Abhishek takes on the mantle of the next Bollywood superhero — a totally desi ‘mahapurush’ avatar — in a white tunic embossed with golden stars. He also speaks Hindi and romances Priyanka, but looks nothing like Superman. He doesn’t even, sigh, have a mask.

What he does have is a mean-and-nasty mother-and-son duo making his life miserable. Every so often a blue rose petal floats in to comfort him. And then one day, he acquires, in rapid succession, a gem-studded bracelet, a gorgeous female bodyguard (Priyanka), the knowledge that his own mother Rani Jayati Devi (Jaya) abandoned him when he was a young child, and that he is not an ordinary mortal, but a Drona, keeper of the faith. Which he has to save from the evil jaadugar Riz Raizada (Kay Kay).

Oh, this could have been such a wonderful fantasy, harking back to ancient Indian tales of intrigue and mystery, full of tilasmi nagris, and jaadui talwaars. The special effects are absolutely fabulous; the top-notch quality is a first for Indian cinema. But the plot’s ludicrous. Goldie Behl filches from here and there (Harry Potter, Lord Of The Rings come instantly to mind), and gives us a slow, slack story.

Fairytales work only when the strange and fantastical are buoyed by credible characters, not by poor misguided actors looking as if they had strolled out in fancy dress. Abhishek can’t lift his turgid Adi aka Drona off the ground; Priyanka’s martial arts moves are buried under the billowing red and yellow cleavage-flashing shifts.

Only Kay Kay, the black-hearted magician, carries off a gelled Mohawk and a curved silver hook on his forefinger with élan.
If only his magic had spilled over to the movie.

shubhra.gupta@gmail.com