Bollywood’s most cringe movies you must know about (Photo Credit – Amazon Prime Video)
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The Indian film industry has given us some precious gems over the years. Heartfelt romances, high-octane action, and, wait for it… full-on cringe! Aur wo cringe hi kya jisko dekh ke you don’t say…. “Yeh kisne banaya hai bhaisaab?” So, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands and write a series of grievance emails on your behalf to each of them. #OpenLetters
1) Main Prem Ki Deewani Hoon – Starring Prem, Prem & Papa Ki Pari!
I hope this letter finds you in as good shape as your sculpted physique, which is, let’s face it, one of the few highlights we can count on in your films. So, I recently revisited Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon. Yes, that one. The one that has lingered in our memories for all the wrong reasons. Delivering a performance like that with such conviction takes a special kind of courage. So kudos!
I’m unsure what went through your mind when you signed up for this. Did you perhaps get swept up in the grandiosity of Sooraj Barjatya’s vision? Or maybe it was the allure of playing a character named Prem (because, you know, that name has worked wonders for a certain Bhai)? Whatever the reason, let’s just say that Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon was… an experience.
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Hrithik, you’re a brilliant actor, and no one’s denying that. We’ve seen you nail challenging roles with such finesse that they’ve become benchmarks in Bollywood. But Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon? That was not it. The over-the-top theatrics, the cartoonish expressions, the bizarre love triangle—this was less of a movie and more of a case study on how not to handle a love story. It was like watching a hurricane of melodrama, complete with gale-force emotions and a tornado of exaggerated dialogue delivery.
Let’s talk about your chemistry with Kareena Kapoor, shall we? I’ve seen better sparks in a dying firecracker. You were both in different movies, trying to outdo each other in the “Who can be more dramatic” contest. And then there’s the CGI parrot, which deserves an honorary mention for being the most unintentionally hilarious sidekick ever.
I get it, Hrithik. You were probably trying to explore new territories, break away from the macho image, and showcase your range as an actor. But sometimes, it’s okay to step back and ask, “Is this a good idea?” I’m sure you’ve learned a lot since then—like, maybe, dialing down the enthusiasm when the script demands subtlety.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m still a fan. Who isn’t? You’ve redeemed yourself a million times with performances that have left us all in awe. But Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon? That’s a chapter best left in the archives of “What Were They Thinking?”
This letter finds you well, perhaps lounging somewhere and reminiscing about the glory days when the 90s were a whirlwind of frosted tips and leather jackets. Speaking of the 90s, let’s take a trip down memory lane to a film that, shall we say, left quite an impression—Prem Aggan. The cinematic masterpiece that was meant to launch you into superstardom but instead left us all wondering if we had just witnessed a very elaborate prank.
Now, Fardeen, I understand that making a grand entrance into Bollywood is no easy feat. You have a legacy to uphold, being the son of the legendary Feroz Khan, and those are some big shoes to fill. But Prem Aggan? I can’t help but wonder if those shoes were a size too big, and you tripped over them, face-first, into a plot that defied logic, reason, and taste.
Let’s talk about your character, Suraj. Was he supposed to be the quintessential brooding lover or a misunderstood rebel? Because we got a perplexing mix of both, with a dash of unintentional comedy. The dialogues, Fardeen—oh, the dialogues! They were the kind that made us question not just the script but also our own life choices for watching it. And the delivery? Let’s just say that monotony and overacting are two sides of a coin that kept flipping throughout the film.
To put it mildly, the chemistry with Meghna Kothari was like watching two mannequins attempting to emote. The romance was as fiery as a damp matchstick, and the dramatic scenes? Let’s just say I’ve seen more emotion in a rock. And the dance sequences? Fardeen, you moved like someone who just discovered they have legs and aren’t sure how they work yet. You gave it your all, and for that, I salute you.
I’m sure at the time, it felt like a bold, daring move—starring in a film with a storyline as elusive as a coherent plot twist. Perhaps it was an attempt to carve out your niche, to be the poster boy for the new generation of Bollywood. Instead, Prem Aggan became one of those films that we look back on with a mix of nostalgia and horror, like a bad haircut from high school that we pretend never happened.
But let’s be honest, Fardeen: you’ve grown as an actor and person since then. You’ve made your mark in Bollywood uniquely, with performances ranging from surprisingly good to Prem Aggan. It’s all part of the journey, right? We all have those moments we’d rather forget, but they make for great stories later on—like the time you starred in Prem Aggan and somehow survived to tell the tale.
3) Himmatwala & Humshakals – Starring whoever was available at that time!
