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The incandescent Tabu makes Amitabh Bachchan run across the London fields… “Just to see if you’ve the energy to do anything else,” she tells him, her tongue firmly in cheek.

“Cheeni Kum” is probably the sauciest, slickest, and most scrumptious romantic comedy you’ll see in the Hindi language in a long time.

She’s in London for a holiday. He is a cantankerous sarcastic chef who can’t take a snub even when it’s served up on a platter.

“Cheeni Kum” makes you forget there’s a difference of 30 years between the woman and the man. That’s the magic of pure acting. The magic of two of the finest actors at work as they create an ebullient alchemy.

Also in this mellow ode to love, are an 85-year-old mom (Zohra Sehgal) living life king-sized, and a seven-year-old terminally-ill girl called Sexy (Swini Khara) who takes the chef as an intimate friend and watches all adult DVDs he gets her, since she won’t get a chance to do so later.

Then there is the heroine’s Gandhian father who can’t stop reminding his son-in-law-to-be of his autumnal age. And last but certainly not the least, there’s the churlish chef’s kitchen staff comprising some of the most sparkling cameo-actors you’ve seen.

Unarguably, one of the finest directorial talents in this millennium, Balki just sweeps that age gap under the carpet.

It’s hard to decide in which capacity Balki scores higher marks - as director or dialogue writer. Caustic and crisp, modern and passionate, the words weave magic across this intelligent yet spontaneous comedy of romantic errors.

The flavour of the exchanges between the surly chef in London and the serene Indian girl from Delhi, who makes the cardinal mistake of criticising the arrogant chef’s Hyderabadi biryani, are distinctly pungent and peppery.

Just like the dishes from the kitchen of the Indian restaurant, the brilliant banter between Amitabh and Tabu is light on top, cooked just right and served at the right temperature.

As the relationship between the couple grows, you sense undercurrents of defiant and mischievous feelings trickling out of the verbal banter.

But then Amitabh and Tabu are that kind of actors. They imbue every encounter on the rain-slickened streets of London into an occasion to celebrate life.

Tabu is a natural scene-stealer and there seems to be no end to the surprises Amitabh springs on us. To imagine “Cheeni Kum” without Amitabh is to imagine that pivotal Hyderabadi biryani that brings the couple together without saffron.

This intimate, amusing and warm character-study of love and its sudden appearance in lives that have accepted its non-presence derives considerable energy from the supporting cast.

But Paresh Rawal, who as Amitabh’s outraged father-in-law-to-be, is surprisingly bland. Zohra Sehgal, as Amitabh’s spunky mom, and little Swini give life to the narrative.

There are moments in this quirky, captivating and curvaceous cinema that touch the highest notes of drama without getting hysterical. However, one does notice flaws in the second half.

What makes “Cheeni Kum” so unique?

While Balki’s word-spin takes the romance into areas of absolutely seductive brightness, London and Delhi have been captured by P.C. Sreeram’s articulate cinematography. Ilayaraja’s talcum-fresh melodies add to the emotions.

It could also be the magic between Amitabh and Tabu, who seem to look into each other’s eyes and souls with such warmth that you forget their age difference completely.

But there’s more to it. “Cheeni Kum” is a film where the words match the thoughts of the characters so well that you forget someone else wrote the dialogues for the unlikely lovers

“Good Boy Bad Boy” or “Dhoop Chaon…” - last I remember Ashwini Chowdhary had made a lovely sun-kissed film called “Dhoop”.

So what did we miss here?

“Good Boy Bad Boy” is like a prescription to eternal cine-phobia. There’s no reason why this film should’ve been made in the first place. And if it has been made, there’s no valid reason for us to sit through the ordeal of good boy Tusshar Kapoor with oiled hair, button-up shirt taking on bad boy Emraan in scruffy jeans, stubble, sundry sunglasses.

For a while the twosome frolic in the campus to Himesh Reshammiya’s ‘young’, noisy and breathy tracks. Then they decide to join up and have fun. They do. We don’t! Simple.

