During one of the many forced fist fights in Race 3, Salman Khan is getting the better of his opponents when he is hit by a rod. He smirks, turns towards the camera and punches the enemy in face as if he is punishing the man for not recognising the Bhai of Bollywood. The camera doesn’t cut to the rod, which, I am sure, is broken in half by now. Such is Salman’s unparalleled rage and such is the vision of director Remo D’Souza.
Race 3 is everything film students are taught not to do, but then what do they know? From the first scene in which Anil Kapoor blows up a gang member with the help of a pen bomb to Salman coming to the rescue of his family in a base-jump suit, Race 3 unabashedly targets the fans. There isn’t any pretension of logical filmmaking or sound screenplay. It seems Race 3 categorically wants the non-Salman fans to mind their own business.
Shamsher Singh (Anil Kapoor), a runaway criminal from a village near Allahabad, has built an empire in Al-Shifa Island in the Middle East, which was bought by his elder brother for difficult days. Sikander alias Sikku (Salman Khan) is Shamsher’s stepson who runs his illegal arms’ business. Sanjana (Daisy Shah) and Suraj (Saqib Saleem) are Shamsher’s other kids. There is an intra-family rivalry going on among all of them for the control of business and assets. But they don’t know ‘iss khel ka asli Sikander kaun hai (who is the real boss of this game)’. You have seen the trailer, right?
Let’s get back to the race, I mean the story, which starts, speeds up and finishes with black SUVs, airborne fighters and a barrage of bullets.
Consider this example: Sanjana, the cool-headed MMA champ, and Suraj, a mostly screaming psychotic gangster who likes to break beer bottles on his own head, are trapped in the den of an adversary. Shamsher isn’t worried about his children because “Sikander tak message pahuch chukka hai (The message has reached Sikander).” You know what that means?
This means the killing of more than 10 dozen weapon-wielding trained bodyguards and a song thrown in between. The icing on the cake is Saqib’s reaction to his rescue, “What the hell bro!” Exactly, what the hell!
No wonder, Salman introduces himself as, “My name is Sikander, Sikander Singh.” He is James Bond with tonnes of extra confidence. Before I forget, he is Oxford-educated as well.
Dialogues in the film play on a different level altogether. Just when you thought nothing could surpass ‘My business is my business, none of your business,’ Daisy Shah comes up with another gem: ‘Isko dil nahi Dell khol ke dikhao (Don’t open your heart, switch on your Dell laptop)’.
Race 3 is everything film students are taught not to do, but then what do they know? From the first scene in which Anil Kapoor blows up a gang member with the help of a pen bomb to Salman coming to the rescue of his family in a base-jump suit, Race 3 unabashedly targets the fans. There isn’t any pretension of logical filmmaking or sound screenplay. It seems Race 3 categorically wants the non-Salman fans to mind their own business.
Shamsher Singh (Anil Kapoor), a runaway criminal from a village near Allahabad, has built an empire in Al-Shifa Island in the Middle East, which was bought by his elder brother for difficult days. Sikander alias Sikku (Salman Khan) is Shamsher’s stepson who runs his illegal arms’ business. Sanjana (Daisy Shah) and Suraj (Saqib Saleem) are Shamsher’s other kids. There is an intra-family rivalry going on among all of them for the control of business and assets. But they don’t know ‘iss khel ka asli Sikander kaun hai (who is the real boss of this game)’. You have seen the trailer, right?
Consider this example: Sanjana, the cool-headed MMA champ, and Suraj, a mostly screaming psychotic gangster who likes to break beer bottles on his own head, are trapped in the den of an adversary. Shamsher isn’t worried about his children because “Sikander tak message pahuch chukka hai (The message has reached Sikander).” You know what that means?
This means the killing of more than 10 dozen weapon-wielding trained bodyguards and a song thrown in between. The icing on the cake is Saqib’s reaction to his rescue, “What the hell bro!” Exactly, what the hell!
No wonder, Salman introduces himself as, “My name is Sikander, Sikander Singh.” He is James Bond with tonnes of extra confidence. Before I forget, he is Oxford-educated as well.
Dialogues in the film play on a different level altogether. Just when you thought nothing could surpass ‘My business is my business, none of your business,’ Daisy Shah comes up with another gem: ‘Isko dil nahi Dell khol ke dikhao (Don’t open your heart, switch on your Dell laptop)’.
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