Another week goes by and again I convince myself that it's safe to go and watch a movie again. Of course, I end up with the more than familiar by now "what the HELL was I thinking?"
YPD is what you'd expect out of a movie made in the early 80s. Paper thin plot devices, acting like you'd see in a 5th class school play and actors who themselves should've stayed in the 80s themselves.
Acting wise, Dharam Pajee HAD a legacy. Now he's a caricature. Forced jokes. Stuff that was maybe funny when DD was all that was on air and no idea that slapstick isn't as funny with an audience above the average age of 13. By the time you realize that the "Dhai kilo ka haath" SMS is no longer funny, you're done with what little contribution Sunny Deol makes to the film. Bobby Deol should. be. whipped. with. a. hunter and given career counselling. Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty, but since when was that ever enough? She might want to take the exit and separate route from this kind of film-making before all she's reduced to is doing the occasional item song.
Plot and cinematography wise, this is juvenile at best. You can almost imagine a "MAN I'M SO HIGH ON COCAINE! LET'S MAKE A MOVIE TODAY" scene in the scriptwriter's head. You can see the ending coming a parsec away. You can predict plot twists. You don't even have to out of your diapers yet to do that. And then there's the racist stereotype of the Punjabi household. Where everyone's drunk, loud and wears a sherwani to the farm. We get it. Punjab. Rajma, Alcohol. Blech.
Overall, this is an exercise in how to fall for your own hype and retain no semblance of respect in either your audience or your peers. This is 2011, you know. One would hope filmmakers make that realization sometime in the near future.
2 out of 10. 1 of that because Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty. And I'm still unfollowing her on twitter.
YPD is what you'd expect out of a movie made in the early 80s. Paper thin plot devices, acting like you'd see in a 5th class school play and actors who themselves should've stayed in the 80s themselves.
Acting wise, Dharam Pajee HAD a legacy. Now he's a caricature. Forced jokes. Stuff that was maybe funny when DD was all that was on air and no idea that slapstick isn't as funny with an audience above the average age of 13. By the time you realize that the "Dhai kilo ka haath" SMS is no longer funny, you're done with what little contribution Sunny Deol makes to the film. Bobby Deol should. be. whipped. with. a. hunter and given career counselling. Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty, but since when was that ever enough? She might want to take the exit and separate route from this kind of film-making before all she's reduced to is doing the occasional item song.
Plot and cinematography wise, this is juvenile at best. You can almost imagine a "MAN I'M SO HIGH ON COCAINE! LET'S MAKE A MOVIE TODAY" scene in the scriptwriter's head. You can see the ending coming a parsec away. You can predict plot twists. You don't even have to out of your diapers yet to do that. And then there's the racist stereotype of the Punjabi household. Where everyone's drunk, loud and wears a sherwani to the farm. We get it. Punjab. Rajma, Alcohol. Blech.
Overall, this is an exercise in how to fall for your own hype and retain no semblance of respect in either your audience or your peers. This is 2011, you know. One would hope filmmakers make that realization sometime in the near future.
2 out of 10. 1 of that because Ms. Randhawa is unusually pretty. And I'm still unfollowing her on twitter.