Now this film's a teaser that leaves you completely foxed. While it's easy to understand about the Holi bit in the title -- everybody gets together to sing Rang Barse in sparkling white -- there's just nothing to explain the Karma adjunct. Whose karma? Good karma? Bad karma? Or just karma because it has an Indian zing to it and sounds more hip than stereotyping the Orient in the usual snake charmer-meets-elephant imagery.
But then, confusion and incoherence seems to be running through the entire film about a motley crowd of Indians and Americans who assemble at a party to celebrate the festival of Holi. Hosts, Sushmita and Randeep, are themselves a bewildered NRI couple who may be living the suburban dream in New Jersey, but really don't know whether they are happy or sad; whether they should visit a doctor for their childless state or keep trying intermittently. Small wonder then, all their guests are pareshan (unhappy) people too. Like Suchitra Krishnamurty who has a chauvinistic husband and a permissive kid sister (Deepal Shaw); like Rati Agnihotri who is a helicopter mom, obsessing about her teenage son and his puberty demands; like Naomi Campbell, the struggling starlet, who chooses to remain silent most of the time, since her struggling film maker boyfriend doesn't give her too much bhav; like Drena DeNiro pulling out her tarot cards to predict terrible futures for all and sundry. It's an endless list of Amrika-settled confused desis who are trying to blend in with the Amrika-born confused videshis, desperately seeking the India fix.
Sadly, no one gets a high with this lacklustre potion. The Holi party may have ended with Nirvana for most of the on screen revellers, but the bechara viewer is left high and dry after this dismal affair.
source:http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/moviereview/4236355.cms
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