Dear Mr. Khan
I hope this letter finds you in good health. I’m not sure how it feels to have a failure for a film that you made with so much conviction and audacity. If this makes you feel any better, yes, I saw Humshakals. I saw it not because I wanted to see you return to your domain with slapstick comedy but because I had read so many bad things about it that it made me curious. Sajid, you said in an interview that you had a TV show where you started each episode by saying, “Hum pagal nahi hain, hamara dimaag kharaab hai.” Granted, it suits you well, but that was a line written in the 90s for you. You need to come out of your childhood/juvenile years. Like you made Himmatwala because it was your favorite childhood flick, you made Humshakals because it was your favorite pickup line, and you used it a zillion times in the script. Sweetheart, aisa nahi hota hai! When picking up actors, please remember Saif Ali Khan or John Abraham (Housefull 2) cannot make every film look glamorous and upmarket, not when you make them look and act like retards. Your heroines are limited to being eye candies, except I am not sure if the girls qualify as the same. This was not your first film, so I cannot give you the benefit of the doubt. You have made mistakes in the past, and then you go on to make blunders. Haven’t you learned anything from your super-confident sister? Do you remember you fell into the same clan as Zoya, Farhan, and Javed Akhtar? Do you know what it means to have a sense of humor, write, direct, or live? But I feel for you. I do. I apologize to all the critics who trashed Humshakals and called you names. Insaaniyat ab iss duniya mein nahi rahi Sajid Bhai. Therefore, I humbly request you to please visit Dr. M.M. Patil E C, Member of Indian Psychiatric Society Karnataka (no, his initials do not make up a word you can laugh at).
4) Love Story 2050 – Starring Mrs. Jonas & Jo Na Ho Saka!
I hope this letter finds you basking in the glow of your well-deserved global stardom, conquering new frontiers, and adding more feathers to your already crowded cap. But before we talk about your present-day successes, let’s rewind to a time when you, me, and many unsuspecting moviegoers were taken on a very… futuristic ride—Love Story 2050. Ah, yes, the sci-fi magnum opus that left us all wondering if we had accidentally stepped into a parallel universe where logic was optional.
Priyanka, you’ve always been known for your bold choices, but Love Story 2050 was on another level. It was the kind of daring that made us question, “Is this happening?”—and not in the best way. Let’s be honest: the year 2050 might still be a few decades away, but I’m pretty sure no one is expecting a future that looks like a cross between a video game glitch and a candy store explosion.
Your portrayal of Sana and Zeisha—yes, two characters in one film, because why not—was a brave attempt at showing versatility. But the film itself? It felt like someone threw a bunch of futuristic clichés into a blender and then hit “turbo” without checking the lid. Flying cars, talking teddy bears, and a love story that defied all time and space left us with more questions than answers.
The visual effects, Priyanka, oh, the visual effects! If only the technology had been as ambitious as the plot, we might have had something worth celebrating. Instead, we got a neon-colored, over-the-top spectacle that looked like it was designed on a budget meant for a birthday party, not a Bollywood blockbuster.
But let’s not forget your commitment to the role(s). You gave it your all, and we could see that you genuinely believed in the project. Your dedication is never in doubt, but sometimes even the most earnest efforts can’t save a script written in a galaxy far from what the audience was prepared for. The film’s dialogue was as futuristic as it was unintentionally hilarious.
I get it, Priyanka. You were exploring new territory, pushing boundaries, and trying to redefine what Bollywood could be. But Love Story 2050? That was too much, too soon, for all of us. It was like being promised a gourmet meal and a microwaved dinner instead. We all have moments of experimenting in the kitchen of life, right?
You’ve achieved incredible things despite everything, proving that one misstep doesn’t define a career. You’ve become a global icon, a force to be reckoned with, and we’re all so proud of you. But Love Story 2050? Let’s just agree to leave that one in the time capsule where it belongs, to be unearthed by future generations who might appreciate its unique brand of something.
5) Khoobsoorat – Starring Fawad Khan
Dear Sonam
Disasters are happening worldwide; I’m sure you read hashtags about them on Twitter. There are earthquakes, tsunamis, terrorist attacks, floods, famines, epidemics, wars, and then there are your movies. I’m an avid cinema lover, and it’s safe to say that I’ve seen enough movies to pass this judgment. Baby, ghar mein baith ke juice peel, shopping karo, Papa ki baat suno, do everything but stop doing films. Everyone is entitled to making mistakes and wrong decisions, but honey, galti har baar nahi ho sakti hai. Maybe the script does sound nice, and your character does seem significant, but you ruin it with your terrible voice and an insincere effort at acting. I watched Khoobsoorat only for Fawad Khan (I’m sure you know everyone has only for him), but I was annoyed beyond compare, thanks to you. Hence, it is my humble request, please don’t torture us anymore. Please stop acting. Please just stop. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
6) Neal ‘n’ Nikki – Starring Neil & Nikki
Dear Uday Chopra,
I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, perhaps lounging on a beach somewhere, far from the memories of specific cinematic adventures we’ll be diving into today. Let’s take a trip down memory lane to 2005—a year that gifted us with Neil ‘n’ Nikki, a film that, for better or worse, has etched itself into the annals of Bollywood history.
