There are some laugh-out-loud moments when the screenplay plummets to the absolute depths of Bollywood inanity. Apart from such moments of hilarity, “Hate Story 3” has absolutely nothing going for it.

Hate Story 3 is a small-budget thriller that’s designed with the specific idea of catering to the needs of its audience. With the right amount of oomph and risqué content, you can laugh all the way to the bank. Perhaps it doesn’t matter that those paying money won’t be as amused.

The Hate Story movies, due to their box office success, have become a legit series now. This wouldn’t have been as troubling had these films been good erotica, but they are, at best, bland potboilers. It may not say a lot about these films, but it does say something about us: How repressed are we? Now that’s not an easy question to answer.

Hate Story 3 adds up to zilch. If there is anything I’ve said so far that might for a moment suggest that this film has ANY redeeming factors, let me say it loud and clear here: it does not.

On the whole, Hate Story 3 is a very ordinary and routine fare but it definitely has skin show and intimate scenes to lure the masses and youngsters to the cinemas in the first weekend. Given its lovely start, it will prove to be above-average.

Things get way too predictable with twists and turns that are a yawn. The dialogue is cringeworthy with archaic gems like “Kab tak bekasoor auraton ke aanchal ke peeche chhupta rahega” (How long will you hide behind an innocent woman). If you were to take the film seriously then women who possess brains along with beauty are dangerous. The plot, incidentally, is Maggi-inspired. How?

There simply isn’t enough here for 131 minutes. Sharman Joshi looks pained throughout at the prospect of having to profess undying love for Zarine Khan, deal with Daisy Shah’s incompetence, and pretend that Grover is a dastardly villain.