Director: Milap Zaveri
Cast: Sunny Leone, Sunny Leone, Tusshar Kapoor, Vir Das
Mastizaade isn’t even a movie. For almost the entirety of its run time, it feels like getting screamed at by a pissed off plastic clown. It’s as pointless as a punctured condom. It’s as ghastly as a bad boob job. It’s like entering a lunatic pervert’s Internet search history tab and discovering only cake recipes. Let me repeat: Mastizaade isn’t a movie. It’s a bunch of sweaty sleazeballs exploiting Sunny Leone’s star power and straight up robbing your cash. Don’t let them.
Let’s be honest here. We’re friends right? Who reads a Mastizaade movie review? For those of you who want to watch this movie, a review, positive or negative is not really going to make any difference. A review for Mastizaade is as pointless as Sunny Leone in a burqa. Am I right?
So let’s get the plot out of the way first. Mind you, I use the word plot in the loosest possible sense. In other words, there isn’t one. Tusshar Kapoor and Vir Das play perverts. They do perverted things on pretty much a second-to-second basis. They make perverted ad films by day and visit anonymous meetings for sexual addiction to pick up women by night. They think of themselves as sexual superheroes and in their leisure time, stare at women with such burning concentration that they make their clothes disappear. They chalk this down to a super power (as you do) which they like to call ‘chick ray.’ It’s like X-Ray, but for chicks, geddit?
Then one day, they run into Sunny Leone. It’s almost as if the filmmakers have realised that the world has seen practically every inch of Sunny Leone as it is possible to see so here, in Mastizaade, which is still not a movie, they give us two, yes two (!) Sunnys. Her introductory scene makes all the appliances in her kitchen topple over for some mind boggling reason. I’m not joking: Sunny walks into frame and suddenly juicer-mixer-grinders simply keel over. To be clear: They don’t switch on or star whirring or anything (which would make sense, right?). Instead, they fall to their sides as if that means something. Maybe it was because Sunny was totally naked? Never mind, only an idiot would try and make sense of all the nonsense that’s happening on screen and guess what that makes me.
OK so now that all our major characters have been introduced the plot kicks into its one and only gear: Stalking. Tusshar Kapoor, whose resting expression is one of manic befuddlement, seems to have been given one direction by Milap Zaveri: Cartoon. Both Tusshar and Vir Das pick one Sunny each and begin a long and essentially directionless quest to win them over. One Sunny is a vixen who Skypes with her cat (“Main apni p**ki ke saath khel rahi thi.”) and the other one is mellower, probably because she wears saris and specs and stutters a lot. But before you cry foul, these aren’t just any old saris, they’re Sunny Leone saris (wink wink). And not like she’s in them a lot anyway. So crisis averted.
Between all this insanity, the movie takes regular commercial breaks. No, for real, there are literally moments when the characters take a break from being in a crappy movie and saying things like “Ab Lawman jeans pehen le aur star ban.”
Look, we all know they didn’t hire Sunny Leone for her acting chops, but when the voice coming out of her mouth sounds like a whole ‘nother woman it just goes to show how little the director thinks of her. Heck, even her lines in the end credits outtakes are dubbed.
And that’s not really surprising for a movie that thinks of its women as glorified blow-up dolls. To call the women in this ‘movie’ objects is an insult to objects. They are the walking, talking, jiggling butt of all the jokes. No pun intended. Unlike Titli Boobna, which was presumably deliberate.
To make matters worse, in the Sunnys’ brother they’ve gone and created such an aggressively stereotypical gay character that stereotypes all over the world are probably committing suicide (might I politely suggest watching this movie). He wears a flower in his hair, enjoys riding bicycles, and is pretty much a sex predator that has designs on Tusshar Kapoor. “Tu meri sister hai par Sunny mera bistar hai,” he says to the saucy Sunny, and then promptly farts in her face. Damn you movie.
Watch the Mastizaade trailer here
You’re guilty. You’re guilty for stealing my money. You’re guilty for pushing your messed up ideology on unsuspecting people. You’re guilty of being regressive and pushing the country back by about 30 years. You’re guilty of disrespecting women, homosexuals and human beings for that matter. You’re guilty of having a song titled “Hor Nach.” I don’t know what’s worse: Having a song with that name or these two words being pretty much the only lyrics in it. If I was locked in a room with Hitler and Osama and had one bullet I would shoot this movie. And damn you movie for making Vir Das do this. You can see the effort on the poor guy’s face. And know this, movie, he is the only reason you’re getting half a star. Actually, scratch that. Zero stars is what you deserve. Not that it matters, but still. The rest of you deserves to be banned, and that’s coming from a person who’s against censorship of any kind.
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The author tweets @NaaharRohan