It is several steps ahead of Kumar’s other recent January releases, Baby (2015) and Special 26 (2013), and deserves all the box-office it can get. The bar has been raised and it’s about bloody time.

Wazir is a con job, endeavouring to show us layers that it chooses to do almost nothing with.

This Movie Sucks, And We’re All To Blame For Its Existence

Bajirao Mastani is a loud, clunky melodrama that is largely interested in providing derivative cinematic thrills whilst pretending to be lyrical and meditative. That said, however, it is also often visually-arresting and romantic enough to sustain interest.

Angry Indian Goddesses arrives with audience awards from Toronto and Rome, and it’s easy to see why an international audience would appreciate this film. It presents India’s gender issues on a platter to them, which is congruent with what they read; it’s the same reason acclaimed films set in Africa often happen to be about genocide and extreme poverty.

Like most of his films, it ultimately boils down to whether you buy his brand of movie romance, where journeys and conversations often turn out to be irreversibly life-changing. Tamasha isn’t perfect, but it has heart and a sincerity of intent that sets it apart from many other films we’ve seen this year.

Titli ties everything up with a somewhat contrived, fairy-tale-ish ending, but at least the packaging is satisfyingly gritty. In other words, it’s like a plate of chicken curry in which the gravy is delicious, but the pieces don’t have as much meat as they should.

Shaandaar isn’t entirely unbearable — at least it saves itself from descending to Welcome Back-level garbage status courtesy a few performances.

I have no doubt that this movie will do well at the box-office, which means that we can expect this to turn into a franchise that employs lesser-known, largely mediocre actors and uses misogyny as its Khan. To paraphrase Neil Armstrong, that’s one small step for Lokhandwala’s economy, and one giant leap backward for womankind (not to mention cinema).

Jazbaa is yet another testament to commercial Hindi cinema’s obsession with impact over intent, which leads to making films that they think will earn money via razzmatazz and star power, as opposed to adhering to the basics of screenwriting, acting, and direction.

In other words, it’s a perfect addition to Gupta’s checkered oeuvre.