Review: HATE STORY 4

Funny Dialog Breaks Sleaze

1.5 stars

Mini Review:

The fourth in the ‘Hate’ franchise, this film like its other tales
has lingerie, shaved manly chests, moans and suggestive

hip thrusts, whiny song or two, high heels, pancake

makeup, bearded men who snarl at each other, murders too

and foreign locations… The acting is so poor your nerves

will be jangled. Supposedly erotic, the on screen kisses

will put you off kissing for ever.

Main Review:

Even though it is the fourth in the series, there is practically

nothing erotic about the film except Urvashi Rautela’s dance at

the club to a Himesh Reshammiya’s ‘Aashiq Banaya’ remix. You

suddenly notice her ample samples and thighs clad in leather are

a throwback to old style Bollywood where heroines were well-fed

and had child-bearing hips.

Alas, there’s nothing motherly about this Taasha, who wants to

dream of becoming a ‘sitara’ and I hope she got paid lots of

money for mouthing dialog like, ‘Mahabharata was fought

between brothers because of one woman, I am that Draupadi

between you two brothers!’ and even before you gasp for air

at her poor grasp of mythology, she says, ‘Who did you think

I was, Draupadi? There were five who shared her ‘jism’, you

are two.’

But the stuff for legends is not this. The angry wife who catches

the bearded, shaven chested man one - the husband Aryan

(played by an eternally red-eyed Vivan Bathena who has to do

little but snarl) en flagrante delicto, with has pricelessly funny

dialog: Sheets can be changed, but not the ‘mashooka’ wrapped

in the sheet.

Wait, what?

You mop the spilled coffee off your shirt, and then she adds,

‘I’m the twist in the plot!.’ And then she gets shot.

The second bearded brother Rajveer is a photographer and of

course he cannot contain his manhood in his skinny pants. He

falls smack in love with the statuesque Taasha and imagines the

moans and lingerie and the kisses. You also have to suffer

similar manly bare body and lingerie clad body of wife in a

song sequence doing things that make Homer Simpson chug

down beer look sexier in comparison.

There’s a revenge story embedded in there somewhere, but it

is covered in really bad dialog that defies translation: ‘Tere

warna se darna hota toh main beech mein nahi aata’

Then there’s, ‘I’m somebody that was nobody and know every

thing about my body…’ or something just as intelligent. But who

notices words when there’s women’s bodies to be shown in

various states of undress (I lost count after he pushed the bra

strap off her shoulder for the fifth time). And you fall off the seat

when the end shows the women in pastel chickenkari

embroidered salwaar kameez praying to a dead lad’s picture

when the revenge is complete. The movie is audacious in first

objectifying the women, and ending the film by quoting statistics

about violence against women.

(this review appears on nowrunning dot com)