The campus is a textbook of idiocy. The teachers, flirty and buxom Sushmita Mukherjee and sundry clowns, are balanced out by principal Paresh Rawal who comes up with arguably his most unaccomplished performance in five years.

It’s not that Paresh doesn’t try to lend credibility to his role of a principal. He tries to bring a sense of order to a campus infested by punks and other street-vile types who don’t seem to know how to hold a book right. And the only test they seem capable of passing is the HIV-positive one.

It’s tough to tell what director Chaudhary hoped to achieve through this classroom of compulsive craziness. Maybe he wanted to make a “Main Hoon Na” of the punk generation. Maybe he wanted to build a pyramid of laughter out of youthful angst. Maybe he wanted us to forget he made “Dhoop” not too long ago.

The director fails on all counts, but one. It’s easy to forget that this director had not too long ago displayed enough sensitivity to make us hopeful for his future.

What works is the principal casting. Tusshar and Hashmi are good and bad without trying too hard. But their efforts to remain true to ‘tripe’ defeats their very purpose of being in the film. The two leading ladies try to be glamorous and sassy.

Isha has lost a lot of weight, even on her face. Gone with the avoirdupois is her ability to emote that we saw in Subhash Ghai’s “Kisna”. Tanushree Dutta is so badly styled you wonder what keeps her from toppling under the weight of her clumsiness.

Ditto the film.

Tackily produced and clumsily packaged “Good Boy, etc is an embarrassment to producer Subhash Ghai

Director Anurag Basu seems to have an obsession with heights. In “Murder”, “Gangster” and now “Metro”, characters are seen hanging down or just sitting on ledges of skyscrapers.

In “Metro”, he even gets his rock band to climb atop a building and strum guitars. And when it isn’t guitars, it’s Irrfan and Konkona getting on a rooftop to scream their lungs out.

It’s meant to be therapeutic and we’ll take Anurag Basu’s word for it. “Metro” falters only in parts. Some of the narrative’s punctuation marks are overemphasised. And the spiral of human relationships often seems to replicate Mike Nichols’ “Closer”.

And yes, Billy Wilder’s romantic comedy “The Apartment” serves as a direct reference point for the Kay Kay-Kangana-Sharman triangle.

But make no mistake, this is a highly original film with a voice that seems to reverberate across a limitless canvas of feelings of people in a concrete jungle.

You know you are being sucked into the lives of characters who are largely losers in the garb of white-collar dreamers, looking for love and warmth in a cold, heartless city.

After “Gangster”, Anurag Basu has got another winner in “Metro” - a subtle, sly look at a bunch of characters locked in the throes of infidelity.

Basu harnesses his narrative into a fiesta of reined-in feelings, all indicating the growth of a city that cares little about one’s sensitivities.

He has an incredible eye for performances. Every actor is nearly flawless in the chaos of corroded commitments in the city. Always witty, “Metro” moves through a laconic labyrinth of laughter and some stifled sobs.

Sanjeev Dutta’s dialogues are very indicative of the characters’ inner world.They slice right into the characters’ hearts and give us an insight into the machinations of people so busy realising their dreams that they even forget to sleep.

On the negative side, “Metro” fails to connect us with the characters beyond their love life. If they have a life beyond their heart, we don’t see it.

The film should be seen as a mellow, melancholic and sharp look at love and sex in the city. The characters move in and out of some skilfully written scenes.

Despite a frail chemistry with Shiney Ahuja, Shilpa Shetty gives a nuanced performance. Bobby Singh’s camera captures Shilpa in agonized silhouettes. Kay Kay, as her insensitive husband, has a thankless role that he performs with rare understanding.

While Sharman and Kangana are surprisingly chemistry-less in their screen relationships, Irrfan and Konkona come across as the warmest couple of this jigsaw of life. Watch them in the seashore sequence and savour their outstanding emotive faculties.

“Metro” is manoeuvred forward by a melee of delicious ideas … like composer Pritam and his rock band appearing as narrators to sing their songs. The rain-motif pelts down on the plot, creating pockets of pain, desire and longing.

But the film could have done with better editing. Akiv Ali cuts the material brutally … but not deep enough