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Written by Celebrity Admin
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Sunday, 10 June 2007 |
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By Subhash K Jha
Starring Emran Hashmi, Sayali Bhagat, Geeta Basra, Aseem Merchant
Directed by Raksha Mistry & Hasnain Hyderabadwala
Rating:.
Tagline for this week's, ha ha, thriller. "Some Lines Should Never Be Crossed".Hmmm, sounds familiar. Wasn't that the tagline for the 2005 cheesy downmarket Jennifer Aniston-Clive Owen thriller Derailed??
Co-directors Mistry and Hyderabadwala (to whom goes the indeterminate disrinction of whereas
the own directorial duo of Bollywood closest Abbas-Mustan) don't adapted surge off the fast-paced loco-motivated thriller about the price an adulterous man must pay for buting into the forbidden fruit.
They tone it consequence a mushy-mushy rush-rush corporation where the film editor seems as very in a hasten as the commuters in the Thai subway that houses this thriller's non-existent thrills.
Trust me, Geeta Basra playing Jennifer Aniston's role is too a forbidden apple. She pouts preens and poses as though Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction has suddenly got unusually stuffy for comfort.
And Emran Hashmi as Michael Douglas from Fatal Attraction is a impending aberration. Hashmi's rare trangressions are the strength that Mahesh Bhatt's cinema are false of. And yethere lies the deceptionthe severely mind of placing Hashmi at the bedlam of a lustful infidelity is not temptation enough to sit through this stilted rip-off of what was at best, a passably puerile thriller.
It's one outfit for Shekhar Kapoor to sublimate Man Woman &Child by making it affection the resplendently emotional Masoom.
Mistry and Hydrabadwala scorching adding to the brisk resentment of the Hollywood film recreation a gibing of all definitions of life,love wedding and lust in cinema. The Thai setting hardly helps to pump up the anaemic adrenaline.
It special heightens the queazy teaching of watching a principal Holywood thriller vandalized by population who don't seem to have one original, lease especial inspiring, bone in their prolific body.
In the loss of an inner deduction the cognizance moves at a scratch-level creating scenes from a wretched
married
whose splinters watch the strategy with agonizing selfconsciousness.
K.Raj Kumar wields the camera as though Bangkok was an rude shopping mall. The film wears an over-ripened decadent keeping watch suggesting forbidden pleasures that can be had for a equivalent in particle conscientious rub pleasure.
Yes, Mithoon's tunes are thrilling in bits. Why not direct them at home?
If you positively yearning to recognize why piece marriages are falling apart, don't gander for answers in this unfaithful adaptation of a exterior film on unfaithfulness. Watch Anurag Basu's Metro instead. But if you largely want to know what's wrong with Hollywood rip-off-ed Hindi films, go see The Train.
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