Abhay Deol shoots himself in the foot by acting in (and, inexplicably, producing) this monstrosity that sucks all the goodwill out of an actor we usually like, and his apparent girlfriend Preeti Desai hands in the kind of atrocious performance that makes vintage Katrina look like Juhi Chawla. True to its name, this is half a film. It’s half-written, half-digested, half-witted.

Despite the hamfisted direction (at one point Suniel Shetty shows up on a highway and starts shooting people with a goddamned tank), the film’s main problem is that Jai Ho isn’t about being a samaritan or paying it forward; it’s about a man who can smash the system all by himself. Not entirely relatable, nope.

Dhoom 3 is a children’s film made for children who’ve never seen a film.

There could have been some truly vicious invective here, instead of which we’re merely given many an accent, all in the name of quirk.

It’s one thing for moronic characters to take a fish for granted, but entirely — and unforgivably — another for a director to do the same with this audience.

…is a monstrously excessive film with a riot of colours, a girl who looks very pretty indeed and a daft hero, but despite that being the warning on the tin whenever you attempt (foolhardily) to buy into a Bhansali product, this can’t be what you bargained for. GKRR is an overplotted, bloody mess.

…the only superpower Krrish has is that of boring the audience. Just stay away, will you? It’s the responsible thing to do. An empty wrist will serve you best.

If you liked the first, go ahead and pretend this one doesn’t exist. It’s what Big Daddy would do.

The film is constantly predictable — just like the first film in the series — but leans too heavily on a very hackneyed romantic angle. It isn’t often one gets to say this about a Bollywood actioner, but a few more gunshots could have been nice. Kumar more than makes up for the lack of Devgn, but despite having a similar first name, Imran really can’t match up to Emraan.

Chennai Express is, in a way, full circle for Deepika Padukone as she — enervated by box-office success and increasingly self-aware as an actress — holds up her end of the film far better, and more consistently than her leading man. She makes an effort; he makes faces. And he’s never seemed more at sea.

It is better than the truly daft film before it, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, but that just means one can tolerably sit — or sleep — through it. There are a couple of strong moments and two very interesting female characters, but on the whole this film, like the protagonist, mostly just grunts.