Breakups, brawls and loads of s**t

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IF ONE were seriously into affirmative action and given to asinine political correctness, one could take a lenient, benign view of this D-grade atrocity called Valentine’s Night. But one is not and life is too short and money is hard to earn.
On paper, the story of Valentine’s Night may have seemed mildly interesting to its directors and producers, but what's on screen is a criminal offence.

We are in Delhi where we are introduced to the Facebook profile photographs of a few random people and their random lovers. Some lovers are excited about Valentine’s Day, but their partners are not. So when the excited lovers try to do something special, the bored others piss on it. This leads to tight slaps all around and lots of walking away in a teary huff.
Breakups abound and one set of newly singles go home and log on to Facebook and write stuff about being lonesome on Broken Hearts page. Other alert lonesomes perk up and decide to make a party out of their lonesomeness. So one lot of lonesomes get together at CCD India Gate (apparently there lurks a coffee shop somewhere in the mysterious dungeons under India Gate), some arrive fully clothed, other lonesomes don’t bother with pants etc. They hire a “party cab” and hop in waving one poor Bihari daddy’s add-on ATM card. There’s drinking, singing and bakwas baatein.
Kindly note that these lonesomes are being driven around in a stretch limo by a man who has stuck on a fake moonch and dari. We see it, the idiot lonesomes don’t.
In another part of town, two other lonesomes get together to catch and trash their partying other halves. Instead, one of them gets kidnapped by what looks like a mujahideen gang but are just common bhai log in fancy dress. They have a writhing bhai in the dickie and are in search of a doctor. It’s a tense situation, so lots of tight slaps are exchanged.
Another lone lonesome, meanwhile, is at the beck and call of a politician who desires a “sanwali, jangli, adivasi” lady. He can’t get it off with the bored lady standing in attendance. He is at a farmhouse party whose open invites have been posted on Facebook. So the party car gang lands up here. But before they can have any fun, one lonesome snorts stuff and falls down frothing. They head back to the party car, which now has some awake lonesomes, one comatose lonesome, and one agitated lonesome in search of a wild, tribal belle. Oh! There’s also a gun-wielding so-and-so.
Back at the farmhouse, meanwhile, bored lady is still standing, now really wilting... all this nonsense will somehow get sorted, on Valentine’s night itself, at a police station, but long after a murder has been committed and a Peeping Tom has confessed.
You may have laughed reading this, but you will weep if you have to sit through this painful affair which, by the way, takes a random detour to visit Rakhi Sawant, now a scary nipped’n’tucked relic of her earlier self.

Payal Rohtagi is insufferable on reality shows. Watching her here, in this seedy affair, with her rather large and often peeking behind, takes courage. There is also wrestler Sangram Singh who is making his debut, among others. It is too much to expect even proper hamming from this lot, afflicted as most are with partial or complete facial paralysis.
TT rating in our family newspaper stands for Truly Terrible. I’d like to change that for Valentine’s Night to truly tatti.