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There were other than the Standard Issue Couple in the last row, me and a friend. Now that is two tickets the film makers werent expecting to sell. Every now and then Hindi cinema churns out a dud movie so the "financiers" can claim what the The Producers were hoping to. You know come up with a project that is bound to fail *nudge nudge* wink wink* black ka white money.
And some of us have to go and watch some projects to the bitter end.
I know that I had accepted a no hope "proposition" when I walked into the theatre, but I wonder what Rakesh Bedi and Sushmita Mukherjee were smoking when they signed on the dotted line? I have been raised on a steady diet of Govinda so I am not one to criticise Aatri Kumar for being vertically and aesthetically challenged, so what was it about this juice seller turned film hero aspirant that antagonised me so? I must thank my fellow "hostage" for putting me out of my agony when she remarked It Is As If He Didnt Even Bother Cleaning Up His Act For the Privelege.
Nilufer Salehi as the NRI hottie knew that she was in for a bum deal, terible clothes, threadbare plot line. but at least she put her heart and falsies on the line. Mr Kumar didnt even bother and went about with this smug expression "showed ya all, didnt I?" as he plays a wastrel lout about Udaipur town who has just lucked out with the latest hottie in town. Enter loud parents and Bedi et Ms. Sushmita with terrible accents that fluctuate as regulalry as the quality of the print. I am guessing twenty minutes into even the "camera person" had lost the will to live and set the camera on auto, and then they doused the film reel in the Udaipur lake where most of the action happens...but the dodgy algae ridden bit, not the nice part.
There are a lot of ugly, loud people doing ugly, loud stuff on screen not letting the young lovers "unite" (Good Lord please dont let them, the young woman grew more Badi Did towards the runt of the Jatt litter by the moment and the smug Veeru just needed someone to put him out of his misery rather procreate) but the theatre where we were had security guards coming in flicking the lights on, putting the fear of the Lord (and a baton) into romancing couple in the back row. That was way more interesting than the antics on the screen.
Let me just say that after suffering through the JATT KE THAATH, I realise KHAP PANCHAYATS aren't the worst thing the Jatts have unleashed on to us.