In a weird sort of way, The Great Gatsby is to America what Devdas is to Indians. Deep down, they are both shallow books, which is one of the reasons they make for great tent-pole entertainment.

There is no doubt this movie is based on a true story. It’s too crafty for a screenwriter’s invention. So are the folks before us on the screen. While you know the basic story, you’re always aware there could be a fine twist at the end. And that is a surprise. Besides that this super-smart movie stars Akshay Kumar.

The narrator, who’s also the hero, suggests there are three kinds of kids in the world: “chamche”, who suck up to their parents; the rebellious sorts, who take them head-on; and the smart ones, who do what they like, and their parents never know. This stiff-neck, stone-faced, tight-assed lead character belongs to the mysterious fourth category: henpecked by mom (Ratna Pathak Shah), bull-dozed by pop (Boman Irani), this fellow grew up under-sexed, under-confident, under his parent’s thumb. That his parents are so unnecessarily phony and psychotic, I guess, takes away from some of the realism. But it’s all in the interest of comedy.

An earnest Vijay Dinanath Chauhan delivers poetic justice before a nearly packed hall on the proverbial ‘first day first show’. Audiences at my cinema respond to the cues and lines. The comments passed sometimes distract you from the screen. Everyone guffaws at the same time. This is the kind of genuine theatre experience, now getting rare, which remains most precious in the life of a film-goer. Reason can take over later. I had a ball! – See more at: http://www.hindustantimes.com/Entertainment/Reviews/Mayank-Shekhar-s-review-Agneepath/Article1-802542.aspx#sthash.kXRpmg6s.dpuf

At worst, the film remains then a yawn inducing, half explained romance; at best, it’s an effortless watch all the way.

It’s unlikely to garner critical acclaim, of course. No male reviewer will recommend a movie because it gave him a hard-on. Female critic will probably sense exploitation. Silk couldn’t care less. She collects only photos of hers that appear in the press.

From its start, to the way it progresses, you can tell, the film’s been through various stages of editing and several second thoughts. Sometimes the patchiness shows. It’s a stretch. Anything that’s 18 reels long (close to three hours) in a flickering world of low attention spans would be. Something fizzles out towards the end. You still don’t begrudge a movie that’s been this engaging, entertaining thus far.

These are interesting times. Different voices. Newer faces. Still Bollywood. The material here may be a lot better than the movie. But it doesn’t quite disappoint you still. Which is great to know. And you should be good to go.

This one is admirably inspired, is almost a sophomore effort. As you’d know, that’s a pretty hefty compliment to pay.

It’s a sweet, intimate, fable-like film, even unnecessarily sanitised in parts, that touches upon issues of class, poverty, childhood, dreams, without ever quite losing sight of a reasonably plausible, engaging tale to tell. This helps.