Waste of time in Mumbai

The Mafia they say was born in a Port. Having grown up in one, I therefore harbour an irrationally unhealthy keenness in the underworld. (my bookshelf provides damning evidence). My subject-matter interest coupled with a recent vow to watch more than my standard average of 4 movies a year had me book tickets for "Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai". My first mistake was to dismiss the discouraging newspaper review as the handiwork of an ill-equipped journalist. I went on to ignore a bad omen. It was only the 23rd auto-rickshaw we hailed that reluctantly agreed to ferry us to the cinema. (I am now enlightened with the information that auto-drivers need significant financial incentives to make the journey from Bandra West to Bandra East).

At the end of a damp first half which just about managed to give a loose sketch of the principal characters, I braced for the real drama to commence. An hour later, a few exciting events occurred which convinced me the turning point was (for lack of a better phrase) round the corner. To my amazement, the lights came on and the movie had ended! I sprang in my seat, shocked at the complete absence of a meaningful plot whatsoever.

Word-of-mouth had over-ridden the newspaper review. I was assured of a "riveting" performance by Ajay Devgan (sorry "Devgn"). He might have well been mouthing those corny one-liners into a mirror given the absolute lack of context. It was amusing to see an Emran Hashmi copy Devgn's theatrical demeanour and then a confused Randeep Hooda alternately ape both of them. The movie is meant to have been set in the 70s with the only visible throwback to that decade being the cliched automobiles. Even the whisky being poured seemed to be "Grants" as opposed to Vat 69, the quintessential favourite of that generation, at least in the movies.

I have to conclude by conceding that the seats in Cinemax- Bandra (EAST I hasten to reiterate) are by far the most comfortable and luxurious that I have ever occupied in my limited exposure to Cinemas across the country. I just wish it was located in Bhubaneswar, in which case I would have had access to far more interesting beverages than Coke to cope with this eminently forgettable movie. As regards those whose "word of mouth" I relied on to brave the irritating rains to make the rare journey to a Cinema, guess I now know who my real friends are.