He’s back, and he’s a burn-out this time around.

Bombay Velvet tries to be a classic fable. It would have been, if Kashyap had focussed on writing his film as he does on set design. Pardon the cliche, but that is the film’s epic flaw.

The film tells a rather predictable story, with the sex tape factor coming into play merely as a tool to trigger off the chain of events that comprises the narrative.

The film ends up a clumsy attempt at entertaining, almost like those pirated prints of brand new releases that local cablewallahs would often telecast on the sly in a bid to retain subscriber base.

Stronger writing could still have redeemed the plot but Singham Returns moves from a laboured first half to a lifeless second. Sporadic shots at drama are drowned by the film’s preachy tone. No attempt is made to understand just what the black money problem is all about. Rohit Shetty better stick to making nonsensical films. They sure make more sense than his sensible ones.

It would be wrong to say Humshakals is an irrelevant film. It takes mainstream Bollywood comedy to its lowest level yet. Look at the brighter side. May be things can’t get worse than this in the future.

The film ends up a hagiographic bundle of confusion – the usual trap that biopics often fall into. That’s sad, given the enigmatic character it set out to portray. Grace Of Monaco is a cold and beautiful saga.

If anything, it works for him unwittingly in the stray comic scenes.

Watch Highway for Alia and Randeep if you must. For a two-film-old, Alia’s screen presence is incredible. She gets every nuance, every energetic burst and trauma about Veera just perfect. If there is an element of the fragile about her beauty, Ali has tapped it well.

The film does not leave you with a single memorable scene despite its loud effort to impress. Prabhu Dheva clearly loses track of his own film early on. The first half is a jumble and the second seems too long.