Cast: Randeep
Hooda, Aditi Rao Hydari, Sara Loren
Director: Vishesh Bhatt
Rating: Two stars
What a wild life! A budding photographer clicks zebras, chimps, tigers. And wowee, he suddenly graduates to lensing hot models with hotter snakes. The rest is hissstory.
Truly 'Murder 3' -- a franchise dependent on sex, booze and corpses -- creates history of sorts. It’s the first murder movie without a murder. No lethal stabs, gunfire, poison-laced liquids or strangulations – the staples of killer mysteries here. An adaptation of the Spanish mind-bender, 'The Hidden Face,' it’s directed by first-timer Vishesh Bhatt, with sufficient technical know-how. But that’s it. The camera placements and tempo may be cool, but the storyline is as incredible as vibgyor-striped zebras.
Sorry to say, the adaptation just doesn’t fit into an Indian milieu, hingeing as it does upon an antique door constructed – better believe this -- soon after the Jallianwalla Bagh massacre. Kick it, bang on it, pummel it -- despite its age, it doesn’t creak or make a whisper of a sound. A triumph of British Raj technology, truly this door’s worth being mentioned in the Guinness Book of World Records. By the way, In 'The Hidden Face,' this wonder door was traced to the World War II era. Strange things happen.
In fact, the producers – the prolific Bhatt Brothers -- could have more appropriately titled their endeavour Magic Darwaza, but have chosen to shoe-horn it into their 'Murder' series. A wrong decision because at the end of two hours or so, you’re left totally perplexed. Why is the material so tame and tiresome? Where’s the dripping blood promised in the posters? What’s the malarkey about anyway?
Scratch your head and you might just find out why the glam-sham photographer Vikram (Randeep Hooda) behaves the way he does. He falls in love before you can utter the four-letter world, and whisks fashion model Roshni (Aditi Rao Hyder) away from Capetown to the Mumbai outskirts. He’s into the kissing business majorly but cannot quite achieve the artistry of good ole Emraan Hashmi. Anyway, Vikram and Roshni settle into a suburban mansion, away from the ‘shor gul’ of the city. Bliss?
Hardly. Dear, hyper-jealous Roshni suspects Vikram of being unfaithful with his wine-quaffing stylist, learns about the magic door and intends to spy on his boudoir shenanigans. Alas and alack, she drops the door-key in a potted plant (or something resembling that) and is firmly locked inside. Initially pleased that he’s upset about her absence, she grinds her teeth when he brings home his new squeeze, a cocktail waitress called Nisha (Loren). No surnames necessary.
From the door’s miraculous glasspane, Roshni can see that her bed’s usurped by Nisha, but is resilent enough to survive for days and weeks without boiled water and absolutely no food. Attagal!
Next: you don’t really want to know. Suffice it to say that the two young women – on both sides of the door – establish contact, thanks to a cooperative toilet plumbing system. Meanwhile, two cops keep returning like bad pennies to glare at the poker-faced photographer. The senior cop even vanishes, presumably to a more challenging assignment. Oddly enough, the junior cop imitates the acting style of Manoj Kumar. A first. And oh yes, there’s a British lady who shows up now and then, before catching a flight to Heathrow. Why does she quit India? “I have aged,” she explains with ruthless honesty.
The screenplay is so convoluted that you keep looking longingly at the multiplex’s exit door, but stick on strictly in the line of duty. And Eureka! To be fair, the communication scene of Roshni and Nisha through that plumbing system, does whip up an element of suspense. Other plus factors: the plush set décor and the outdoor locations of Capetown photographed slickly by cameraman Sunil Patel.
The Vishesh Films banner, associated with top-class music soundtracks, doesn’t deliver anything to sing home about. Raju Singh’s background riffs are at least easy on the ear buds.
Of the cast, the usually bankable Randeep Hooda, in a thankless role, is strictly teakwood. Aditya Rao Hydari and Sara Loren have the right, cosmeticised, eye-candy looks but in terms of acting, let’s just say ‘no comments.’
By the way, why make Ms Hydari take on Kangana Ranaut’s patented frizzy hair-style? And like it or not, Ms Sara Loren (Bollywood name for Pakistani actress Mona Lizza) is styled, if that’s the right word, like Esha Gupta. Or should that be Angelina Jolie?
Bottomwhine: if the Murder series is to continue, here’s a serious suggestion – bring Emraan Hashmi back. Hooda just doesn’t match up to his bedside manners.
