With all the promise of a crime-thriller, this Bollywood offering starts out like a motorbike given the throttle, but after ninety minutes and counting, the plot is so loose it might as well not be there at all, and as for the dozen other subplots, they’re pulled together in such an aimless manner that it makes you wonder why they even bothered.
Mumbai gangstas who don’t care for the splatter of blood on their faces when they purposefully chop off their rivals fingers, and like their molls close to them isn’t quite earth-shattering fare: we’ve seen it all before. What would have set this apart from yet another Bollywood forgettable would have been a hook, a catch, a twist, a something-else that would have showcased the cold-bloodedness as an art form.
Bhindi Bazaar has its moments, but the bottom line is that it *is* forgettable. However, what I will remember is that Jackie Shroff in his cameo sounds just the same, but looks twice his size! And Mamu is what you call the Mafia Don in Mumbai.