“A distressing experience”
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Have money, make movies, seems to be the credo among money bags. Looking at multiplying their investment, these money bags are impervious to the thrash they foist on unsuspecting audiences.
One such flick that has you flailing in agony and anger is this week’s Preethiyinda. Populated with sentimental crap of mother-son, sister-brother, lover-friend relationships, but poor on making a meaningful job of it, director Raju Halagur hounds you with hackneyed hotch-potch.
Insufferable to sit through even for a minute despite its honest intent to drum home the message that there is more to be a decent human being than playing Casanova, Preethiyinda simply hits the pits.
Suffice to say Preethiyinda is anything but loveable or feel affectionate about. Stay away.
Audiences, on the other hand, starved of decent, entertaining and engaging outing, turn suckers, only to either curse a noon ill-spent, or take the easy alternative of snoozing into a well induced siesta in the cool confines of the theatres.