The first reviews of Salman Khan’s new film Ready are out.
And they are not positive.
Here’s a sample of critical reviews for Ready:
Times of India
The first half involves running around the trees (read beating around the bush) while the actual story starts only in the second half. The graph of the narrative does pick up somewhere in the second half but the tempo falls intermittently thanks to the convoluted writing and the protracted proceedings. By the time the film reaches its melodramatic high-voltage climax giving Salman simulated scope to go topless, it leaves you exasperated.
The entire villain tribe is unusually unkempt and intentionally irritating. The sidetrack of the pampered spoilt grandson (Mohit Baghel) being subjugated by Salman’s buffoonery is annoying. Sajid-Farhad’s dialogues don’t elevate the humour much and when Salman expresses romance with lines like ‘main kutta hoon, yeh kutiya hain’, you know the film is going to the dogs.
So, the climax includes little boys standing in a line and peeing on the baddies; the dialogue includes lines like: “in that case, aa jao mere paas meri suitcase” and my favorite: “aaj pehli baar kisi aurat ne samajdari ki baat ki” and if you prefer your films to have a coherent plot, then you best sit this one out.
Ready made me laugh sporadically but beyond a point I could almost feel my brain cells shrinking and exhaustion setting in, one joke at a time. I’m going with two stars.
If, however, I had to pay to watch Ready, Anees Bazmee’s latest film, I would feel sorely insulted. One doesn’t and can’t really take offense at a bad film, but a film that doesn’t even try Now that’s a whole different league of idiocy. It’s all very well to turn Priyadarshanese into a bloody genre, but films like Ready often don’t even feel like actual films: just a showcase of Sallu Bhai and his intentionally-limited skills. The plot is puerile, the characters are stock, and the heroine is a prop, all so that Salman can strut around like a megastar and some of us can applaud indulgently as if watching a twelve-year-old paint the roof of a chapel. With a chappal. (Yeah, that pun would have made it into Bazmee’s script easy.)
To make things clear, this is not Dabanng. Looking at that historically huge hit, one can see what works: Salman swaggers around the place in a moustache, sure, but there is also a fundamental reliance on plot, however inanely formulaic. In this latest film, Khan seems to be pushing his own rather frightening envelope — “How little can I get away with?” “Will they pay to just watch me smirk?” “Can I do this scene campy and that scene straight?” “Will the audience eat up random groin thrusts if only I use the hilarious word ‘peoples’ over and over again?” — and Ready, as a result, falls flat for lack of trying. It is a film trying to coast on Salman while Salman tries to coast on his own star-wattage, and so we have a film with a first half that takes ages to get going and a second half that just doesn’t end.
…The plot of the film twists and turns around pointless landmarks like typical Aamir Khan jokes, silly innuendo, goofy scenes and a few signature Anees Bazmee characters — a few of which are mildly amusing. Post the pee break (that’s what they call the interval), Salman goes all Hero No 1 to win his lady over.
Ready is mindless but entertaining in parts. Expectations from the film were high considering the last film that featured the star was a blockbuster. Ready isn’t a patch on Salman’s Wanted or Dabangg in terms of entertainment value.
There is always a rich hero, an airhead of a heroine, long-haired, weird looking villains who make sporadic appearances and brandish guns, bumbling aunts and uncles and loads of toilet humour. You can also call it mass cinema, formula films or the oft-used “leave-your-brains-behind-cinema.”
‘Ready’ is strictly for die-hard Salman Khan fans (are there any other kind?) who’re willing to forgive the fact that this tasteless, senseless film has no plot to speak of, yet lazily unfolds over two hours and thirty minutes….reruns of his ‘Dus Ka Dum’ episodes on Youtube are more likely to make you smile than this agonisingly boring film