Consider yourself ‘unlucky’, if you are made to sit through this film, which boasts of a bizarre love quadrangle and ‘how to become a Crorepati’ side story. To begin with, the title has absolutely no relevance to the film. There is no defined storyline whatsoever. However, the same can’t be said about the film’s poster, (if you happen to see it). The makers, it seems, have literally shown a middle finger to the audiences, who may have had certain expectations from it. That way, they aren’t deceiving!
If Lucky Kabootar was meant to be a romantic comedy, not a single scene makes you laugh or feel the love. The crudity of the language makes you cringe instead. It’s only right if Punjabis take offense, for their portrayal is vastly unflattering.
Picture this – you are bombarded with bad sex jokes and random erotic dream sequences, all of which are shot in water! All the characters are water nymphs, we get it! A horny female character hits on Ravi Kishan, shows off ample cleavage and then acts drunk when he doesn’t reciprocate her ‘feelings’. A pansy guy’s name is ‘Phussy’ (mind the h), and a wish-granting baba is called ‘Sexydaas’ (Sanjay Mishra borrowing Satya Sai baba’s hairdo and yesteryears villain Jeevan’s unique nasal twang and trademark dialogue delivery).
The baba’s female minions are called Hard drive and Pen drive. A lady politician mispronounces ‘Shaks (somebody in Urdu) as Sex’ and then keeps repeating it, assuming it’s funny. Wonder how the censor board cleared this film with a U/A!
Among the cast, Sanjay Mishra and Kulraj Randhawa are probably the only decent actors and you feel sorry for them for they do their job sincerely. Popular TV actor Eijaz Khan fails to rise above the terrible writing and lacks presence.
Lucky (Eijaz Khan) loves ‘modern’ Kammo (Shradha Das) but ends up marrying the girl-next-door Lakshmi (Kulraj Randhawa). An accident leads him to believe that his wife is dead. Instead of mourning her death, he falls into Kammo’s arms. Turns out, he’s not that lucky.
The Times of India