In Hum Tum Shabana, Shabana has a chacha, Manju don, who slaps himself repeatedly. He does this whenever he is angry or upset. And when he is happy, he slaps the one who has given him reason to smile. Both varieties of slaps come fast and loud.

This is the only bit in this film I could empathise with. So will you. You have to slap yourself to stay focused on the nonsense that plays out on the screen, beginning to end.
And to think that Sagar Ballary made Bheja Fry. But then he did insist on Bheja Fry 2. So, slaps, remember.
Two boys, Kartik (Shreyas Talpade) and Rishi (Tusshar Kapoor), complete opposites, are irresistibly drawn to each other, if only to hurt, humiliate and put down. That is their life’s mission.
Both work in the same advertising-cum-entertainment company and are hankering after the same assignment — the Glamarama beauty pageant. But another guy is hired, and they are made his assistants.
Beauty pageant means pouting girls in bikini tops. The boys quickly check out the eight finalists and are, of course, excited by the same girl, Shabana (Minissha Lamba), mainly because after announcing her vital statistics, 32-24-36, she says that she is walking the ramp and shedding her clothes only to find a true friend. If she finds one she would have won. For a second here I thought that maybe, under all its gibberish, Hum Tum Shabana is a pungent spoof on beauty contests. Ha!
Anyway, among the eight finalists is a real model Ria (Pia Trivedi) who is certain that she will win the crown. We agree. So when she passes snide remarks about short and lumpy Shabana, we don’t really mind. But Ria’s meanness upsets dumbo Shabana. This is a cue for the two boys to come skipping to her rescue. Which they do, all the while each trying to elbow out the other. They fix a judge, fix her hair and pledge undying love and loyalty.
Shabana wins some, but loses the finale and runs back home crying to the aforementioned slapping chacha.
The two boys go looking for her and Hum Tum Shabana, which till now seemed to have been merely conceived, directed and performed by imbeciles, is now taken hostage by zombies.
These zombies babble on hysterically, making no sense whatsoever. All I could make out was that they wanted to slap and torture the two boys as part of their training to become suitable suitors for Shabana. Now the boys are not so keen on Shabana, perhaps, I hoped, having realised that they are gay. Yet again the film meanders in another direction, in pursuit of a dead body, a pillow, an idiotic item number and a horror house where large, grown men growl endlessly.

TUSSHAR KAPOOR, Shreyas Talpade and Minissha Lamba exhibit the acting skills of stick cartoons, but even those characters have a soul. The blame for their lame act has to be shared by the writer (Farhajaan Sheikh) and director Sagar Ballary. Given their idea of characters, story and what makes a comedy, both should be kept away from actors and cameras for three years.
Yet there's one image from Hum Tum Shabana that will forever remain embedded in my brain: Minissha Lamba’s lips. Ms Lamba and her lips probably arrive on the sets in separate cars and are then attached to each other. But these lips have a mind of their own and do their own thing — they travel up and down her face, curling this way and that, with no connection to what’s happening or what’s being said. The sound that emanates from them is of a child who has just overcome stuttering. Seriously, these lips deserved separate credit.