At times, it gives you a splitting migraine. At other times, it turns you into a hard-boiled cynic. At still other times, it pushes you towards philosophy.
A bad film stinks. Agreed. But it is powerful, nonetheless. It can do all of the above and much more. My love affair with miserable movies continues. This time, it triggered the hog in me. It took approximately one bag of popcorn, two chocolate donuts, one sev puri and a cappuccino to wash down Aksar.
Some films are nothing but products, and the makers don't waste any time selling them. Without delay, Aksar immediately opens with Hindi film's resident kissing specialist, Emraan Hashmi and his semi-clad muse (Udita Goswami) making out against the backdrop of an abandoned mill.
Whoa, that was only a teaser? What really happens is Hashmi plays Ricky, a fashion photographer with a tragic sense of dressing. The playboy and his polygamous ways are enough to transform model cum actress Sheena Roy into a raging bull. He is also responsible for hurting best friend Nisha's (Tara Sharma, insipid as ever, in a special appearance) feelings.
Director Anant Narayan Mahadevan realises audiences have had enough of witnessing Hashmi's over active on-screen sex life. So, he redrafts the script and fast-forwards the story three years ahead. Shrimati Sheena Roy is now Manchester-based businessman Rajveer Singh's (Dino Morea) lawfully wedded wife. Furious as ever, this desi Carrie continues to horse around snipping Versace creations and banging flower vases at the slightest provocation, "To hell with Versace, Sheena Roy jo pahenti hai, wohi style hota hai."(To hell with Versace, Sheena Roy has the last word on fashion). Rajveer coaxes Ricky into having a no holds barred affair with Sheena so he can divorce his crazy half. Can't blame him now, can you?
For a very long time -- two and half hours, to be precise -- I contemplated whether she suffered from some serious psychological disorder. I never found out. Mahadevan simply didn't say.
It looks as if Mahadevan found crumpled pages of his old draft and decided to subject us to Hashmi's stereotype steaminess yet again. Distasteful lip locks and marathon bedroom sessions find a release in Himesh Reshammiya's catchy score.
Expectedly, Rajveer catches his wife and lover red-handed. Only here, the wife is coolly unapologetic. Her tit for tat logic: you cheat me, I cheat you. Open marriages, anyone?
Now this is a Mahadevan original. I wonder who else would want to be credited with such a foolhardy imagination. Absurdity is the order of the day as Rajveer and Ricky simultaneously realise they are both in love with Sheena. Which means another Reshammiya number has found a situation to squeeze into.
All this while, you think (read pray) you are getting close to the climax. But Mahadevan won't let you budge. He'll bump off one protagonist, then shove a whodunit down your throat. It takes around 12 dreary scenes before Reshammiya's grand title track shows up with the end credits.
Mahadevan's shoddy direction is reciprocated with equal fervour by his floppy cast. Emraan Hashmi's acting is limited to two expressions. One, where he pouts to kiss and the other where he smirks after the deed is done. Close body shots of Udita Goswami assure her toned midriff and miscellaneous assets get optimum exposure. Then again, an hourglass figure is hardly a substitute for a bland performance. Dino Morea appears lost in this circus. There is too much of a cool dude ingrained in his persona, which makes all the filmi aristocracy look fabricated.
I made my point very early in the review. I reiterate: It took approximately one bag of popcorn, two chocolate donuts, one sev puri and one cappuccino to wash down Aksar. I rest my case.