It’s far from Varma’s best work, but it’s not entirely unwatchable.

All we are left with is the detritus, of the body, and a film that could have delved into the minds of those whose lives unravel when a crime of passion occurs.

This is a film made in bad taste, and — with apologies to Mr Capote — in old blood.

Moving images can cause a genuine migraine to some. At least the ones in this film could.

When Not A Love Story started, it seemed like it was a bad film so enjoyable that it could be recommended. But soon, you realise that this kind of skullduggery wouldn’t be advisable for anyone. As the low-held Canon 5D follows Mahie Gill’s bosom, or is placed strategically below her legs, you are sickened by the desperate attempt at titillation.

On the whole, Not A Love Story has limited appeal. It is more for the classes, that too in the big cities, than for the masses. It has curiosity value more than entertainment value and although its biggest plus point is its limited budget, it lacks the merits to score at the box-office.