Kick: Backfired Warsaw Pact

Given Salman Khan’s incredible screen presence, what could be more tragic that the fact that his films don’t tell stories – good or bad is another question. In recent times, Kabir Khan’s Ek Tha Tiger was the only mass entertainer that made great use of the Salman trump card. Sadly Kick is not even in the Dabaang league which helps you condone every glitch to reel in the hypnotic effect of the unique Salman experience. Worse, it’s Jai Ho revisited in scenic Poland with almost equally ghastly ingredients, what if only a shade better and bearable. And yet every time Bhai looms large (and he does every two minutes), we feel like discounting his pathetic choice of no-brainers. Sad that we can’t!

Bhai, we have always supported your cause. Your success means a lot to us. Your no-brainers are endearing if not enduring, far better than the commercial disasters of the conceited tribe which loves to label you pedestrian. We would still go with your kick than suffer the wrath of the forgettable Bullet Rajas, pitiable Villains, ridiculous Ram Leelas, brazen Besharams, fake Barfis and humdrum Dhooms. Given a choice, we would tune in to your innocuous media bytes, not the overbearing sermons of Kashyaps, Basus, Bhansalis and Bharadwajs. Yes, you are an enigmatic heartthrob (dil me aata hu, samajh me nahi) but why should your films bear the same trademark. And look who’s cashing in on your name? A dead wood from Sri Lanka whose face is excellent raw material for carving out durable furniture, a five point someone writer who’s gone berserk with his nauseating newspaper columns and a grandson producer who’s financed his directorial hankerings ahead of his film. 

A review of kick is futile. A few statutory warnings should suffice:

• Madam Fernandes is a psychiatrist who believes in conducting live therapy sessions at the location of the patient’s choice. A gyrating dance is an integral part of the treatment.
• Inspector Hooda continues his Once upon a time in Mumbai act – clumsy, apologetic and clueless – all in one.
• Nawazuddin Siddiqui works overtime to prove his mainstream viability and is reduced to a wheezing joke in the process.
• Saurabh Shukla is at his repulsive best erasing the fact that he was the endearing Kallu mama of Satya.
• Retrograde amnesia, Bollywood’s pet disorder, is back to bother us again – almost in Jab Tak Jai Jaan fashion
• Beware: You’ll have to sustain a few ghastly-n-ghostly guest appearance wounds – Nargis Fakhri’s clownish item number, ‘Byomkesh Bakshi’ Rajit Kapur as a distraught doctor, Archana Puran Singh as Bhai’s mom and Mithunda as Bhai’s Go-to man, we mean Go dada err Go daddy. If you time your rest room visits judiciously, you could still escape unharmed.

Bhai, we suffered your kick for your sake. But when are you meeting Kabir Khan next? For our sake…or better still, convince your dad to pen your next project. That would be God sent for all of us.