Hindustan Times

Ab Hoga Hisaab feels stretched beyond its limits.

The core problem is that this feels less like a film and more like an extended ‘maha episode’ of a daily soap. The format that works in short bursts on television struggles to sustain interest over a two-hour runtime. The first half runs out of steam quickly, and the humour, which thrives on repetition in a 20-minute episode, becomes tiring when stretched across a feature film. The double-meaning jokes, mildly cheeky on television, feel overdone here. The film even dusts off fart jokes, a form of comedy that feels long past its expiry date. While the familiar characters manage to extract the occasional chuckle, neither the writing nor the one-liners are sharp enough to carry the film.

The second half is where my feelings about the film turn conflicted. While the idea of exploring the war through the lens of all three uniformed services is genuinely novel, the execution of the war itself is average at best. The budget and VFX are spent on expanding scale, but that becomes part of the problem. There is simply too much of it. The beats feel familiar, and in places, repetitive. We have seen this grammar of war cinema before. The climax, however, pulls the film back from the brink and redeems much of what precedes it, which means patience post-intermission is rewarded.

But wait. There is a film here. A genuinely interesting one, buried somewhere between the cringe-filled beginning and the exhausting end. Whenever Chand Mera Dil shifts its focus to life after the honeymoon phase, it comes alive. The moment the conflict kicks in, the film pulls you in and surprises you with genuinely solid drama. The second half thus begins on a promising note. And then the makers get carried away, seemingly unaware that the film is entering its climax with an almost empty fuel tank. Lakshya delivers a genuinely sincere performance in a role that demands a great deal emotionally. When he breaks down on screen, the anguish seems real. But what’s a love story without chemistry? Locking lips, unfortunately, is not enough. Ananya Panday emerges as the weaker link here.

Overall, perhaps the biggest issue with Cocktail 2 is that it constantly reminds you of a better film. The original Cocktail was messy too, but it had heart and characters you cared about. This spiritual successor has the gloss, the glamour, but not the emotional punch. Some drinks are best served once.

What does work, then, are some light-hearted moments, more of them in the second half. The chemistry between Avinash and Medha is passable. Avinash seems more at ease in this setup, while Medha’s character required a bit more spark. Nonetheless, the two play their parts sincerely. Sudhir Pande as Sunny’s father and Vishwanath Chatterjee as his brother add the much-needed humour. The dialogues, by Prasshant himself, are good. By the time it wraps up, Ginny Wedss Sunny 2 feels less like a story that evolves and more like one that circles back to where it began. Its biggest limitation isn’t predictability, but the dated lens through which it views its characters. And yet, there are fleeting stretches where the film is easy to watch, almost in spite of itself. You don’t walk out moved or surprised, but not entirely disengaged either,

Sometimes ambition is not enough. Even good intent is not enough to salvage a story that does not know its own pulse. Such is the case with the new SonyLiv series Jazz City. From the large, expansive frames to the many little paths this story takes to navigate a turbulent time of national importance, I see how much has gone into making the show. But that does not help its case, or for creator Soumik Sen, as the show remains inert despite its full-blown capacity, incurious despite all the concoction of different factors, and mostly, out of depth even with so much space to fill. Jazz City holds promise, but it seems like that is everything it can hold after all.

On paper, Kartavya, also written by Pulkit, has all the ingredients of a gripping emotional drama. Yet somewhere between it's political intrigue and caste commentary, the film struggles to make you truly invest in it's characters. It begins on an intriguing note, drawing you into Pawan’s race against time and the question of how he will track down the culprits on the run. As the narrative progresses, the beats become increasingly predictable. Two major factors hold the film back. First is the antagonist, Anand Shri, who doesn't leave the impact the story wants him to. His henchmen repeatedly build him up as a terrifying force, but the audience rarely gets to feel that menace. Apart from a couple of dialogue-heavy scenes, the character remains distant and underwhelming.

The climax is nothing to write home about. Yet, the film finds its strength elsewhere. An actor as charming as Madhuri Dixit seamlessly into Rekha’s world. Ironically, the very beauty that has been celebrated for decades in real life becomes a burden for her character, something that invites gossip in a small-town setting. It’s a clever touch, and one that feeds directly into the film’s most effective turn towards the end, lending the story an emotional resonance that lingers beyond the laughs.

Ultimately, Mardaani 3 may not reinvent the franchise, but it reinforces why it matters. Even when it treads familiar ground and doesn’t quite land all its twists, the film remains anchored by the sheer authority of Rani Mukerji’s Shivani, a screen presence that still cuts through noise. I am giving an extra half star for what gives this chapter its continued relevance- its refusal to look away from crimes against women and children. It treats the subject not as spectacle but as a grim, ongoing reality that demands accountability. This chapter works less as a shock and more as a statement of continuity. Mardaani 3 may not be the sharpest entry in the series, but it is a sobering reminder that Shivani’s fight, much like the crimes it confronts, is far from over.

This film simply would not have landed had the cast not been this good. Ayushmann Khurrana gets the pitch of Mudassar’s comedy perfectly, and half the time, it’s his expressions alone that draw a chuckle from the viewer. Rakul Preet Singh gets room to experiment here, and fits into this quirky world. Wamiqa Gabbi proves that she has a flair for comedy, while also sharing believable chemistry with Ayushmann. Sara Ali Khan holds her own and delivers a confident performance.

In the end, Rahu Ketu remains an interesting idea that never quite finds its footing. Despite a quirky premise, the film mistakes chaos for comedy. What could have been a sharp fantasy instead turns into an exercise in excess, leaving you more exhausted than entertained.

Overall, Raja Shivaji is a film that commands respect more than it commands engagement. The intent is noble, the scale undeniable. But for all it's visual grandeur, it doesn’t translate into a consistent, gripping cinematic experience. It soars in parts, especially towards the end. But as a whole, it remains a spectacle that you admire more than you feel.

But things start moving ahead in the plot only when the education department holds out a big carrot: If the school manages to perform a miracle by getting into one of the top ten schools in Delhi based on the tenth standard board examinations results, then both the principal and his wife get to go to Cambridge University for an all-expenses paid training course. It is not because of any newly acquired idealism that Gyaneshwar suddenly gets motivated; it is because of an emotional need to provide his suffering wife, Sushma (Prachee Shah), the opportunity of a foreign visit. For doing the impossible, he needs to motivate a bunch of imperfect, underpaid teachers and deal with the constant interference of a local politician, Goldy (Deven Bhojani), and his vengeful assistant, Urmila (Archana Puran Singh).

The alliances add a strategic element, but the manufactured rivalries and predictable reality-show tropes prevent it from feeling truly fresh.

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