Race - last one out of the cinema hall is a monkey

Race is a movie of twosomes. A pair of fratricidal brothers, two dolled up, bloodthirsty women and a dull detective duo. This along with a bad side and a boring side. Abbas-Mustan's latest venture, which starts off in pole-position, with an interesting script only leaves quite the skid mark all in the wrong places.
What connects them all? Why their love for money of course, no Ram-Lakhan or Laila-Majnu scene happening here. All this set in the backdrop of a horse-racing empire, there are two horse races in the first 10 minutes and none after.
Saif is the older, assured elder, head honcho and Akshaye is the younger sot, tired of playing second fiddle all the time. The plot thickens with one hatches a plot to bump off the other for the insurance claims, but thins out since everybody bumps into each others buns ever so often, with several poorly timed songs with spine-busting choreography. All set in in Durban, South Africa.
As one hacks through cliched dialogues and philosophical and devilishly charming one-liners all heard before, one wonders why they would even need the money, Saif owns a prestigious stud farm and cheats to win horse races and blows away treacherous jockeys. Akshaye drinks beer for breakfast and they all have 007 gadgets at their disposal. Such is the opulence that the brothers change expensive cars more often than MLAs shift political loyalties.
Amidst this swirling family maelstrom are three damsels, each playing their own diabolical part to imperfection. Kaif is Saif's secretary with love in her eyes and burgeoning dialogue delivery skills, Bipasha Basu is the supermodel reincarnation of Nefertiti, with enough kohl in her eyes to rival the dead queen and Sameera, sigh, Sameera. All three seem draped in a spastic designer's tanturms.
Enter Mr. India himself as a detective in the second half after one sibling dies mysteriously. Kapoor sprouts a new look, dual earrings and several lines on his face, which mirth did not cause. Kapoor hounds the live brother suspecting foul play and eating fruit all the time. A characteristic quirk for laughter relief. Not the first time a quirk is used, but the first time fruit actually causes gas.
There are more twists in the plot than on a screw driver, but the execution at best is boring. There were times when the movie actually surprises you with a 180 degree shift, but that is offset with the above mentioned songs. The camera work is slick at times and some locales quite breath-taking, but no major effort needed there, South Africa is that way.
The car chase scenes are typical; hastened on computers, with mindless, illogical explosions. No sci-fi explanations given. The lesser mention of the songs the better.

Race is for crash test dummies.

Laudable: Katrina Kaif, only when she speaks English; three sentences.
Laughable: Saif-Bips love scene. They seem to keep licking sweat off each other in a barn.
Delectable: The cars...ohhh BMWs, Porsches, Aston Martins and a couple of horses as well.
Deplorable: Cheap comical relief, an overacting Anil Kapoor and Sameera as a "bimbo".

The drool factor: Episode (b) – The attack of the clowns

To start with a few examples. Ice Cream. At least leave this product to the children, but no…even ice cream has to scream eros. I always thought ice cream was meant for children…I mean I feel this craving for sub-zero milk slithering down my throat every time I see an Amul, Joy, Dasprakash or Vadilal sign. Ice cream has that quality…but to bring sex into this I thought was weird…People are meant to drool from their mouths at ice cream ads…not feel bulges some where else.

1. Walls ice cream: The strawberry one. Romantic music. Woman leering into the camera. Her beau trying to understand why Rupa rejected him. Sly smiles. Coy looks exchanged. Legs wrapped around beau. Music tempo hastens. A delectable lick on a ice cream cone. End.

Alright…I’m traversing back in time to when I was a kid. If I saw this ad then, I would go yeeeeaaaccckkkkkk. And of course Walls believes the urban young male who see this ad and go, hey forget this chatting, orkutting business, I wanna get an ice cream and attack women with it.

2. Walls brought this nonsense in some years ago, with that ice cream is actually a phallus ad. Some half nude morons are standing with their hands on their crotches, and this dame pretends, maybe actually does don’t know, to check the size of their, umm members. In the end she picks a guy who raises his hands, which are ohh…wowo…holding a foot long bar of ice cream.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

The only upside of this proliferation of women into the ad scene is the employment factor, strictly according to me. I have seen several people (male and female), friends, cousins and others flocking to Mumbai to get a job, which exploits their bodies and sometimes their acting talent. But the women by and large seem satisfied as there are always some ads that randomly require a skimpily clad lass. The men have Rupa and VIP … see Jockey and Hanes use only white six packs and glutus maximuses.

