Many years ago, a close female friend -- who shall here remain nameless because a) gallant men do not besmirch a woman`s honour and b) because I value my life -- was breathless after watching the teaser of Ram Gopal Varma`s James, marking the debut of a certain fellow called Mohit Ahlawat. She felt he had the presence to be the next big thing, the intensity of a young Shah Rukh Khan, and that elusive x-factor, "woh baat." No he didn`t.
How badly she will cringe at reading this, and how Punjabi-expletive-ridden the ensuing phone call to me will be, are testament enough to that spectacular moment of Mohit-misjudgement. Presumably on screen in Shagird simply because they wanted a hero a head taller than Nana Patekar, the man is catastrophically awful at anything outside of keeping his trousers uncreased. He acts like he fires a gun in this film: very sparingly indeed. Not that this seems out of choice.