Monday, Oct 20, 2014

Movie Review: Yaariyaan

Rating: 0.5 out of 5
'Yaariyaan', a youthful college film. 'Yaariyaan', a youthful college film.
Written by Shubhra Gupta | New Delhi | Posted: January 10, 2014 11:15 am | Updated: January 10, 2014 11:25 am

Cast: Himansh Kohli, Rakul Preet Singh, Dev Sharma, Nicole Faria, Evelyn Sharma, Deepti Naval, Gulshan Grover

Director: Divya Khosla Kumar

The Indian Express rating: * ½

‘Yaariyan’ is meant to be many things as we keep discovering as we are dragged along its unending length. A youthful college film. A patriotic film that waves the Indian flag in faraway Australia and our own Sikkim. A love story with a fresh pair. And a container for some popular songs.

Of all the boxes it tries to tick, this exhausting two-and-a-half hour product does best with the last one. Because for the others, there needed to have been a plot. Which is non-existent. ‘Yaariyan’ seems to have been cobbled together from ‘Main Hoon Na’ and ‘F A L T U’, and ‘Student Of The Year’, even going back to ‘Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar’. If you can find other sources of ‘inspiration’, please add in.

The college is set in ‘Sikkim’ (because it is big enough to straddle the whole state, maybe?), and is populated by girls who are only bothered about their looks, and boys who are never seen with books. Classes, what’s that? The studious Saloni (Preet Singh) is a ‘behenji'; the other ‘girls’ are to be seen in hot pants and tank tops, looking as if they’ve stepped off a particularly garish ramp. Lakshya (Kohli) has a widowed mother and an Armyman father who gave up his life for the country.

The hero’s best friend goes off to Australia, leaving behind his teary mother (Naval), solely to be the victim of a ‘racial attack’. Apart from making a comment on ‘racism’, some parts of the film are shot on an Aussie beach, just so they show us an Aussie lass (Evelyn) in a red bikini. A couple of moronic types pass off as teachers, with poor Gulshan Grover having to play ‘principal’ to this unappetizing bunch. And of course there’s got to be that one mincing guy with a limp wrist : if I had to stop and count out the offenses, major and mild, that this tripe piles up, I’d run out of space, so I will leave it here.

They should have just compiled the songs, a couple of them hummable, in a CD, instead.

shubhra.gupta@expressindia.com

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