The film critic of the Toilet Paper of India knows all this too well.
So, she sits at home, watches a few more promos of the movie in
the DVD player, sips some wine and writes some fiction for
the next day's column.
Fools like me wake up, gets very kicked by the liberal use of
the word 'Tarantino' and digests the whole review along
with the morning tea. Then, rather than trying to fix the day's
lunch, gets tickets fixed for the show. Alerts friends that
shouldn't munch popcorn during the show since the
esteemed reviewer has warned us that the film " demands
your unbridled attention from the word GO and allows you
to sit back only at your own peril"
The result is that you walk into the film with more intelligence than it needs. Vishal Bharadwaj and his team might have had a ball in making the film, no doubt. So, you have multi coloured gangsters in different linguistic attires coming in and mouthing cheeky dialogues and blowing each other up for God knows what. On the top of it you have Bollywood's equivalent to Hollywood's multiple personality disorder, THE TWIN BROTHER. So, you watch the same
movie which your entire line of family starting from great grand dad has watched -the ultimate story of two brothers; played by the same actor here so that some money will be left for
the lavish dance scenes 'full of energy'.
As you walk out of the show, you try to rhyme it with Reservoir Dogs.
The end result is a very serious desire to give one tight slap to the
movie reviewer of Toilet Paper of India.