Director Mohit Suri displays shocking amateurishness in a lot of scenes. There are continuity blunders like Hashmi’s stubble mysteriously getting bushier or lighter from one scene to another, or a scene where posse of cops appear out of nowhere at a temple just as Emraan rushes in to have a dekko at the dead body inside. And guess what? Once he sees the victim in the welter of blood, a song follows!
Jeez! At that point and threw my arms in the air and looked around to check what other people were doing in the theatre. A couple necking and petting in the front row. The guy next to me glued to his cell. The aunty in the front gorging on popcorns. The uncle looking around, just like me.
This was a film that was supposed to keep us on the edge of our seats and knock the very breath out of our lungs. It doesn’t. Not that we expected some sort of Hitchcockian suspense, or Hannibalistic chills, or John Doesque lunacy. All we bargained for was a taut thriller which Murder 2 is far from being. Yet, credit to Prashant Narayanan for saving the day for the Bhatts. For once, the serial killer outshines the serial kisser.