Mark my words!
Ten years from now when Akshay Kumar’s strapping 21-year-old son Aarav struts down the streets of Mumbai, passersby will sullenly glare at the youth, rain curses on his entire family and spit on the sidewalk muttering, “There goes the son of the Nathuram who destroyed the Hindi film industry.”
No big Indian star has inflicted as much damage on Bollywood as Akshay Kumar with his leave-your-brains-at-home films (De Dana Dan), stolen movies (Heyy Baby) and contemptible trash (Kambakkht Ishq, Blue).
This modern day Ghazni’s rampage of destruction on the Bollywood playfield continues with unmatched ferocity in Once Upon a Time in Mumbai Dobaara a.k.a. OUATIMD.
Sequel to a popular 2010 film, OUATIMD is grotesque buffoonery with no escape hatches from the unending fusillade of drivel.
Akshay Kumar and his chief accomplice Milan Luthria (director) ensure no aspect of OUATIMD is left untarnished to the hilt.
Never a believer in mundane stuff like delighting the paying audience, Akshay Kumar takes the scorched earth route in Once Upon a Time in Mumbai Dobaara with a miserable performance that even Bollywood’s prize simpleton Abhishek Bachchan will find hard to match.
Instead of Mumbai’s much dreaded gangster Shoaib Khan, Akshay behaves like the clown prince in a menagerie of buffoons.
Gravitas is de rigueur even for a Don, particularly the city’s most dreaded gangster.
But Akshay’s walk, dialog delivery, mannerisms, violence and virtually every aspect of his performance scream silly, silly, silly.
From his first appearance in the film (inside the Azaad Restaurant) to his last (outside the Azaad Restaurant from where he’s dragged by his feet), Akshay Kumar’s indelible stamp on the film is an astonishingly inept performance.
I’d wager that even an amateur rent-a-rowdy in the dark alleys of Mumbai would play a goon in more befitting fashion.
Prequel – Classy Affair
We owe Once Upon a Time in Mumbai Dobaara to the well deserved success of its 2010 prequel Once Upon a Time in Mumbai.
Having recently watched the prequel featuring Ajay Devgn, Emran Hashmi and Kangna Ranaut, I must acknowledge that it is a million times better compared to the ghastly sequel that hit the screens today.
Ajay Devgn’s polished portrayal of the gangster Sultan Mirza in the prequel spoke of a life that endured more pain and hardship than many see in several lifetimes. (Netflix has the DVD if you’re interested.)
Emran Hashmi played the role of Sultan’s underling Shoaib Khan with far more aplomb than Akshay does in the sequel.
Given the chalk and cheese quality of the two films, it’s hard to believe they share the same director (Milan Luthria).
One can safely assume the last three years has not been kind to Milan Luthria’s mental health.
After a murder attempt on his life in Oman by rival Rawal (Mahesh Manjrekar), Shoaib Khan (Akshay Kumar) returns to Mumbai to seek retribution.
What follows in Mumbai is an unwatchable gallimaufry of love, violence and ego!
If Akshay Kumar’s horrid performance was the appetizer, the dreadful hodgepodge of a story, the insipid action scenes and noise masquerading as music constituted the main course in this carnival of nonsense.
Blood curdling violence is the raison d’être of a gangster film. But don’t expect any such chilling stuff here. Any violence is of the crude, comical kind accompanied by inane dialogs (watch the killing of Shoaib’s foot-soldier Jimmy or the final fight between Shoaib and Aslam).
The action scenes, whether the one on the train (Imran Khan), the roof-top escape (Akshay Kumar, Imran Khan) or the final one-sided fight, break no new ground. They’re garden-variety stuff from Hollywood films of the 1980s.
Imran Khan (who plays Aslam, one of Shoaib Khan’s henchmen) seems earnest but is rendered impotent in the context of an awful script by Rajat Arora.
Director Luthria is completely at sea in melding the gangster and romantic aspects, which was better executed in the prequel.
If we were impressed with anyone in this
film junk, it was Pitobash Tripathy, who plays Aslam’s buddy Dedh Tang. The fellow shines in a small role!
I was mighty pleased to see director Milan Luthria consigning that bimbo Sonali Bendre of See, No Panties, Hey, Hey, See My Bush, I’m Not Wearing Panties fame to an insignificant role.
I will gladly confess to finding one endearing quality about Sonakshi Sinha – Her bosom always makes its grand entrance a second ahead of the well-nourished Bihari girl.
Even when lying down under the train bridge with Imran Khan and gazing at the stars in the film, Sonakshi’s ample bosom and fleshy torso testify that this was a woman raised on a daily diet of undiluted milk, freshly churned butter and thick curds.
The only hope for saving Indian movies from uberdouches like Akshay Kumar lies in savage reprisal by the audience, i.e. staying away from offensively trashy films like Once Upon a Time in Mumbai Dobaara.
SearchIndia.com’s strong opinion is that OUATIMD is PUTRID stuff, completely unsuitable for humans, animals, aliens, birds, fishes, insects or even rodents.