Few Bollywood actresses who take a break to play ghar-ghar get the comeback film they deserve. Kajol did, Madhuri Dixit didn’t. Sridevi may (Mr India 2), but Karisma Kapoor hasn’t. So what is it? Powerful Bollywood husbands? Perhaps. But I am not talking about giving them big budget films, or pairing them with reigning superstars. I'm just wondering why a sensible, interesting story that uses the actress’ talents, even maturity, and makes us happy at meeting them again, is so difficult to come by.
I’m not suggesting a Paroma or Aandhi, but how about Doosra Aadmi, Sagar, or at least an Ijaazat. Maybe even that’s too much. Okay, how about a sound script that doesn’t grovel apologetically for having a middle aged actress as its centrepiece? What is that so difficult? Is it Bollywood’s collective apathy drawn from the reaction of the male organ of its biggies? Because surely it can’t be the fear of the box office because while Kajol’s Faana did well, Madhuri Dixit’s Aaja Nachle tanked. Ok, so one had Aamir Khan and the other didn’t. But my point is that interesting stories are more likely to make money than the ones that needlessly breathe heavy. Simple. So why do so many producers waste their money on directors who treat actress who have become mothers like vacuous aunties who lost all talent, charm and humour when their water broke?
Dangerous Ishhq is mourning itself. Maybe because it has a do-bachchon-ki-Ma as its lead, or that Karisma Kapoor herself has ossified into a Posh Spice wannabe from South Delhi in white-pants and hazardous heels. Whatever the reason, no one deserves this.
It’s difficult to recount the film’s story without long sighs and slapping myself to stay focused. But I’ll try.
In Mumbai, I think, lives a super model, Sanjana (Karisma Kapoor), and her boyfriend, a hot-shot businessman, Rohan (Rajniesh Duggall). They exchange soulful looks while she walks the ramp and he claps from the first row. A second later they exchange sheepish looks because the MC announces that Sanjana has will be shifting to France for a year, starting tomorrow. Rohan is like, hain? But he understands and a sad goodbye later Sanjana is on her way to the airport. En route she spots a Lord Krishna murti, abandons France plans and returns to Rohan. Minutes later men with black masks and guns kidnap Rohan and leave Sanjana unconscious.
Sanjana wakes up in a hospital which is empty except for a bleeding Rohan lying on the floor and calling Sanjana “Geeta”. This strange Rohan speaks Punjabi, has matted hair and a beard and is being chased by a rioting mob. Sanjana’s friend Dr Neetu (Divya Dutta) walks in, figures what the problem is and takes her to a hypnotist.
Meanwhile, Rohan’s kidnapping case has been assigned to ACP Bhargav Singh (Jimmy Shergill) who is in Rohan’s parents’ house, waiting for a ransom call.
Sanjana, at her hypnosis session, goes back to what is now Pakistan, during Partition. The bearded Rohan was her lover then, Iqbal. Sanjana is now hooked to these travels to here pichla janam, and every time she ventures there, she visits a new world in another century, and in all of these she and Rohan are lovers and someone is after her, trying to keep her away from Rohan. At these fancy dress outings – Mughal, Rajput -- Sanjana gathers clues that will help her free present-day Rohan from his kidnappers. Slowly, I mean at an excruciating pace, she unravels an old suitor, an old shraap, Meerabai’s vardaan and Natasha Sinha’s witch-giri.

Karisma Kapoor, apart from being entombed in a story that could at best be called foolish fantasy, is also encased in kilos of makeup, scarves and jackets and every possible accessory that make her look like she walked onto the sets straight after lunch at the Oberoi.
According to the film's credits, Vikram Bhatt directed this nonsense. I’d say his AD did. But I know for sure that Himesh Reshamiya did the music because it is shrill and annoying.
I can’t say for sure, but it could be that the only reason this film is in 3D is because that technology keeps sagging skin and wrinkles hazy. Unfortunately only the heroine’s, not the script’s.