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Kaizad Gustad’s Jackpot is so mind-blowingly bizarre, so utterly lacking any semblance of thought regarding the narrative that it makes you wonder if it was all an experiment in subverting every shred of formalism in film narration. The film stars poor man’s Mahaakshay, Sachin Joshi (and is set in, ahem, Goa,) who hatches a con masterplan that is so laughably silly that you’ll exit the theaters brimming with newfound reverence for Abbas-Mustan. Characters try to play cool, fail miserably, characters die, it’s revealed that they’re not dead after all, they play cool, fail miserably, the villain utters what the writer/s think are badass lines, fails miserably. Title cards with what the filmmakers would like to believe are punchlines punctuate scenes from time to time. There’s ample talk of Sunny Leone’s breasts which even 12 year olds would find lackluster. Naseeruddin Shah plays the villain akin to Anil Kapoor in Tashan, albiet one who actually takes himself seriosly, who gets the only sensible line in the movie “Baal hai, rassi nahi hai,” that it’s his hair and not a rope. There’s non-linear chronology, hilarious GIF-worthy shots, cringeworthy dialogues, ignominiously stupid display of filmmaking and the abominably putrid Sachin Joshi wearing semi-transparent baniyans occupying almost every frame. I’ve heard that people go to Goa to get drunk and smoke up, and it’s no coincidence that Jackpot was shot in Goa.