Rating:
2.0/5
Star
Cast:
Himansh
Kohli,
Serah
Singh,
Dev
Sharma,
Rakul
Preet
Singh,
Evelyn
Sharma
Director:
Divya
Khosla
Kumar
It
isn't
a
pretty
sight
to
see
an
actress
of
Deepti
Naval's
calibre
ham.
But
she
does
just
that
in
a
sequence
that
even
Nirupa
Roy
would
have
thought
twice
before
getting
into.
Yaariyan
enters
into
the
young....no,
make
that
very
young...territory.
Lamentably
in
the
perverse
parameters
of
a
particular
kind
of
Bollywood
entertainment,
"young" is
equated
with...no,
not
reckless....but
brainless
to
the
point
of
being
moronic.
So
the
first
10
minutes
of
playing-time
in
this
over-long
ode
to
the
yen
of
being
young
is
devoted
to
the
film's
hero
Lakshya
(TV
actor
Himansh
Kohli)
trying
to
get
a
kiss
out
of
a
short-skirted
miss.
But
the
kiss
ends
up
in
a
mess.
There
are
many
number
of
under-dressed
under-graduates
luring
and
pulling
boys
into
empty
classes
for
a
bit
of
necking.
And
then
Bollywood
wonders
why
it
is
blamed
for
violence
against
women
in
our
society.
Eve-teasing
is
not
just
a
past-time
in
a
film
such
as
this.
It
is
a
religion.
Divya
Khosla
Kumar
sets
her
sight
on
making
a
film
that
pays
a
jam-packed
homage
to
the
coming-of-age
flicks,
but
ends
with
one
which
is
far
away
from
it.
The
film
also
bears
an
uncanny
physical
resemblance
to
Farah
Khan's
"Main
Hoon
Na".
As
in
Mansoor's
film,
Ms
Khosla's
go-slow
narration
builds
a
graph
for
the
hero
from
daft
to
wise....At
least
that
is
what
it's
meant
to
be.
But
given
the
preposterous
preenings
of
the
blabber-mouthed
plot,
the
daft
never
develops
beyond
the
first
draft.
The
screenplay
could
have
done
with
substantial
paring
and
reparation.
There
is
a
too
much
of
window-dressing
and
too
little
substance.
The
narrative
moves
through
two
continents,
and
the
Australian
sojourn
is
crammed
with
loud
propaganda
on
racial
hatred
when
the
hero's
Australian
cousin
is
smashed
to
death
by
a
jealous
local.
Many
exhausting
reels
later,
the
slain
NRI's
mother
(Deepti
Naval,
again!)
is
shown
bandaging
her
son's
Aussie
killer's
hand.
Bloody
hell.
The
plot
is
tiresomely
old-fashioned.
The
narrative
is
cluttered
with
characters
who
think
1970s
but
wear
clothes
and
have
an
attitude
borrowed
from
the
immigration
desk
of
an
American
airport.
Though
much
hue
and
cry
is
expended
on
the
Indian
flag
and
its
sanctity,
scant
respect
is
paid
to
the
audiences'
intelligence.
The
debutante
director
assumes
her
audience-profile
to
be
18-20-year-olds
who
spend
all
their
time
dreaming
of
smooches
and
splashing
in
azure
beaches.
Laughably,
none
of
the
film's
young
protagonists
think
beyond
a
kiss.
Sex,
if
you
must
know,
is
not
for
the
young
in
a
cinema
that
focuses
on
busts,
bums
and
thighs
and
on
a
pair
of
coconuts
when
the
camera
tires
of
the
real
thing.
There
is
unlimited
attempt
to
sexy.
But
little
sex
in
the
film.
While
it
lasts,
the
narrative
has
bicycle
and
motorcycle
races,
mountain
climbing
(impressively
shot)
and
social
climbing,
plunging
morales
and
necklines.
By
the
time
the
hero
finally
grows
up,
the
audiences,
even
the
targeted
youngsters,
would
probably
age
by
at
least
a
few
years.
On
the
plus
side,
the
soundtrack
is
an
interesting
mix
of
club
beats
and
melodies.
The
title
song
and
a
rock
track
in
praise
of
the
Mother
do
bring
the
much-needed
respite
in
a
film
that
tries
so
hard
to
be
young
that
we
end
up
looking
at
the
ageing
romancers
in
this
week's
other
release
Dedh
Ishqiya
with
boosted
admiration.
Verdict
Yaariyan
is
strictly
for
the
young
at
heart
and
disabled
of
mind.
Cast:
Himansh
Kohli,
Nakul
Preet,
Deepti
Naval
Directer:
Divya
Khosla
Kumar
IANS