FilmyReviews

There is much craft on display, and some lovely moments, but the immense promise shown by the first half turns out as hollow as a politician's. Soaked in sloppy sexism, the second half has the heroine repeatedly tortured -- cheated, slapped, bound, gagged, shot at and abused -- and yet the film decrees that she forgive. In the heartlands the film is set in, maafi is an all-absolving concept, an irretractable token of instant forgiveness, like a church confessional. Ishaqzaade, despite its artistry, deserves no pardon.

Cinegoers have always been happy and willing to suspend their disbelief before entering theatres. And many great filmmakers thrive on this trait. But Dangerous Ishhq demands a suspension of not just disbelief but of all our thinking powers and even that does not make us take this incredible farce spread across five hundred years in our stride. So here's a plea to all filmmakers -- regressive or progressive -- for the sake of Indian cinema and its viewers, Mirabai and Dr Brian Weiss should be kept as far away from each other as possible.

Sajid Khan's Housefull 2, a grotesque film that seems to have been put together by a particularly sadistic ten-year-old. The fact that a film like this gets a budget and a release is befuddling and alarming, with several of the 'actors' involved vying fiercely for the Worst Of The Lot award. Housefull 2 is shamefully bad. So bad that Ranjeet - the rapey villain of yore - who appears in one scene, is the most dignified thing about the film.

It won't be a happily after ever at the box office because Jodi Breakers, a film that had a lot of potential, is seriously flawed. There could have been comedy, there could have been romance, there could have been moments that make you go Awwww! Instead, the dialogues are juvenile, the situations are oft-seen (how many times have we seen a lusty love guru eye-balling a woman's curves!), the supporting cast fails to, well, support and lead pair share no chemistry.

It's a slow screenplay where the director hopes to convey the couple's despair with their inability to come together. For a scenario like this, performances must be superlative to engage the viewer. Each glance, every gesture must speak for itself. It is here itself that EK Deewana Tha fails to deliver.

EMAET is neither on the epic side like Dharma Productions' great, grand ancestors nor weighed down by an overload of pop culture references of those that define the genre. Instead the confection's appeal lies in its underplayed wit, quirky within plausibility protagonists and a refreshing disregard for conventional conclusions. Almost like a big studio flick with an indie mindset. Almost.

The dialogues are often sarcastic (extracting a confession in the stolen fan case, the constable tells Bharat and his father, "Chor pe hamein poora bharosa hai ki woh jhooth nahin bolega"), suggesting that Jafry intends this film to be a caustic satire on the lines of the sitcom Office Office. Akshaye and the other characters play it straight and make a sincere effort. And though comedy should ideally be born out of their pitiable situations, it is born out of their inability to find such situations.

It is Rishi Kapoor's wily turn as Rauf Lala, representing the collective villainy of Terelin, Usman and Shetty, that is the greatest revelation of this piece. He has done some awe-inspiring work in the last couple of years (Luck By Chance, Chintuji, Do Dooni Chaar) but nothing tears down his sweater-clad lover boy reflection like Agneepath. To me, that's exactly how Agneepath works, less of a remake, more of a tribute. They should have just called it Dharmapath.

Don 2 is beautifully shot, well lit and has a very clean look, whether on the streets of Berlin or inside the studio, thanks to Akhtar's terrific cinematographer Jason West. But then, as with many good intentioned, and technically well crafted Bollywood films, Don 2, fails in the key test. Akhtar is definitely one of the smartest filmmakers in Bollywood, but this time he presents us a story, plot and script that is dull, almost boring. When we are not seeing Khan's swagger, or hearing the hip upbeat background score by Shankar Ehsaan Loy, Don 2 starts to lose steam.

Don 2, Akhtar's latest, is a glossy, unashamed action offering polished within an inch of itself, visually coming together seamlessly and effectively. It's evident in the very first few minutes that Khan is going to chew scenery like a particularly ravenous goat, but he does it with flair and it's hard not to be seduced by the perfectly manicured film Akhtar builds around his star. It is as the film goes on that it becomes painfully clear that while the film gives us a memorable villain, there is nothing that stands in his way.

But while Faisal delivers a few good lines, he isn't to blame for Devika Bhagat's sluggish script. A very predictable con-versus-con film can be made enjoyable, but it needs to be breezy and engaging. We need to want to take sides and we need to care about the twists, and by the time Ladies Vs Ricky Bahl winds down in extremely simplistic fashion, we just don't care anymore. If this were a better-made film, we might have been justifiably outraged by the lame sexism meted out at the climax, but for now yawning seems reaction enough.

The Dirty Picture, despite the comprehensive objectivity implied through its title, is not a full-fledged biopic. Instead of painting a layered portrait of Silk, it draws an outline of an unapologetic resident of a flesh-obsessed film industry responsible for her rise and ruin. But Vidya lends her so much transparency, aplomb and sauciness, the outcome is far more awe-inspiring than it deserves to be. Whether she's cracking crude innuendos or bursting out of her tightly-fitted clothing to expose all those meticulously added calories, the actress, literally, puts her soul and body to embody Silk. In a world, where a majority of women obsess over a flat stomach above anything else, Vidya flaunts a protruding belly as though it didn't exist. Such commitment would impress anybody -- you, me. Tom Hanks? In terms of creativity, it's a middling effort. But where bravado is concerned, The Dirty Picture kicks ass by virtue of three very strong reasons: Vidya Balan. Vidya Balan. Vidya Balan.

Desi Boyz, a film that paints so ridiculously rosy a picture of the gigolo life that it plays like a recruitment film sponsored by pimps. Chitrangada Singh [ Images ], on the other hand, is a sheer trainwreck, so bad it hurts to watch her. (Thankfully she only enters the film in the second half.) Before she and the second half enter, the film motors along almost tolerably. There are sloppy musical cues and an inconsistent use of narrative gimmicks.

Rockstar, like Mani Ratnam's Dil Se.. or Ashutosh Gowarikar's [ Images ] Swades [ Images ], is a heart-felt, inflexible vision of an insightful filmmaker. It is bound to generate polarizing responses. Either you will be able to hear the unsaid, draw your own subtext, understand Jordan's disdain for the system, disregard for his fans, sense the reason for the lingering rejection of his family and girl , read his eyes, see the pain and feel his need to be treated normally again. Or you will nitpick where he took his guitar lessons, why don't we ever see him talk to his mother, why did he not reveal his true feelings to Heer earlier on, why doesn't he care for idolisation, why are Heer's folks so benign and inconsequential, why does the film end without any drama or dhan-te-nan?

The humour in the film is accidental rather than intended. This one is strictly for old-timers who could get a high seeing Dharmendra, Vinod Khanna and Rishi Kapoor in the same frame even if it is for just a few minutes. The rest would be happier watching Shah Rukh's antics in 3-D.