A soft-drink costs a whopping 200 rupees. "This is a thankless job," complains the disgruntled vendor yanking a phenomenal 43rd person awake while the curtains roll down over the screen dangling loosely between reality, unconsciousness and cinema.
A soft-drink still costs a whopping 200 rupees. "This is a giving job," explained the kind-hearted vendor who hauled another victim forcibly into the theater. Once inside, this was figured out:
Arjun (Arjun) is trying to track a terrorist leader with the help of Anjali (Tabu), who he had rescued earlier from the hideout of the same. This can be taken to be THE plot for the movie, and as floor number 25,000 for the forthcoming metaphor. If 'starting from the ground floor, watching each & every floor passing by while in an old dilapidated open door elevator, due to stop only on floor number 25,000' sounds vague, long & boring, try arguing with the makers of this one. Deeply inspired by the concept, they swapped floors with reels.
There's also a sub-plot of the mysterious suicide of Arjun's ex-wife Asha (Nivedita). One and a half hours of 'reeling', and Arjun is still trying to track a terrorist leader with the help of Anjali while the soft-drink vendors walked in.
The mood is tense. People are reacting variably to the goings-on on screen. Some are snoring, some are glaring helplessly and some are pounding their fists furiously at the projector. Imagine how much worse it will be when the movie actually resumes after the interval.
The curtains finally unveil, thrusting upon us the remainders of the pieces of reel. The terrorists now abduct Arjun's neighbour's kids as they already kidnapped Tabu earlier. Arjun easily completes the déjà vu by busting the terrorist's ass once again & once & for all. As for the sub-plot, Asha kills herself, out of shame it seems, since her terrorist-father's blood was being pumped into her aorta. At the fag end of the film, a fed-up dad emotionally ponders over the dismal condition of our country. Why?
This is just a beginning.
Arjun flips for Anjali even though he dreams sequences about his ex every other second. Why? The hackneyed humor has been directly smuggled from Mein Khiladi Tu Anari. Why? The best song of the movie has the same tune as the worst song of Idiot. Why? The climax of the conscience-free parent killing a criminal offspring is stashed from Vaastav. Why? Our national flag is not once shown in this "patriotic" slush. Why?
Tabu is the only actress in recent times to have won two national awards. She still signed this movie, and worse even, lived up to her mistake. Why? Arjun is a super actor but a blooper director. Why? This was meant to have released on the 50th anniversary of Indian Independence but it's playing in the theaters now. Why? That's because the makers of the flick are a little slow, and that perhaps answers almost all the queries except the following which would haunt you for weeks altogether after watching the movie: Why me?