For most part, the film will put a smile on your faces. Something about it makes you forget that there’s a sum total of two dishes, which feature in a loop here. Thankfully, Chef is pleasant while it lasts. And for everything else, there’s Masterchef.

At over 2 hours, it’s an overwrought saga which aimlessly beats around the bush but gives us no real insight. Amidst the clutter of lawyers barking at each other at unusually high decibels and Shraddha’s swollen face (to emphasise her age), there’s little to appreciate in this one. I will go with what one of the lawyers rightly pointed out – “This is frivolous!” He was warning us about the film. Get the hint!

A tighter second half, fewer songs and a less hurried ending would have made Simran a watch for keeps.

But there’s more reason to celebrate Simran than diss it. The quirky perspective at finding laughs in troubled times is a refreshing way of viewing problems. And then there’s Kangana, making badass look simple, human and so full of heart.

This is just a snoozefest, all the way.

The best way to relish this film is by arranging your expectations of it. Let’s get real – there is no novelty to what plays out. There is some fun to be had if you have interest in either action or dance, or both. Siddiqui’s comic relief is a cherry on the top. But the real treat here is Shroff, who has mastered the genres of dance and action in this industry. His fans are going to have one helluva time at this freak show. Others, avoid!

Bank Chor is one of the most unbearable movies of recent times. The problem is no one cared to make it well. The only saving grace is that Vivek Oberoi and Riteish Deshmukh haven’t teamed up for an offensive sex comedy this time around

In Her Directorial Debut, ‘Death In The Gunj’, Konkana SenSharma Uses One Of Her Father’s Memorable Stories To Spin A Tapestry Of Intrigue, Keeping It Brimming With Emotions Of Dejection, Hurt, Passion And Love

Erskine paints a palpable picture of Tendulkar, gently revealing his psyche through the lulls in his life, expressing his excitement when the time was good, and how the cricketer sought solace in music, vada pav and the almighty. His teammates play strong supporting roles as the film climaxes with the momentous 2011 World Cup win, and his stirring retirement speech. What you’ll watch in theatres is not just another movie. It’s India’s biggest success story, that of a curly mopped kid conquering the nation’s heart.

A film like this is frustrating, to be frank. The narrative is refreshingly written, brimming with breezy humour. But it is ironic that the haunting spirit is lacking, both metaphorically and literally speaking.

It’s a great watch for those looking for cleavage shots of busty ladies heaving and all. The men aren’t much of a delight in that department — in one scene, a woman sprays perfume on her guy before doing ‘it’. A cue for body hygiene, and also to make better movies that don’t trivialise rape. No Nirbhaya, India hasn’t changed much. We still objectify women — zoom into their butts and breasts to sell tickets. Hope you are in a better place.