Pedestrian wit works best around actors who don’t just go with the flow, but shape it to suit their comical timing. That’s the difference between performers and parrots.

But the underwhelming leads of Sonu Ke Titu Ki Sweety don’t seem to know the difference at all.

It’s a bloated, prolonged mess of misplaced purpose that digresses from military misdeeds to animal cruelty.

PadMan has its premise in place. Now if only it had some wings.

Imagine Shutter Island’s big twist taken completely out of context to reiterate Bollywood’s hurt on the same spot again solution.

What emerges is as plausible as a pig head in a frog’s body.

Safe idealism or simply phony, you decide if you intend to endure 161 minutes of this toothless, tiring, plastic Tiger Zzzzzinda Hai.

Where most members of Fukrey Returns are as superfluous as its new, blah soundtrack, the whimsical troika of Sharma, Chadha and Pankaj Tripathi do their best to lift its plodding pace with their distinct brand of humour.

But even the cub couldn’t suppress his yawn. I am only human.

Fisher makes most of his defined backstory, Momoa is pure swagger but it’s Ezra Miller’s goofy charm and spontaneous humour in a Spidey-Stark reminiscent equation with Batman that evokes the maximum laughs.  

They are the only reason why nearly two hours of Justice League’s blobby structure, sullen palette and superfluous battles are all right to endure. 

Jia Aur Jia has little interest in showcasing its scenic landscapes, glorious architecture or lively cafes. This same vapid approach dumbs down the talents of Kalki and Richa into pictures of hollow passions and iffy motives.

Some of the jokes soar, some nosedive.

But to the housefull theatre I saw it in, and who laughed at every single bit, it’s the stuff Diwali releases are made of.  

What it packs with significance is a leading lady whose authority in cinema few can hold candle to. And it’s to her credit that even the most dubious figures of history can boast of a heart.