Vodka Diaries Hindi Movie ReviewFeature Film | Drama
You watch Kay Kay Menon go through the motions of being cop husband to a poet wife with amusement, and then begin to wonder: why are they 'holidaying' up the mountain when their own home is just down hill? That's five minutes into the film! And if they were on holiday, why is the wife complaining about him always putting work first? Where did he go running off to leaving a gorgeous wife (Mandira Bedi) to write poetry? Why does she have the energy of a corpse? Why is she trussed up in a saree when the snow is piled up high everywhere? Costumes apart, you're already wondering what is the worst that could happen after such a ghastly mistake? But you're in for a surprise. This may be the first of many mistakes...
The film has been shot in a picturesque snowbound small town, but there is nothing remotely cinematic about the characters who look like they're extras from TV cop shows and who should not be given speaking parts. Including the assistant to the protagonist who talks so much it's annoying. And the 'jokes' he wants to crack are so lame you wish he were dead instead of someone who's been cheating on their girlfriends... He's called Ankit (Sharib Hashmi). Every time Kay Kay gets exasperated Ankit shows up and then vanishes after giving gyan. You wish he were the victim next for his awful screen presence.
Looks like the filmmakers did not think of practical things in a film: How does a fancy ACP have no control whatsoever on the investigation? How does a small town up in snowbound land, have a 'forensics' team that shows up at different crime scenes without a problem? Is the hotel called Vodka Diaries, or the event at the hotel nightclub? What do they think they are doing by destroying snowmen? Why is his poet wife missing? Why does she suddenly behave like some jealous harpy when Kay Kay shows up as Rishi Gautam? It's an assault on the senses, and not in a good way.
You wonder what Raima Sen is doing in the film, trying to be mysterious? Is she a dead person too, now haunting Kay Kay? You wonder which publisher publishes fiction in that odd size? You wonder why Mandira Bedi carries an empty glass up to her room instead of a bottle (like most drunk people would choose to)? And the reveal is so pathetic, you begin to groan when Kay Kay removes the intravenous line from his hand. Obviously the filmmakers have never had an IV inserted in their hands. Removing it is mind-blowingly painful. Just like this film.
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