Director: Suneel Darshan, PG, 135mins

Stars: Bobby Deol, Upen Patel, Kangana Ranaut, Celina Jaitley

on selected release

With the exception of its catchy title, there is little in this homage to Amadeus (1984) which will rock you. This gimmicky film updates the rivalry portrayed in the original between an established artist and his younger more talented rival to the pop NRI (Non Resident Indian) world of New York.

AJ (Bobby Deol) is the reigning but insecure superstar who falls instantly in hate with Reggie (Upen Patel), a struggling wanna-be, who appears to be the more gifted musician. This hatred is intensified when AJ’s muse Ruhi (Kangana Ranaut) dumps him for Reggie. AJ hatches a plan to sabotage Reggie’s career: he befriends him in order to destroy him.

Told in flashback with numerous split-screen montages and MTV-style editing, the film aspires to be a quirky psychological study of a flawed musical genius tormented by professional and sexual jealously. It is a doomed attempt as Darshan displays little understanding of or insight neither into the complex material he is attempting to emulate nor indeed of the basic rules of coherent filmmaking.

Johannesburg, where most of the movie was filmed, is passed off as New York. Jaitley’s scantily clad character Sheena appears only to sing songs, whilst Anupam Kher as Reggie’s Indian dad, pops out from nowhere and then dies. Darshan also borrows sequences from recent Hindi and Hollywood movies (Karan Johar’s Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna, Jim Carrey’s Liar Liar, and 1970s Hum Kisise Kum Naheen) and inserts them at random into the narrative.

All of the foregoing would not matter – this is a masala movie after all – if the stylistic confused proceedings were mildly plausible. “I know how to handle any kind of man,” AJ leers at the adoring Reggie who replies, “If you can, I’ll be your slave.” They lock themselves up in his flat, refuse to see visitors and venture out only to go shopping for designer clothes.

When Reggie realises that AJ is not the close buddy that he thought he was, he falls into a coma. AJ plagiarises and performs Reggie’s work but an overhead disco ball falls on his head causing serious injury. In one of the most bizarre endings in Bollywood history, the climax is a dream sequence in which the now deaf AJ is traumatised (raped?) by a naked troll.

Deol’s laughable acting is one note: he conveys angst by frowning. British Asian Patel fares better and his dirty dancing is a boon. Himesh Reshammiya’s repetitive songs, sung in his distinctive nasal twang, adds some spark but do not expect anything in the Mozart Requiem class.

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