#Befikre : The Horney err the Delhi
boy meets the Parisan girl of Indian
origin , they passionately locked lips , dared bare their animal instinct ,
unleashed themselves on each other and got onto the bed .They fell in lust and kept on repeating it. Our boy, with any girl
he could lay his hands on. And the commitment phobic girl had already had her
share of escapades in the past. Nothing wrong with that. The society has
evolved and rightly so, over the last couple of decades. The hero, who would have waited for the heroine’s
father to allow his daughter to marry him, doesn’t beat an eye lid now while
informing her parents casually about their decision to live in. The heroine who
would have waited for his hero to “ Palat” , just to get a confirmation of his
love is now content with checking out his ass.
Nothing wrong. It’s just that ,as an audience, you get bored to death waiting for the story
to progress, some chemistry to develop, while Emran Hashmi must be cringing in
this bed.
The problem with Befikre is, it
is pretentious and superficial. It takes the audience for a ride. It doesn’t dare
to go beyond the convention. Behind its
effort to portray an evolved society lies a camouflaged conservatism. Hence the
gay jokes, the lesbian references. Not for a moment it makes us believe that
Dharam & Shreya would continue to be just friends after break up.
Chopra
delivers a dud that neither connects at emotional level, nor becomes successful
in titillating in spite of its generous does of “Labon Ka Karobaar”. The
narration is boring, the screen play is wafer thin and the story ... well they
had a sensational superstar as lead actor, a girl to go under the knife to look
French (really!) , 70 crores to spend and Yashraj Banner .
To his credit, Ranvir does try to
butt his way to your heart with lots of steroid driven exuberance. Vani Kapoor
also takes off whatever she had to try and keep you invested in the film or at
least in her or her french. But alas in the absence of a story everything falls
flat. It is only the foot tapping numbers and the shots of Paris that act as
saving grace.
The film starts with the concept
that in France people kiss a lot and ends with promoting carefree Kissing. In between
though, lots of shit happens, on repeat mode, inside the sheet and the theatre.
So you stay Befikre.
You survived demonetization.
You survived standing in the queue for hours and days to withdraw your own money.
But then surviving these 130 minutes can be too much for you. Unless you would
like to watch Paris on a 70 mm screen , unless you are fascinated by Ranvir’s
butt , unless soft porn is your definition of a classic , stay away, far away. I will go out with 1 out
of 5 for an extremely stupid film.
There are very few films where I contemplate
walking out of the theatre mid way, last evening I was Befikre and walked out.
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