Sometimes in life you are forced to ask yourself some hard hitting questions like, “why me?”, “what has brought me in this situation?”, ”Is this due to my bad karma?”, so on and so forth. I went through a similar introspection within 5 minutes after sitting down to watch Dhoom3. The Movie makers have stuck to one important assumption and that is, the audiences who will watch our movie possess brains of the size of peanuts or less. With this basic conviction the entire unit, including the director, script writer, graphics designer and the big shot actors, begin to throw one piece of trash after other and test your forgiveness.
However what they fail to assume is that the audiences sit in a Cinema Hall and not a plane and so there is no seat belt which would fasten them to their seats. Some less forgiving individuals, like me, do walk out of the cinema hall after the interval and vent their frustrations through such blogs and reviews which by the way can be the only sensible things associated with this idiotic big screen fiasco movie, Dhoom3.
As a movie lover I have enjoyed some genuinely crappy movies like Tell Me O’ Khuda, Gang, Student of the year and most of the SRK stuff. But this one is way beyond any movie’s league. It is in a class of its own and hence will draw no parallel in the history of our Indian movies, nah not even from its previous namesakes. The only exception will be if SRK decides to launch Ra One 4 (yes, if Krish could be 3 then why not jump to 4?) in the future thus scoring over his arch enemy Mr. Perfectionist aka Mr. Amir Khan.
Some finer points (just some not all since I left half way owing to a bad headache) about this masterpiece that I would love to discuss more finely are as follows :
Ø A father uses his Identical Twin sons for a so-called magical act and proclaims that it is the best act ever and in spite of that is rejected an additional loan from the Bank and thus shoots himself. The sole aim of his sons’ life then should be to rob that particular bank and all its branches. But not to accept that their father was a quack in the first place and become better individuals instead of churning out this 2hr plus drama. Vengeance my dears is blinder than love!
Ø You run a circus and call it, ‘The Great Indian Circus’, with not even a single Indian artist barring the 2 sons and their stupid secretaries. Let us blame it on the stricter visa policies. Damn the immigration.
Ø Even when your father dies penny less you will grow up to live in a plush condo in NY,own the whackiest Racer Bike in town and manage to hide your identical twin brother, who not just looks like you but has the same hair cut, body structure, eyebrows even the muscles like you, from the rest of the world . Ho Ho Ho you were certainly Santa’s pick for this Christmas!
Ø When you rob a bank (over and over again, since the bankers run a charity and take no measures at improving the security to stop you) you do not need to show the audience how you planed it or did it? Chuck these details and just show showering money to indicate each robbery. And then in spite of the fact that you do not wear a mask or conceal your face, you still roam around the town scot-free and even throw in a tap dance performance to lighten the whole mood! By the way, which one of you was tapping? I failed to tap that, my bad.
Ø You keep referring to the antagonist as Mr.Clown clearly trying to draw an analogy with the marvelous, Jocker. I laughed double than what I did when Vivek Oberoi compared his performance in Krish 3 to that. Oh lord! Mr. Oberoi had no inkling that Mr. Khan was lurking there to out throw him! And Mr. Ledger, may your soul rest in peace if not you can die of shame watching our very own Mr.Clown.
Ø You describe a woman saying “ladki aisi ho jismein kuch karne ka jasba ho”, meaning a lady should be such that she has a fire within to do something extra ordinary. That “extra ordinary” is to strip in front of you and dance around like a bimbette. Beauty with brains got a whole new definition perhaps.
Ø Just one message in Hindi scrawled across the bank lockers sends FBI and all other investigating units into retirement thus demanding the entry of Mr. Bachchan and Mr. Chopra (who previously beat up a whole gang of goons by riding a rickshaw and putting physicists to gutter by doing some gravity defying stunts on their racer bike) who walk into the country with absolutely no luggage, are escorted by the female chief police officer on yet another racer Bike, harangue bank and security officials in their meeting room as if it was Mr.Bachchan’s and Mr. Chopra’s backyard and end up looking like baboons who would win a role in the next offering of Rise of Apes. From where did you get so much of self control sirs, to do all that you did here and still remain sane?
I am sure there were a few more points but damn the headache has resurfaced causing blinding pain. Argh, such disturbing are the after effects of this movie that I wish it had gone Vroom Vroom vroom instead of dhoom dhoom dhoom isn’t it, mummy!!!!!!
