The funniest thing about this comedy is just how angry it can make you. Guest iin London, like its titular protagonist, is a burden no one should have to bear.

…it’s the movie-equivalent of the string of 10,000 non-stop firecrackers that annoying kids burst outside your window in Diwali.

…it is too reminiscent of bank-heist movies of the past; there are even clear shoutouts to the Dhoom franchise. A better plan of action and a few dry runs with the script would have ensured a product to bank on.

The writing shows potential, to be honest. Moments like a romantic track playing over a funeral and a drunken rant about the Rahuls and Rajs of Bollywood give you hope. Had the writers taken a dig at patriarchy and given the female characters some spunk, this would have been hilarious.

If sparks flew more organically, it would have been easier to make a connection with this epic tale of love.

If you’re going for the Kung Fu, chances are you’ll end up in a meditative state instead.

If you’re in the mood to get scared this weekend, you’d have better luck surfing the news channels.

Three of the four songs are recreations of older hits and pop-up dutifully when there’s a lull in the screenplay. The background score refuses to die down and accompanies you throughout the movie.

There is no justifiable reason to recommend this one.

To its credit, the movie is only 102 minutes long, and you can see a sense of honesty in it. But the final product is underwhelming and looks like a small-scale remake of the Hollywood film franchise, The Purge (innocent people running scared on the streets, dodging murderous mobs).

The characters are inconsistent, the lines are handpicked from a Dialogue For Dummies guide and there’s a general lack of attention to detail.