Director: Vishesh Bhatt
Rating: Two stars
What a wild life! A budding photographer clicks zebras, chimps, tigers. And wowee, he suddenly graduates to lensing hot models with hotter snakes. The rest is hissstory.
Truly 'Murder 3' -- a franchise dependent on sex, booze and corpses -- creates history of sorts. It’s the first murder movie without a murder. No lethal stabs, gunfire, poison-laced liquids or strangulations – the staples of killer mysteries here. An adaptation of the Spanish mind-bender, 'The Hidden Face,' it’s directed by first-timer Vishesh Bhatt, with sufficient technical know-how. But that’s it. The camera placements and tempo may be cool, but the storyline is as incredible as vibgyor-striped zebras.
Sorry to say, the adaptation just doesn’t fit into an Indian milieu, hingeing as it does upon an antique door constructed – better believe this -- soon after the Jallianwalla Bagh massacre. Kick it, bang on it, pummel it -- despite its age, it doesn’t creak or make a whisper of a sound. A triumph of British Raj technology, truly this door’s worth being mentioned in the Guinness Book of World Records. By the way, In 'The Hidden Face,' this wonder door was traced to the World War II era. Strange things happen.
In fact, the producers – the prolific Bhatt Brothers -- could have more appropriately titled their endeavour Magic Darwaza, but have chosen to shoe-horn it into their 'Murder' series. A wrong decision because at the end of two hours or so, you’re left totally perplexed. Why is the material so tame and tiresome? Where’s the dripping blood promised in the posters? What’s the malarkey about anyway?
Scratch your head and you might just find out why the glam-sham photographer Vikram (Randeep Hooda) behaves the way he does. He falls in love before you can utter the four-letter world, and whisks fashion model Roshni (Aditi Rao Hyder) away from Capetown to the Mumbai outskirts. He’s into the kissing business majorly but cannot quite achieve the artistry of good ole Emraan Hashmi. Anyway, Vikram and Roshni settle into a suburban mansion, away from the ‘shor gul’ of the city. Bliss?
Hardly. Dear, hyper-jealous Roshni suspects Vikram of being unfaithful with his wine-quaffing stylist, learns about the magic door and intends to spy on his boudoir shenanigans. Alas and alack, she drops the door-key in a potted plant (or something resembling that) and is firmly locked inside. Initially pleased that he’s upset about her absence, she grinds her teeth when he brings home his new squeeze, a cocktail waitress called Nisha (Loren). No surnames necessary.
From the door’s miraculous glasspane, Roshni can see that her bed’s usurped by Nisha, but is resilent enough to survive for days and weeks without boiled water and absolutely no food. Attagal!
Next: you don’t really want to know. Suffice it to say that the two young women – on both sides of the door – establish contact, thanks to a cooperative toilet plumbing system. Meanwhile, two cops keep returning like bad pennies to glare at the poker-faced photographer. The senior cop even vanishes, presumably to a more challenging assignment. Oddly enough, the junior cop imitates the acting style of Manoj Kumar. A first. And oh yes, there’s a British lady who shows up now and then, before catching a flight to Heathrow. Why does she quit India? “I have aged,” she explains with ruthless honesty.
The screenplay is so convoluted that you keep looking longingly at the multiplex’s exit door, but stick on strictly in the line of duty. And Eureka! To be fair, the communication scene of Roshni and Nisha through that plumbing system, does whip up an element of suspense. Other plus factors: the plush set décor and the outdoor locations of Capetown photographed slickly by cameraman Sunil Patel.
The Vishesh Films banner, associated with top-class music soundtracks, doesn’t deliver anything to sing home about. Raju Singh’s background riffs are at least easy on the ear buds.
Of the cast, the usually bankable Randeep Hooda, in a thankless role, is strictly teakwood. Aditya Rao Hydari and Sara Loren have the right, cosmeticised, eye-candy looks but in terms of acting, let’s just say ‘no comments.’
By the way, why make Ms Hydari take on Kangana Ranaut’s patented frizzy hair-style? And like it or not, Ms Sara Loren (Bollywood name for Pakistani actress Mona Lizza) is styled, if that’s the right word, like Esha Gupta. Or should that be Angelina Jolie?
Bottomwhine: if the Murder series is to continue, here’s a serious suggestion – bring Emraan Hashmi back. Hooda just doesn’t match up to his bedside manners.
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