Movie Review: Bank Chor, Hardly A Bankable Comedy

Riteish Deshmukh forms a gang of 3 self-declared idiots for a heist caper, produced by the Yash Raj banner. Result: it’s more zzzzz-inducing than zany

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Movie Review: Bank Chor, Hardly A Bankable Comedy

Hell’s bells. Infantile humour is sought to be milked at the expense of a horde of real-life people ranging from Arvind Kejriwal and the late Amjad Khan to Deepak Tijori, if you please. Hmm, wonder if censor chief, Pahlaj Nihalani, asked for no-objection certificates to be obtained from Mr Kejriwal, Mr Tijori and Mr Khan’s family. Obviously, he didn’t.
Anyway, what’s in a name really? Indeed the title Bank Chor was clearly employed for a pun intended, a la the D.K. Bose song from Delhi Belly. Director Bumpy aka Vivek Bhushan, comedy ke liye kucch bhi karega. But the whole thing is that the  system of this B. C. is juxtapositioned by the haemoglobin of the atmosphere. And the atmosphere is strictly more depressing and punny than exuberant or funny.

Riteish Deshmukh In A Still From Bank Chor

For the life of me, I can’t fathom why producer Aditya Chopra elected to greenlight this asinine heist caper. Or why Riteish Deshmukh assented to get involved in the silly shenanigans. Deshmukh’s sense of humour, as evidenced in adult sex comedies and house foolish franchises, has never been – dare I use the word? – classy. Under the stewardship of Mr Bumpy (of MTV Roadies, and Luv ka the End which almost killed Shraddha Kapoor’s career in the start-up stage), the screenplay by Baljit Singh Marwah is so laparwah that you clutch your skull out of sheer grief. If this is supposed to be entertainment, take a break please. Ah, wistful thinking!

Over then to the three new self-willed 3 Idiots on the block. Namely Mumbaikar Champak (Deshmukh sir), abetted by Gulab  (Bhuvan Arora) and Tenda (Vikram Thapa) from the satellite townships of Delhi. Endowed apparently by woefully low Iqs, the trio – one impersonating a swami, the other sporting elephant and horse heads  -- set off to rob a bank. Terrible timing it turns out to be. The hostages are a pack of jokers, encompassing an overwrought housewife, rapper Baba Sehgal (on a go-back trail), a kooky chef, a cop who may or not be what he seems to be, and what-nought. Believe me, your tolerance level is about to be blown to smithereens.

Rhea Chakraborty In The Movie Bank Chor

Meanwhile, outside that sad bank, super-duper cop Amjad Khan (Vivek Oberoi hiding behind goggles) is more than ready to use his gun and bullets, as if lethal weapons were no more dangerous than toothpicks. Inevitably, the manic media arrives on the spot to cover the event, the stereotyped hysterical bunch pivoted by a Ms GaGa (uff)  fashion-tracker-turned-crime-reporter (Rhea Chakraborty). Now you can’t decipher whether that’s a professional down- or upgrade. Hence, let it be.

Under the guise of zaniness, the plot is as empty as an ATM machine during those early-remonetisation days. The threesome want out, negotiate with Mr Khan to pardon their botched-up chori. Next: ever so desperately, the 120-minuter mad-a-thon strives to climb out the hole it has dug itself into.
The genre of bank robberies, serious or comedic (take Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon or Woody Allen’s Small Time Crooks, call for at least a shred of understanding for the characters driven to crime. What you get here, however, is rank tomfoolery and the lame excuse that money is needed asap for the bypass surgery of Champak’s daddy-o.

Vivek Oberoi In  A Still From Bank Chor

Okay, forget parallels with the American products. Even Bollywood’s derivative bank hold-ups like Aankhen, Kaante and Dhoom, by comparison, strike you as way superior, cooler flicks.
All seen and suffered, how you wish Riteish Deshmukh who undoubtedly has a intuitive sense of timing and a flair for  deadpan expressions, snags a film which he deserves. The Marathi hit Lai Bhaari had raised his market equity, pulled down several notches by the no-show of Banjo. Now, with Bank Chor he proves that jejune jabs at the ha-ha stuff can be a dead bore. More’s the pity.
Unsolicited suggestion: don’t cheque out this bank mein sasti masti.

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