Admission time. I haven’t seen the principal “VIP” film. What’s more, in the wake of seeing the development, I swear on my most loved Dada Kondke highlight, I will never touch anything with a VIP in it, not even the bag.
More admission. “VIP 2” is not a film. It is an anathema. It is two hours of horrifying self-advancement for Dhanush who is a humiliation in this film. Dhanush plays the sort of overwhelming domineering jerk saint who looked absurd even back in the 1960s when Rajendra Kumar or Gemini Ganesan would walk on to a sprawling set speaking to a well-to-do family room loaded with a spiraling stairway driving upstairs, and embrace and kiss a lady 10 years more youthful and say, “ceMaa, I’ve started things out class-first in class” (Please convert into Hindi, Tamil, Telugu, Bengali, and so on).
Dhanush plays Raghuvaran, a five star first in everything, including male bullheadedness and self-praise. He sings tunes about his significance with his pals (horrible ones at that), harassers his pretty spouse (Amala Paul, terribly abused) and drinks his swag at the camera as if it were an eager panther in a zoo.
At that point when he goes up against a corporate big enchilada played by the completely abused Kajol, he goes up against more than he can bite. Which is alright in light of the fact that Dhanush’s character does precisely what the executive is doing. Going up against more than can be taken care of, they both flop and fall trembling to the ground.
Soundarya Rajinikanth is, I don’t know how to state this cordially, not an executive by any stretch of the imagination. To expand on an encounter between Dhanush’s Raghuvaran and Kajol’s business visionary Vasundhara, Soundarya utilizes tropes and buzzwords from old chronicled Rajinikanth starrers. These plot focuses would make even Rajini sir shiver in sicken.
Not at the present time, please. No more! Who carries on like a Rajini spinoff treating ladies with the affable hatred we as a rule put something aside for packs loaded with detonative explosive?
Kajol plays a variety of Sridevi’s bombastic business person from Raj Kanwar’s “Laadla”, where she would run her finger, cross the scaffold of her nose and cry, “You get it? You better get it!”.
In any event Sridevi had an imposing foe in Anil Kapoor. In “VIP 2”, Kajol’s showdown successions with Dhanush are so piercing and insane that the verbal competing undermines to fall apart to uncover the emptiness of this present film’s anarchic sexual orientation war.
“VIP 2” enables average quality to the degree that it (unremarkableness) appears the main characteristic status to be achieved over the span of the narrating. Some time or another Kajol will demonstrate this film to her stupendous children for instance of how wrong a sensible apparently canny expert’s judgment can go when she is concentrating on the zeroes on her compensation check.
You get it? You better get it!