As long as audiences indulge in the inanity dished out in the name of puerile entertainment putrid potboilers such as Bombaat will keep the sandalwood kettle boiling and foisted on film fans. So a vacuous, vapid fare, in the fetid belief that it is out to provide cracker of a celluloid show for fans of Golden Star Ganesh is Bombaat (superb) that stormed the silverscreens this week.
But then this Ganeshana aata (mal) directed by D Rajendra Babu so reeks of insufferable ennuidom that you scream and scram for nearest abode of Lord Ganapathi, redeemer and queller of all troubles, to save you from this brain bashing ballyhoo. No. No way is this a 24 karat concoction one would swallow like sweet syrup. One would rather take Portia’s poisonous potion proffered with love rather than suffer the stupidity of pathetic play that Ganesha-Babu combine cobble out fatuously thinking that they are regaling.
So, a self-indulgent, wooden and rotund Ganesha aka Anand tries to woo his worshipers with sugary-syrupy sagacious saga of a beau, born to a rake of a rowdy-sheeter, seeking to become supercop, a vow he has taken before his widowed mother. Hastening his hopes are a malevolent Mafia don and his dumbos including his dunderhead of a son Adi who are hell-bent on making life miserable to a damsel in distress Shalini nee Ramya the dear daughter of inspector Ananthakrishnan (Avinash). While not fending off the vexacious villains Anand romances Shalini with songs dime a dozen as he chases the chimera of convincing her that he a samaritan and not a rogue like his dead as a dodo dad.
Suffice to say that this Bombaat is better left alone for a quickest burial at the boxoffice and one’s money better spent at bhel-puris, badushahs, chais, cappuccinos, and Cafe au Laits than let Bombaat make bheja-fry of you brains and mincemeat of your mindspace.
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