“Mere uncle ki life pe bhi ek picture bana tha..Albert Pinto..unko gussa bahut aata tha,” says Prateik Babbar’s Pinto and this is one of the few genuinely funny lines in My Friend Pinto. Director Raaghav Dar is obviously inspired by the bumbling, golden-hearted Chaplin who runs into vases, people and disasters and somehow emerges unscathed, by Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro‘s corpse being bounced through Mumbai, the idea of a musical that is also a farce, a  comic crime caper  and a situational comedy. But sadly, it all  ceases to be funny when a Don’s surreal den shows us good actors like Zutshi and Makrand Deshpande hamming it up as if they were auditioning for a Channel V filler.

A dog is thrown down a vent, a man tries to kill another, a controlling wife and an irritated husband bicker in a car,  cartoonish grimaces and painted  teeth are made to pass off as punchlines and at some point you want to throw your nachos up in the air and run towards the exit for your life.

The problem with a film like this is that there are too many pretensions and too little substance. In the course of a night, Prateik’s fetching Pinto causes a minor accident at a railway station, rips the handle off a pretty  girl’s suitcase, breaks a tap, a bowl, a vase, jumps from a pipe into someone’s bedroom, rescues stray dogs (one of the few genuinely warm moments in the film that tie up his vulnerability in a big city with that of helpless animals and street kids surviving without love, warmth and shelter), helps a no gooder to win a windfall at a homestyle  casino where a roulette table spins crazily with a Laxmi painting at its centre, pulls out a drunk, retired actress from a car wreck, sets the  car on fire accidentally and runs into the pretty girl from the station again and sings her out of her misery..and this ain’t the half of it.

The best part is Prateik ofcourse and there is Kalki Koechlin who is always watchable because she defies every Hindi film stereotype by being gawky, awkward, devoid of all vanity and utterly, essentially herself. The scene where the two bond over a wise song about life and rain dance is sweet but moments like this are few and far between.  Though it is easy to get the allegory of a pure, connected soul saving other lost souls in a city adrift in rain puddles and traffic jams and a sense of isolation, it is hard to  take it seriously or lightly or even register it  because it is so disjointed, episodic and meaningless.

The scene in Divya Dutta’s house where a dog, a pair of gun toting twins and Prateik are hiding in a closet while Makrand Deshpande and Divya slug it out is almost incredible in the extent of its ridiculousness. Not an easy film to watch if you are looking for a plot,  a story and coherence. Or even a few laughs. Though it has moments that hint at the promise that this film could have lived up to.

Reema Moudgil is the author of  Perfect Eight (http://www.flipkart.com/b/books/perfect-eight-reema-moudgil-book-9380032870?affid=unboxedwri )