A review of Guddu Rangeela in its own tone and style would simply say, with a smilie: GR is neither rangeela, nor very guddu-guddu. And for this the satisfied team of Subhash Kapoor and Arshad Warsi are to blame.

…tries to be dark and comic, but it’s mostly a ha-ha-he-he satire where the joke is on all things — men and nations — macho and flexed. This description makes the film sound sublime. It’s not. It’s plain ridiculous and fun. It has the sort of jokes that you know are going to be dragged till our sides split.

The characters, though etched with firm, bold outlines, have just a shade or two inside. They are defined by but are also restricted to just their idiosyncrasies. For a film whose plot and progression depends almost entirely on its characters, they are limited. They needed to be illuminated by stories, anecdotes, to be constructed in layers that would have given them dimensions. They are not, especially Bhashkor Banerjee.

Director Krish and superstar Akshay’s GIB is a hectic, loud film that skids from one episode to another introducing characters — all prefabricated, one-dimensional ones necessary for simulating a vigilante melodrama — and pushing the story to its inevitable end.

My only humble request is that the next director who gets to sign Ms Leone in a title role and the film is certified A, no time must be wasted in telling a story. All efforts must be devoted to making sure that her orgasmic shenanigans are of the quality and quantity that merit the A certification.

Barring a few brief peccadilloes, the film is now homage to the redeeming powers of love and the institution of marriage. It’s all about how love, like the Hindus’ Ganga shanan, Muslims’ wuzoo, Christians’ baptism, washes away our sins, birthing a new, pure, righteous marriageable one.

This morality play, dragging us down since the Elizabethan times, is, well, again, fun interrupts.

Arjun Rampal is channelling his inner angsty hippie here. He gets the slumped demeanour right. The stubble and even the dandruff-hair work. But all’s lost in that exquisite but stony face. Is something the matter with Ranbir Kapoor? First hyper-stupidity in Besharam and now sleep-walking through this cuckoo? Should we worry about Bombay Velvet? Fernandez is, well, easy on the eye and charming. Now for some acting and diction lessons, please.

…for the last 10 or 15 minutes of ‘Baby’, it keeps you on the edge and sends you off feeling happy. But, too little, too late Pandey has written the story, script and directed ‘Baby’. Sometimes another pair of eye, another brain isn’t such a bad idea.

What’s also very disturbing here is that even when the film is saying something important, it’s surrounded by conventional and corny stuff. Weighted down by cliches, the film often feels tiresome. I don’t enjoy watching Aamir Khan very much. His smugness, didactic finger-wagging irritates me. But here he sheds the moral weight he’s been carrying since Tare Zameen Pe and Satyamev Jayate. There’s a lightness and playfulness to his character that’s touching. In the raw state, as a clean slate, his PK is convincing and charming.

There are interesting aerial shots, and the camera is always in motion. The kabaddi playing boys are not bad either. Only trouble is that all they mutter “kabaddi, kabaddi” in a decidedly third-rate story where the moral victory is, well, a dud.