Film: Tutak Tutak Tutiya

Direction: Vijay

Starring: Prabhudheva, Sonu Sood, Tamannaah Bhatia

Tutak Tutak Tutiya is designed as a grand farce where everyone gets to have a wish come true. Prabhudheva gets to try out his doddering comic timing in scenes that are written in mock-horrific loops. And goodness, what is that thick Tamilian accent doing in the Hindi version of a film that has a Telugu and Tamil version?

Farah Khan who thinks she can act gets to play dance-show judge. It's like Arnab Goswami playing a new anchor. Then there is Sonu Sood who gets to play Superstar Raj Khanna.

This is a film that will give you sleepless nights for days to come. That's after you come out of a daze brought on by Tamannaah as she transforms from a devoted domesticated housewife into a slithering hip-shaking lip-pouting diva star as Ruby.

Please note. Good girls wear saris, stay at home to look after their husband's home while he goes out to flirt with women in skirts pretending to be a bachelor. Tammannah who is a competent performer goes from dazed housewife to dazzling film star with as much enthusiasm as a cook moving from brinjal curry to dahi vada.

A still from the film
A still from the film

For some strange reason she is repeatedly shown in a state of just-had-bath with a towel tied around her hair.

Prabhudheva who is a devastating dancer is here cast as a selfish, uncaring husband. He is an office goer who gives his biodata to every single girl hoping she would become his girlfriend.

The man is a borderline stalker in this monstrously improper comedy-horror. Prabhudheva is shown bullying, slapping, heckling and haranguing women including his wife. It's a bloody embarrassment for the actor and he looks as though he was being forced to keep a dentist's appointment which he would rather skip.

A broad crass comedy may work if the actors believe in the material, no matter how outrageous it may be.

Here in the film, the performers go through the motions as though stuck in the loo with constipation. The odds of their conquering the inertia that is so clearly mapped on their faces remains at the most, bleak.

There is very little in this film to brighten up the proceedings. Unless those rumbustious Bhangra numbers put a beat in your feet. Two of them feature Esha Gupta and Amy Jackson. But don't get your hopes too high. Amy doesn't even dance. She just stands around looking bored watching others shake a leg. This was where I could identify with a character's emotion.

Stay away from this dead meat posing as freshly baked barbecue. Revenge they say is best served cold. The film serves it piping hot. We, and poor Prabhudheva, must have done something terribly wrong to deserve this.