Must be our bad Karma.
The first Telugu movie (that too in the evening of our life) and what a ghastly nightmare it turned out to be!
Just imagine how much more damage Ganesh would have inflicted on our senses if we’d understood the language. There must be a God somewhere smiling upon us.
Folks, Ganesh (Ram, Kajal Aggarwal) is kid stuff, in both the literal and figurative sense.
A silly, stupid love story featuring two grownup kids Ganesh (Ram) and Divya (Kajal Aggarwal) and a army of kid kids, Ganesh ought not to have ever seen the light of the day.
All 165 or so minutes.
What effrontery prompted the producer Sravanti Ravi Kishore to make, and then dare to release this piece of shit in theatres, is a question that can only be answered by a panel of competent psychiatrists.
The second villain of this sick crap is some freak-o-Rama called M.Saravanan, who takes credit for the story, screenplay and direction.
We strongly advise Ganesh ticketholders to carefully retain their tickets – You see, we think Saravanan can be hauled off to court in a class action lawsuit for misrepresentation because this garbage has none of three crucial elements claimed – Story, Screenplay and Direction.
This juvenile drama centers around that grownup kid Ganesh (Ram), who to save his friend Rakesh’s love affair, agrees to fall in love with the second grownup kid Divya (Kajal Aggarwal), who is supposed to marry her relative (yes, the same Rakesh) as per an old agreement among the family elders.
Somewhere along the way, feigned love turns into true love for our Ganesh.
As if this nonsense were not adequate to ignite our fury, there’s a bunch of 20-odd devilish kids in the apartment complex making life miserable for all and sundry and frequently insisting on our Ganesh morphing into a superman.
Then there is the buffoon oops villain (Ashish Vidyarti) and a Pedda Don (Brahmandam). God, the antics Vidyarthi and Brahmandam have to engage in for a few coins. Our heart goes out to them.
To think that film-makers in this day and age still churn out such amateur stuff, even if it be in the cesspool of Tollywood, is cause for grave alarm. Will the Congress High Command Soniaji and Rahulji, please look into this too while settling the Andhra Pradesh state leadership issue.
Word-missiles like Champaestanu and Rakshashi flew by constantly as the small-statured hero smashes to a pulp an entire gang of villains, occasionally single-handedly (literally), and once miraculously landing his blimp on the villain’s terrace.
The final fighting scene is the best comedy we’ve seen in a long time. Thank you, Peter Heins.
As far as acting goes, Ram seemed alright (by Tollywood standards, or at least our idea of it) until the interval and then careened downhill.
The guy is a better dancer than his girl.
Much as we wanted to be sympathetic to Kajal Aggarwal, we must acknowledge that the girl had a hard time emoting and had a stern expression plastered on her face for much of the movie.
As she proved during her effete lovey-dovey scenes, the girl would have a hard time getting a rise out of even Casanova.
By the way, Kajal Aggarwal desperately needs breast augmentation. The poor thing must probably be going around in banians. 😉
In several crucial scenes, banian gal was completely lost. For instance, when she overhears the bit about feigned love, when Ganesh slashes his wrist at her Peddama’s place, the kissing rehearsal under the tree and the final moments after Ganesh gives one of those filmy bhashans about love. In all of these scenes, Kajal Aggarwal was a lump of wood.
Someone, please find this girl a dance teacher. Her dance moves reminded us of Vadivelu’s swagger in Kanthaswamy.
People Walked Out, Really
Sure, the movie was rubbish from the first frame but it turned into an infernal nightmare for the last 60-70 minutes.
Our neighbors (a group of three seated in front of us) were the first to walk out during the second half, followed by bigger groups every few minutes.
Hey, who can blame these battered souls for seeking relief from this lengthy ordeal.
If we didn’t have this review, we’d have headed out too and rushed over to the nearest bar for a stiff scotch to restore our sanity.
As is to be expected in a trashy movie of this ilk, your love for your dream-girl can only be proven by slashing your wrist.
Mercifully, the music was a saving grace of this piece of junk although the picturization of songs set a new record in silliness and crudity.
Our favorite songs were Chalo Chalore and Lalla Lai.
Picturization of Raj Kumari, Raj Kumari You are My Heart and Soul is not meant to be watched by those with weak hearts or the elderly with pacemakers.
Are You Kidding?
Guys, this pretender of a movie screams to be shown the middle finger.
Ignore Ganesh with gusto (although we suggest you consider buying the music CD).