I just returned from a three-hour movie. Arguably the most diverting, and certainly the most surprising, thing to happen in that time was that I got a nosebleed during the last ten minutes.
Bollywood, you have disappointed me.
Let's take a minute to remember the good old days before Cocktail came and ruined everything.
You know how many choreographed numbers on top of trains there are in Cocktail? None. That's how many.
That is also the number of long dance numbers featuring people inexplicably standing-fully clothed under showers, provocatively running their fingers through their own wet hair. I mean, I ask you. What good is Cocktail?