Magic tricks are performed with a flourish borrowed both from Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale in The Prestige. Costumes are snatched from an Edwardian era and set in a house from a horror film. There are singing nuns; servants who stir, chop and slice with vigour; women who weep beatifically; and a model who appears to be in the middle of a Vogue cover shoot. Yet the only one crying in this marathon tug-at-the-heart is the producer, who has spent Rs 60 crore on red roses, red scarves and red ties.

I Hate Luv Storys relies entirely on Imran Khan’s genetic code and it almost succeeds. Please understand, it’s no small feat to make a romantic comedy. You have to marry a self-mocking tone with a sensibility that believes in pink hearts, cuddly toys and cute-as-a-button clothes.