Polished-looking, its edges – the tension of feeling harassed at work, office politics, ego flashes – hold rather well. But its centre collapses in a soft mess.

This movie could have been so much more. Like champagne gone flat, the film’s left lying about for too late, its plot meandering everywhere.

If you don’t like Salman Khan, Dabanng 2 won’t pack a punch for you.

First, the good news – Rush has an interesting plot and great detailing, the latter unusual in Bollywood. Such detailing – irregularly placed photos in Samar (Hashmi) and girlfriend Ahana’s (Ghatge) home, favourite coffee mugs from which media tycoon-types sip their whisky, a T-shirt cheekily promising ‘Endless Vacation’ landing a billionaire in jail – add heft to this tale.

This is a serious film – but far from somber, a tongue-tied Nirmal blushingly telling Priti, “Mujhe tumhare pyaar karne ki – matlab, larne ki shiddat bahut pasand hai,” the brigade’s youthful high spirits including stripping British guards and making them do utthak-baithak, and finally, the real ‘Jhunku’ or Subodh Roy talking about his life’s most amazing experience. Like a Chittagong orchid, the movie takes time to blossom – but when it does, it’s beautiful. And pleases a certain master.

You know that thing called ‘thay-ter’ – where people go on stage, speak really loudly, open their eyes wide and laugh uproariously to make their point? Well, ‘thay-ter’ can be good – but transported to cinema, it can stretch a bit thin. And feature some awkward moments – of which Bumboo has a few. Except for the ‘thay-ter’ – that wide-eyed overacting with incessant PJs, gay no-jokes, even some vomiting. Peppy background music lifts the bar frequently while cracks on screwdrivers and biwi-chors help. But Bumboo gets shafted by its lapses into lavatory humour – and too much thay-ter for cinema.

Straight up, Silver Linings Playbook (SLP) is a lovely movie with a heart of caramel – and an occasionally brilliant mind. The story’s endearingly intelligent – “I apologise on behalf of Ernest Hemmingway!” yells Pat breaking a window, outraged by a novel’s sad ending – perfumed by quirky, unconventional romance, celebrating a love for life that hurts and heals together. There are tiny quibbles – it could’ve had a tangent less – but at the end, you’re left with pure silver lining and no cloud.

On the upside, Aalaap makes an effort to depict people caught in troubled times. Sometimes – in a shot showing Yadav weeping without words, the blue walls of his humble home bathed in golden gloomy light, in an exchange between Bharti and Anna, in depicting a callous, clueless regime – it does that well. A lot of the time, it falters. But its sincerity helps as does its music. Debutante rock group Agnee’s composed more than a passable score, particularly the number ‘Paaparapa’ which hums away in your mind well after you’ve left the hall. Good job, Agnee – welcome to Bollywood. For the others, there’s still some way out of the woods.

Fatso’s a whimsical film with a rhythm somewhere between jazz and an old Bollywood song. you imagine Fatso’s second half will rev up.Alas. Here’s where Fatso flops down heavily. Any sense of magic, of life rescued from death, love saved from vanishing, even the funny ironies of a slim guy stuck in a fat form, is totally missing. The ‘friends group’ is unconvincingThe film seems overwhelmed by its own smart styling – little details like a dress drying on a clothesline, a girl rubbing hand-cream onto her palms, are clever. But there’s too much style, not enough substance.

Despite slick action and stunning scenes – bullets ramming underwater into a sunlit stream, a violet flower-bush before a cop-car – Tezz loses speed often. Here’s possibly why – director Priyadarshan’s oeuvre is putting characters in desperate situations and watching them respond. It works beautifully in comedies – but Tezz needs relentless pushing, not frequent stops pondering over the unfairness of citizenship. You can’t run fast carrying heavy baggage – that’s why Tezz huffs and puffs a little too much.