Chandu (Ram), an engineering student in Bellary is from a joint family with three brothers (Nasser,Tanikella Bharani and Rajaram). He helps his cousin (Tamannaah) to elope with her lover (Navdeep) as the family is strictly opposed against love marriages. Chandu also falls in love with Pooja (Genelia), an NRI who comes to visit her uncles in Rayalaseema. A mistaken identity makes Chandu kidnap Pooja who is all set to get married. The rest of the story is all about how Chandu sends Pooja back to her house and marries her by winning over her family members.

Ram flexes his muscles and dances well and carries the role with consummate ease. The scenes in the second half when he makes Brahmanandam a bakra are entertaining. A vibrant Genelia once again lights up the screen with her bubbly nature. Her dubbing done by Savitha suits her well.

Brahmanandam as McDowell Murthy brings the house down and he has a well-written role.Sunil as 'theda candidate' is also a rocker with his Bharatanatyam spoofs and one-liners. The supporting cast like Jayaprakash Reddy, Kota, Nassar, Sudha and the kid who is JP's grandson are all good. Tamanna and Navadeep have done cameo roles.

Songs and background score by Devi Sri Prasad is good. On the whole, a rib-tickling comedy for the entire family. Go watch it

This Pyar Mein Kabhi Kabhi and Dil Chahta Hai hung-over story has the gang unwittingly getting involved in student politics, even floating a party called the Studds Party. All this to meet a challenge posed by earnest upcoming politician Prakash, who genuinely wants to make a difference but can’t stand the attitude of students who “go from an AC classroom into an AC library”.

Of course, the repercussions of entering the big, bad world of student politics is not thought of, and as the other mainstream student parties show ‘the studds’ a rough time, they decide to beat it. A month-long rural medical service they had enthusiastically booed just a while ago becomes their recourse. The college principal accepts their request to immediately leave and they arrive at the scheduled village, deep in Maharashtra, accompanied by the holiday mood and empty beer cans.

The students are amused at the sarkari guest house, a hopelessly run-down place with no guarantee of water or electricity. But they’re not worried. For proof of their service at the village they intend to bribe the signing authority with a fat sum and vacation for a month in Goa. The dichotomy of the world they come from and the world they are witnessing is brought about in several moments, like when one of them unthinkingly fishes out a Rs 1,000 note and gives it to the caretaker when she asks for money to buy vegetables. Then the five witness a heart-wrenching scene—when a family commits suicide by consuming pesticide and are brought to the local doctor Mukesh Jadhav (Ashutosh Rana, splendid). Appalled at the condition of the hospital, they witness the doctor save two lives without what-they-considered basic essentials like a pair of gloves. From then on, it’s difficult for them to remain nonchalant of the relentless farmer suicides.

Note a poignant scene where Qateel, hailing from a Nawabi background, calls up home to know how they got the land for their new vineyard. “We didn’t forcibly take land from anybody. The farmers could not pay the loans so the land became ours,” shrugged his mother, confused at her son’s uncomfortable curiosity. Jadhav, a closet Marxist, is involved with Shankya Dada’s (Sachin Khederkar) movement to help the villagers adopt the micro credit scheme, an alternate form of money-borrowing at a reasonable rate of interest.

The local moneylender/gunda Wagh (Vikram Gokhale) and his son (Prashant Narayan) are provoked and the police is called to arrest the reformers—insinuating their involvement with the Naxalite movement. So slowly, yes, the five experience an epiphany and the outsiders get involved in the insiders’ problems.

The poignant story is ably supported by effective cinematography (Atarsingh Saini, Goal) and a very interesting background score (Gourov Dasgupta, Dus Kahaniyaan). Yes, the film’s too long and could have cut into the first half to make the story crisper. Performances are impressive—Ashutosh Rana’s rendering of the doctor-next-door and activist takes the film to a new level. Gul Panag needs special mention and Sikander Kher did really well—both characters touch several ranges. Alekh Sangal and Arjan Bajwa are excellent as the over privileged laugh-a-minute students who bump into their conscience unexpectedly. Prashant Narayan plays the cliché of the terrorising moneylender’s son perfectly.

The village set-up is wholly authentic and the local spoken language in chaste Marathi adds an undeniable reality to the proceedings. Perhaps that’s the reason the film manages to get to you and moves you. Some of the scenes especially are effective, like the one where the students learn that the villagers are charged a 40 per cent interest rate, while one of them mentions recently buying a Mercedes on a 12 per cent interest rate.

Humour is a varied sort here—the first half is cornball comedy with lines like: “How do you get fresh with the freshers?”, etc. In the second half, it’s more evolved. The scene where Jadhav is to perform an important surgery and has to coax the operation light on with a little spank is really clever.

The second half carries the flavour of Swades and Rang De Basanti, but just in passing. The film turns unexpectedly dark post-interval, considering the popcorn fluffiness of the former, but that’s in keeping with the characters and their transformation and involvement in the issue. Yes, there are a few implausible touches like the sudden item number, the drama-drenched ending, etc. But by-and-large, debutant director Suhail Tatari starts off wanting to make a point and gets it across dexterously. Recommended viewing for those who enjoy edgy, opinionated filmmaking.

