• Bombay of the 90s, more specifically, Bollywood of the 90s.
• Western.
• Spanish influence.
• Pulpy.
• Quirky. This seems like the checklist the makers wanted to include in O' Romeo.
• And, of course, violence. Lots of it and the gorier, the better.

Then, the story takes over. This is usually a good thing.

We get it. They are ruthless—antagonist, protagonist and everyone in between. But the onslaught knows no end. That too, when they are taking the shortcut. Most of the fights don't show the mechanics, the process of the kill. You see only the end result.

No, I am not asking for more goriness, I am just saying, "So much gore, so little effect." You see one throat slit after an eye is poked into after a knee is shot on. Or many. But you don't see too much of the run-up. I am grateful for the reduction in dread, but it also reduces the impact. Despite that, individually, the fight sequences are cool to watch, even if there is rarely anything unique. As a whole though, it doesn't work. There are way too many styles sewn together. And that goes beyond the fights and violence. The background music is thoroughly enjoyable all through the film. But does one piece blend with the other, other than overlapping riffs? Jarringly not.

This isn't surprising. After all, the aim isn't to explore characters or build them. It is to show off. Show all the brutality that was imagined. Show all the cool kind of music that was thought of. That we come to know the two dimensions that the characters have is a by-product. This becomes even more stark when the animosity amongst various characters is told to you and not shown. It is unconvincing given how powerful and intense the individual characters are meant to be. Similarly, the love-hate relationship between Shahid Kapoor and Nana Patekar is feels shallow too.

In fact, almost all characters seem to be cut out of the same wood, just given different motives. They are all quirky with supposedly powerful emotions. Shahid Kapoor carries it forward from Kabir Singh. Nana Patekar and Avinash Tiwary's passion is perfunctory too. Too much shoo-shaa, very little depth.

Same goes for the other parts of the writing too. The dialogue for instance shuttles between over-written and lame. The focus is so hard on being quirky and pulpy and cool that it ends up becoming the opposite—whether it is the twins who speak together or the scores of minions having the same body-type. The latter so much so that it looks almost AI generated like one of the fight sequences in the beginning.

I wish Bharadwaj didn't feel the need to become a Tarantino and/or Wachowski. I understand tipping hats to influences, but I wish there were some ingenuity beyond the couple of standout sequences—the Bombay local one and the one of a series of throat-slits.

"So much gore, so little effect."

There are these sparks in the second half. Else, the little spunk from the first half—like reading out headlines to humour the audience and set the timeline—disappears post-interval.

Then, the story takes over. This is usually a good thing. But here it is episodic, jerky, and worst-of-all cheap. So, you enjoyed making Farida Jalal swear on screen? slow clap You throw in an appeasing India-Pakistan angle? even slower clap Is unacceptable to show national integration without a throwaway, "We don't like ISI either!" It is absolutely mind-boggling then that you still feel scared for Afsha (Triptii Dimri). I think it has a lot to do with her performance. She is equally believable as a timid but strong village girl as she is as a ferocious lady scorned. While we are at things to appreciate, I quite enjoyed the substitute for the end credit item number. Thank you.

Unfortunately, there is very little else that demands compliments or one can be grateful about.

- meeta, a part of the audience