Friday, February 21, 2014

Darr @ TheMall

half star

Bored At The Mall

Mini Review:

Not horror, but it's a crime to make such a boringly predictable movie. Re-runs of saas bahu serials are more interesting.

Main Review:

So ghosts have killed nine random people at a mall. It is shut for a few months and the owners will reopen again without investigating why or how... So they have a party (yes, at the mall) with phoren girls (one of the characters actually says, 'Sir, ek bees minute ka item number bhi hai) 
dressed in skimpy costumes gyrating suggestively and singing, 'Pina Colaaaaadaaaa!' (really? that's what people are drinking these days?)

a standard ugly attempt at sex (a young man frantically groping phoren female as though she might vanish any minute with orgasmic sounds that look silly when you realise all their clothes are on and they were just... ugh!) happens and that man dies horribly by ghosts who seem to like to not make a clean kill but like gruesome.

Now gruesome is fine because they made an effort to pay some prostheics guy to create melting due to burning make up effects. So far so good. But why were the mannequins partially burned? If the ghosts died in a fire, wouldn't they want to stay away from it? why would they burn mannequins partially?

You ask such questions because people just don't die quickly enough. 

And if it is a horror film, then people need to die horribly and one after the other. It's tedious to see doors opening on their own, ghosts laugh ad giggle, ghoulish faces going splat on glass (Aren't ghosts formless? They run through people, but not glass doors? Where's the logic in that?)

You want to catch a nap, but a comment on the special sound effects of the main ghost (the crackling, sizzling and burning) makes you snort your carbonated drink: Is the ghost getting a tadka? 

While you are coughing and laughing, they characters in the movie still haven't figured out why so many burnt ghosts are chasing them. 

You sing, 'burning down the house!' quite inappropriately under your breath and begin to text your friends about dinner plans. Characters in the movie are now dying in tandoors and crawling about in extra large ventilation ducts. The movie is still uninteresting. You begin to admire the earnestness with which Jimmy Sheirgill plays out his part. You laugh for the last time at the overacting by the nun (i did prefer her partially burned avatar) and you nod at your neighbor assuring each other that we are still breathing.

Then someone mentions that another 'horror' flick is to release this week. You go home and watch Purana Mandir or even Zibahkhana again. And curse yourself for having laughed at these movies when you were kids.

p.s. The movie is so boring, I fell asleep three times trying to write this review





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