Hrithik Roshan wannabe Nakuul Mehta (the extra ‘u’ is so unkuul) plays Shekhar, a supremely annoying sort who yackety-yaks non-stop. When a girl in a party asks him to sing, he begins strumming a guitar in the very next shot…you get the drift. He also likes making fun of his friend who comes to drop him off at the railway station, calling him fat and ugly, and likes comparing women to a laptop (don’t ask).

Once at the station, he sees a Sanjana Sharma on the passengers list and proclaims that he’ll be sitting next to her and she’ll be the prettiest girl in the entire station (not universe?). Cut to a girl sitting a-la-Kajol, glasses perched on her uppity nose which is buried in a book, with when this bothersome gent goes to her and (is he a psychic or psycho) confidently calls out ‘Sanjana?’. When they finally board the train, of course with seats next to each other, he sticks to her like glue. How she can stand him we’ve no clue.

While on the train, Shekhar teases unknown women with a ‘hi gorgeous’, and help some children who come begging with an impromptu song performance that collects a neat sum. Also, in a scene that can be succinctly described as bizarre, our man jumps off a moving train to collect some salad straight from a field because a Bengali lady co-passenger, whose dialogues are peppered with at least one ‘bhalo’ per sentence, is fasting. He keeps saying ‘magic’ after such deeds and you wonder when he can do a disappearing act. He laughs and smiles so much your jaws hurt just watching, but Sanjana’s beginning to get mildly impressed.

However, in flashbacks, we learn that Sanjana is in love with a Rohit (Adhyayan Suman), who we are told was maha upset with her once when she wouldn’t eat cake on his birthday because it was her Janmashtami fast. But they patched up when he also became a Krishna bhakt and promised to read the Bhagvat Gita. Conveniently, just when she’s beginning to soften towards Shekhar, she misses the train at a station and guess who decides to miss the train as well. Then in true Jab We Met style, Shekhar, whose devotion borders on being creepy, and Sanjana hire a cab to race for the train. A few silly twists make up the rest of the soulless story.

There’s an attempt to incorporate comedy all over but the humour, if one may call it that, comes in the form of situations like Shekhar picking up a bag from a seat and accidentally pulling a commuter’s saree pallu. The scene immortalised by Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge—that of a moving train and a protagonist running after it—has been put to use here, but with not much effect.

Kajol and Ajay Devgan offer solidarity by appearing rather suddenly in a song and disappearing equally abruptly.

Of the cast, Amita Pathak is pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way with lovely eyes. Of the three newcomers, she’s the most restrained and likeable performer, but she needs to shift focus to her styling and looks as well. She plays a fashion designer and wears the most unforgivably unimaginative clothes with out-of-fashion hair. Adhyayan is passable. Nakuul incorporates too much ‘herogiri’ in his mannerisms.

Technically, the film is average. The sound designing is devoid of any ambient sounds, whether the scene is taking place on a road or at a busy railway station. But that’s a given in most of our films rather than the exception. The songs are the highlight of the film and comprise a variety (result of multiple composers) like the soulful title track Haal-e-dil and the danceable Agg lage aaj kal de fashion nu.

The film is a disappointment from the first frame till last. Try their music album instead.

Rajesh Ram Singh directs Khushboo that is intended, I think, to be a bittersweet story about love. Through decades, our makers have tried and tried to tell the same ol’ tale, adding a twist here and there, to refresh and enliven it; but the ploy works only sometimes. Usually when there’s a star at helm. With a new star cast and an old story, the chances of the film likening itself to the audience are already dim.

Yes, in today’s dating and marriage scenario where religion, cast and creed don’t matter much, and our metros are full of smug-marrieds belonging to different backgrounds, the premise of the story is, at once, topical.

So we meet one super-ambitious type Raghu Iyer (Rishi Rehan) who’s all set to make his dream-life in America. But he’s to make a six-month detour stop in Chandigarh. And no prizes for guessing what happens there. He meets Punjabi kudi Pinky (Avantikka, another fan of the letter K) a photography enthusiast, if you please, who’s bubblier than soda and jumpier than jellybeans. She keeps appearing, disappearing and re-appearing wasting precious time and film reel.

Ultimately the two bump into each other and have a one-night-stand (quite adventurous, so far). Soon, we learn that she’s pregnant and wants to keep the baby. Now Raghu must accompany her to her village and meet her big, boisterous Punjabi family (a seemingly recent Bollywood cliché). The inevitable happens—a bond is formed between Raghu and the family and he is now in a dilemma. The couple eventually marries and further comedy ensues when Raghu’s south Indian parents meet the Punjabi bride.

Yawning reading the story already? Understandable as you’ve seen this plot spread thin in several films like Jab We Met, DDLJ, Namastey London and hey, you can even note snatches from A Walk in the Clouds (1995).

Technically, the film is alright. Of the cast, Avantikka stands out as the one with most zing and pizzazz. With a more steady-handed director she could deliver a decent performance. Dialogue is tryingly clichéd; screenplay plays it linear and safe. Adnan Sami’s music is above average (but faces serious competition from some superb film music off-late). Production value looks a bit outdated compared to the blindingly stunning visual quotient in our current films.

This week’s releases have been a mixed bag and if one must compare, Khushboo is a far better watch than Haal-e-Dil (which is not saying much), but not half as funny and fresh as De Taali.

Rating: One-and-a-half stars