Uday, where do I even begin? Neil ‘n’ Nikki was a movie that promised a whirlwind of romance, fun, and modern-day relationships. Instead, we got an eye-popping, head-scratching rollercoaster that left most of us wondering if we had just witnessed the ultimate mid-2000s fever dream. You seemed to be having a blast playing the role of Neil, but for those of us watching, it was more of a cautionary tale about what happens when you mix over-the-top antics with a plot thinner than air.
Let’s talk about Neil, shall we? A character who seemed perpetually stuck in a state of frat-boy enthusiasm, as if he had just discovered the concept of “cool” and decided to overdose on it. You were charming, no doubt, but there’s only so much charm can do when it’s buried under layers of cringe-worthy dialogue, questionable fashion choices (those low-rise jeans, Uday!), and a storyline that seemed to be going everywhere and nowhere.
And then there’s Nikki, played by Tanisha Mukerji. The chemistry between Neil and Nikki was, how should I put this, like watching two people try to solve a jigsaw puzzle with pieces that don’t quite fit together? The film was supposed to be a fun romp through modern dating, but instead, it felt like an extended advertisement for how not to navigate relationships. The constant banter, the random escapades, and the forced love-hate dynamics were like a Bollywood rom-com on steroids, but without the essential dose of heart.
I have to ask, Uday, was there ever a moment during the making of Neil ‘n’ Nikki where you thought, “Are we sure about this?” Because, from where we were sitting, it seemed like a series of questionable decisions strung together by the thinnest of threads. The film was a bold attempt at being “different,” but sometimes different isn’t always better—especially when the result leaves the audience more bewildered than entertained.
7) Prem Ratan Dhan Payo – Bhai ka sanskaari cringe!
Dear Bhai,
I hope this letter finds you in high spirits, enjoying a quiet moment at your farmhouse or prepping for your next big release. But before we talk about the future, let’s stroll down memory lane to 2015—a year that brought us Prem Ratan Dhan Payo, a film that reminded us that sometimes, the past should probably stay in the past.
Salman Bhai, you’ve been synonymous with blockbuster hits, larger-than-life roles, and that unbeatable charm that makes fans go weak in the knees. So when Prem Ratan Dhan Payo was announced, with you returning as Prem—our beloved sanskaari hero from the 90s—expectations were sky-high. We thought we were in for a nostalgic treat, a trip back to the golden era of family dramas and melodic music. But what we got instead was, well, something entirely different.
Let’s talk about Prem, or should I say, the double dose of Prem. The quintessential good guy who can do no wrong sings and dances through life’s challenges, was back. But this time, it felt like he had overdosed on syrupy sweetness, leaving us with a sugar rush that wasn’t entirely pleasant. You were charming as always, but the character felt like a relic from a bygone era, struggling to find relevance in a world that had moved on from overly saccharine tales of family values and princely woes.
And then there was the story. Bhai, Prem Ratan Dhan Payo had all the elements of a grand Bollywood saga—palaces, royal intrigue, long-lost brothers, and that quintessential Salman Khan romance. But somehow, it all came together in a way that felt less like a coherent film and more like a never-ending wedding video. The opulence, the grandeur, the songs that felt designed to be played on a loop at every shaadi for the next decade—it was all a bit too much. It’s as if the movie was trying to be a celebration but forgot that even celebrations need a break.
Sonam Kapoor, your on-screen princess, was delightful, but the chemistry between you two felt like a distant cousin trying to make small talk at a family gathering. The romance was there, but it was buried under layers of elaborate set pieces, traditional costumes, and dialogue that could have been pulled from a 90s time capsule. The film tried so hard to capture the magic of the past, but it ended up feeling stuck in it.
I get it, Bhai. Prem Ratan Dhan Payo was supposed to be a return to the classic family entertainer, the kind of film that warms the heart and brings the whole family together. But in trying to recreate that magic, it forgot that the audience had evolved, that we wanted more than just a rehash of old tropes with a fresh coat of glitter. We were looking for a story with depth, characters with layers, and a narrative that could resonate beyond the confines of a palace.
But let’s not forget, Salman Bhai, that Prem Ratan Dhan Payo had its moments and flaws. It gave us some catchy tunes, a visual spectacle, and a reminder of why you’re still the beloved Prem of Indian cinema. It was a film that dared to be grand, to be larger-than-life, and in that, it succeeded—even if it did so in a way that left us with a bit of a cinematic hangover.