CCTV II: The drool factor episode (a): The Hokum menace

This is also known as the-rake-your-libido-up-to-extreme-heights-so-you-wanna-run-screaming -out-of-your-house-and-buy-that-damned-product-to-bring-it-to-a-climax.

A few examples to exemplify the above.
Breath mints. Now I do agree that breath mints are sometimes needed to attract the opposite sex. but in these ads...breath mints only bring the sex.

The cos seem to believe their target is the urban male youth. What about older males, who ned a shot of garlic morning, noon and night, what about the toddlers who eat everything in sight, what about women, old people; they need no breath mints. Oh wait...I get it...their libido does not go into overdrive every time they gaze at the opposite sex. FYI have you ever been woken by your dog in the morning when he wants to fertilize the trees outside? I keep a supply of tic tacs by my bedside to avoid being gassed to death. But no...its only the colts who deserve the white stuff.

1. Fresh mint: This has to be the ad that destroys the cerebral cortex and replaces it with bubblegum. In the ad is this peeping tom who runs around doing the most bizarre things in an attempt to scope out women, and gets belted each time and everytime. Sometimes he falls of high ladders, vehicles ram into him and he falls into creeks with boulders. The ends up in a hospital where he eats a fresh mint and viola! Rakhi Savant (the pin-up girl for nasbandi) strips from a doc coat to some green hellish looking thing and purses her lips like she licked 14 lemons, while sucking on cottage-cheese. The guy recovers...so go eat fresh mint. The only connection between the mint and all the above nonsense is that the mint is green and so is nasbandi's hellish costume.

2. I forget the name of this product, but it has to do with the weather changing every time this dweeb opens and closes his box of breath mints. In the end some woman sitting yards away from him walks towards him, they hitch up and end up in divorce soon.

3. Wrigley's chewing gum. This takes the cake, mousse, souffle and pickle. Another guy roams around eating mint and catching women falling trees, planes, oxen, goats, buildings and what not.

Now im thinking fine, mints get you women. But what if the woman has bad breath? None of the ads show women even needing mint. Women like the smell of mint from guys, but don't need it themselves.

The funny bit of this minty series is that the objective is completely lost. Whats the point of parading hapless fellows in an endeavor to get women and it is mint that helps you.

Heres an equation that could help. mint = kill bad breath = helps cover smoking, meat and garlic = immature impotency.
I liked the polo ads. beta sweater peheno. it made no sense, but i like the accent and voice. One will always remember the ad. As for chlormint the green stuff now just reminds me of the nasbandi dame

Crap Commercials that trigger vertigo I or CCTV I

The recent Bajaj Pulsar is all about taking that mean machine to the max and veiled riders take it to all sorts of places, some which are not even showcased in Mithun or Rajni movies. The stunts are enough to ensure a straight ticket to the X Games..a good idea...now that the Hockey team is out in any case.
However, However the ad starts with a rider (pun fully intended)...The stunts in the commercial to follow are performed by trained personnel, do not attempt these at home or even on the road.
OK lets get something straight...WHY SHOW THE STUNTS IF I SHOULDN'T FRIGGIN ATTEMPT THEM.
The damned riders do things on screen with machines...some of which are actually CGI, which even Optimus Prime wouldn't do without complete insurance.
Bike ads are becoming increasingly inane...another prime example being..the one where some engineering graduate attains Nirvana at a construction site and drops a foreign job to take the Indian one. Mein Aah Rahan hoon India...Toh hum kya kare? aur yeh ghatiya gaadi aur tumara connection kya hain? Aur tumare bakwaas gaadi ke peeche woh paanch vaddi gaddi kiske hain?
Hows about a bike ad where there's this biker sipping on whiskey, gets into a fight with other bikers and belts 'em in a race. oh wait Thums Up already did that.
Lewis Black, the comedian came up with a good one. Three rabbits are sittign on a log and one of them goes home and commits suicide. "Buy a bike".