(Gasp. Swoon. Faint)
The movie borders on being a slapstick comedy but a brilliant, smart one. Its hilarious...and I mean falling on the floor, laugh out loud kind of funny. I was literally roaring with laughter. My stomach hurt, my eyes streamed and my cheeks...wow my cheeks still ache from all the laughing. The dialogues are (at the risk of repeating myself) hilarious. The only hitch? You have to be an SRK fan (Gasp. Swoon. Faint) a Bollywood flick enthusiast and a Hinglish speaker to really get the jokes.
There is the usual Bollywood masala: vibrant vistas, jiggly jingles and dis-believable dishum-dishum between the dastardly villain and the hero. Really, without said masala no one could tell the difference between a Bollywood and Hollywood flick. (cough) No really, Indian flicks can rise to the occasion every once in a while like, A Wednesday or Black.
But where's the fun in that? I, for one, see a Bollywood movie for its Item Numbers and plots that beg suspension of reality. I see them for the color, the romance, the melodrama. I especially take a trip to the big screen to watch a movie starring the super-bad SRK (Gasp. Swoon. Faint) And since Chennai Express had all of that and more in it ( Deepika Padukone wasn't bad at all) watching it on the Big Screen was a no-brainer.
Go see it, folks, and thank me later for encouraging you to stop and tickle your funny bone.