, all before the end of Act I. In Cash, the introductions bewilderingly go on and on past the interval, after which a climax is haphazardly slapped onto the film. Oops.

The debris from this disastrous film — not to be confused with a disaster film — will most affect the actors. Ajay Omkara Devgan turns into modern-day Shekhar Suman, all bicepped and unbuttoned and awfully wooden — sigh, what price an actor pays for jumping from a helicopter. Diya Mirza’s  completely wasted, as is Riteish, who’ll feel the maximum impact from this turkey. Finding a foothold as an interesting actor, this overwritten dialogue sees him falter, bad.

Conversely, Esha Deol, Zayed Khan and Suniel Shetty, of course, are lucky to be cast in anything. And Shamita Shetty actually does well in the film, keeping a straight face and showing off her abs without looking ridiculous.

And a big grouse: the prettiest member of the crew is conspicuously absent from the opening credits; and the most talented actors in the film — a maitre’d, an airplane passenger — are kept away from the promos. Reprioritise, dude.

Is the film a rip-off? It’s hard to imagine, considering there really isn’t the remotest stab at a cohesive story. And while that was the case with Dhoom: 2, the wow-factor was slick enough. Here we stifle a yawn.

There is the occasional smart moment — radio controlled airplanes, a man with a ‘blurry’ face — but the scenes are stretched out, made overlong. In an attempt to milk a scene’s potential, the film constantly overstays its welcome.

Cash could have been a ride — if only they paid half as much attention to the script as they did to the title song.

Rating:

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Movie Rating:

The inspiring life of Mahatma Gandhi is contrasted with that of his troubled son in this biographical drama

Darth Vader, Margaret Thatcher and Bryan Ferry - all three are very public sufferers of embarrassing offspring syndrome. As any number of glossy gossip magazines show us, it can be hell living in the shadow of a famous parent, though were Mahatma Gandhi around today it’s tough to imagine him making too many ‘Heat’ magazine covers as he launches his new cellulite-busting dance video

THE TITLE ‘Mahatma’ to Mohan Das Karamchand Gandhi was bestowed on to him by none other then the great Noble laureate Rabindranath Tagore. He is also called the ‘Father of the Nation’, again a title conferred on him by Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose and recently the United Nations has also declared his birthday, the 2nd of October to be observed as International Day of Non-violence.

Mahatma Gandhi has been revered like God in India. Believed to be an ardent follower of secularism, how many of us are aware about the fact that Gandhi had disowned his eldest son Hiralal Gandhi.

Gandhi, My Father tells the great man’s story largely through the eyes of his wayward son, Harilal (Khanna). Kicking off at a Bombay hospital with a heavily bearded Harilal in a ropey old state, much of the would-be epic is relayed through flashback, starting with Gandhi Sr (Jariwala) voicing grave misgivings about Harilal’s marriage to Gulab (Chawla) while his own wife, Kasturba (Shah), grumpily works a string-controlled watering can-based shower over her spouse’s head in the film’s only attempt at humour.
Mohandas K Gandhi is soon at work as a lawyer in South Africa, where he requests his son’s presence. In no time the duo are up to all manner of non-violent, anti-oppression antics. And here is where the rot sets in between father and son, with the Mahatma telling his son to forget dreams of studying law in England and instead voluntarily trot off to prison in the name of the greater good.
Understandably Harilal’s none too impressed with this idea and spends the remainder of his life flitting between shady business deals, many of them trading on his father’s name, converting to various religions, possibly in an effort to annoy dad, and hitting the bottle.

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