It is easy to see why lead actor Akshay Kumar has reportedly disowned this film even though his own production banner, Hari Om Entertainment, has lent its name into it.
Joker is a crude joke of the film that will make you in tears if you don't have a stomach sufficiently strong to digest such unmitigated junk.
Occasionally, trash comes with its uses within the
domain of entertainment. However when it decomposes and gets to be putrid garbage, it stinks. Yes, Joker is really a load of rubbish that belongs within the dump yard.
The only star that the film gets is perfect for the fact that Joker has become the first mainstream comic fantasy produced in Mumbai. That apart, it's nothing that remotely resembles a redeeming routine. Pity, even Chitrangada Singh's Kaafirana dil could make no dent.
What Joker delivers within the garbled guise of the genre plumbs such depths of vapidity it stands no chance of ever approaching for air.
The run duration of the film is definitely an hour and forty-five minutes. Thankfully for small mercies. But even at this length, Joker is tough to deal with.
The screenplay is over the place, clearly the handiwork of the person unable to decide whether it's a film about a forgotten village of nitwits who enjoy making a sorry spectacle of themselves or perhaps a cross-eyed comment on the propensities from the nation’s over-eager electronic media and smarmy political functionaries. In either case it is pathetically half-baked.
Joker is placed in a village called Paglapur, which isn’t a speck on the map because it is populated with a bunch of freaks that owe their bloodline to mental asylum inmates who escaped in the captivity of somebody called Dr D. Mented over Six decades ago.
Into their midst walks a prodigal son, Agastya (Akshay Kumar), a US-based scientist who's working on a large corporation-funded project to construct a radio trans-receiver that will enable humans to speak with aliens. His constant arm candy Diva (Sonakshi Sinha) accompanies him for this lost frontier.
The guy realises the village of his childhood isn't any Shangri-la. It is stuck previously because the authorities no more acknowledge its existence in writing or otherwise.
He decides to drag a fast one to attract media attention. He hatches a plot to make the world to take notice of Paglapur also it involves much mumbo-jumbo about crop circles and aliens.
A united states scientist and Agastya’s rival for that lucrative get-to-know-the-aliens contract who comes to the village to call the hero’s bluff tells among the swarming television reporters: “What are you currently, a third grader?”
You could well divert that very question director Shirish Kunder’s way. Really, that which was he thinking as he decided to foist this bit of insufferable drivel on us?
The gallery of characters he conjures up is as off-kilter as anything else in the film. There’s Babban (Shreyas Talpade), a mans protagonist’s brother who speaks a gobbledygook lingo that's infinitely weirder than the crazy dance done by the aliens for the use of the electronic media corps which has descended on Paglapur to record the bizarre goings-on.
There's also a madcap schoolteacher (Asrani) who still believes the village faces a threat from Adolf Hitler. He's another of those obsessive Hindi-to-English translators that lots of makers of
Hindi films believe are riotously funny.
"Don’t fly my jokes," the masterji says one time. What he means is mera mazaaq mat udaao (don’t poker fun at me).
If that weren’t enough, he translates ulti chhatri (inverted umbrella - a mention of the the dish antennas around the OB vans that invade Paglapur following a reports of a crop circle - as "vomit umbrella."
Should you aren’t ready to throw up at that time, you really do possess a degree of tolerance that can simply be described as impressive. However it might do you much harm over time, so stay away from this misguided joker within the pack.
It is about as exhilarating like a runaway pachyderm that has strayed right into a city park packed morning hours joggers. You don’t uphold and watch; you run for cover!
The
Joker actors seem like they’ve walked into a crude indigenized version of the vaudeville performance in the middle of nowhere without quite understanding what they have let themselves into.
Akshay Kumar is really as good as he could be - and that isn’t everything good. Sonakshi sleepwalks through the film, grinning and frowning because he drowns in the morass,
Give Joker a miss if you'd prefer your sanity and cash. It gives commercial Hindi cinema a poor name.
