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Indra Kumar’s Grand Masti, a film that portrays women as nothing but absolute objects that need to be exploited to their utmost ‘potential’, releases on the very day that the decision for the heinious rape and murder of a young woman is declared. Coincidence or not, critics are thoroughly disgusted.
“This film establishes male chauvinistic notions that men are horny beasts and women are nothing more than available creatures to provide pleasure. It’s so unbearable and disturbing to watch such films that demean women so brutally!” exclaims Mohar Basu in koimoi.com.
“Grand Masti is a grand tapestry of trash! If you are going to watch the film, it is automatically assumed that you are brainless to invest your time in such a painful film. I would rather route you to watch blue films which might have a better storyline and more action than you expect here. Since films are a work of effort, I am not giving this a zero! Here’s 0.5/5 for Grand Masti,” Basu adds.
Abhishek Mande gives the film zero stars. “I am going with zero out of five stars for Grand Masti because there is no way you can enjoy this movie and still claim you respect women,” he writes for Rediff.com.
Is his disgust well in place?
“Grand Masti features little else besides heaving bosoms, tight shots of women in hotpants (or less) and sexual innuendoes that make crass seem too sophisticated a word to describe them,” Mande explains.
“But the real tragedy would be if this film works at box office because that won’t just set off a trend of similar movies but, more importantly, reveal something rather dark about our own hearts and minds,” he remarks.
Should a film like this be screened on such a fateful day? Or is it best that we face the reality that surrounds us?
“I feel something throbbing between my ears. Clearly, the brain is not at home. Come on, there’s got to be something funny enough to report,” writes a very pained Mayank Shekhar in thew14.com.
“Okay, these porn-stars from the principal’s family have amusing names, if you may. They are called Rose, Mary and Marlowe. The screenwriters love this poor joke as they do everything else they’ve written so far, because they keep repeating them anyway. So we hear: Mary, Rose, Marlowe; Marlowe Mary Rose…”
“I don’t know about roz (daily). But you hope nobody’s brains get maro-ed (bajao-ed, screwed) this badly too soon,” adds Shekhar.
But the larger question remains, is the audience entertained?
No, says Mayank Shekhar. “At least half my row in the theatre had already left at the interval though. One is often advised to leave your brains behind for a film like this. It is the only way to ensure your IQ doesn’t drop to negative when you’re finally done with the movie.”
“I would happily enjoy an adult comedy if it was funny but I doubt that the makers of this film know the difference between funny and cheap,” writes Rohit Khilnani in India Today, pointing out the basic flaw in the film.
“The problem here is that the humour is cheap and forced. The makers have not just gone too far but they have scrapped the bottom of the barrel to dig out the cheapest possible double meaning jokes. Throughout the film, the close up of private parts, male and female both, leaves you disgusted,” he adds.
Khilnani didn’t enjoy it, at least not in the theatre.
“When a film makes you uncomfortable and gives you that awkward feeling which only a porn film can give, if you end up watching one in a crowd, then of course it’s not entertaining.”
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