Of Drona and other inconsequential things

So obviously this post is not on the current financial crisis, since the likes of Krugman have been commenting on it and have received Nobels for their effort , and I cant obviously better that !(heh), so would stick to movie reviews which are more my realm. But as an aside, I should seriously stop giving the impression that I am blessed with the intelligence of a housefly who likes reading. People at my work place are quite willing and beginning to believe that, but impression management in the office environs will be the subject of another painful post. Sufficient to say that I do understand math and finance and CDO's and all those subjects outside the realm of your regular Economic Times reading house fly.
So back to Drona (pronounced drone (ur lazy and boring male bees) and rhymes with groan). I think I sat through the flick in a state of suspended stupor, dozing off occasionally since what comes to mind are intermittent scenes which are scarring nevertheless.
So AB junior taking his junior status to heart plays an oversized Harry Potter , the uncanny resemblance to Privet Drive and his bedroom making it clear , even to the meanest intelligence. He is surrounded by a clan of protectors, a sample set drawn from the United Nations, signifying solidarity and unity in the face of Rizz Raizada oppression (a lesson imbibed by all governments while dealing with the liquidity crisis). Talk about drawing parallels!! Coz if that was not the intent, I don’t know what was the purpose of the motley crew, except Priyanka Chopra of course. She made hr stance abundantly clear, when she sang the "Drona Drona" number, in praise of the great one with a dance routine to match. She was his greatest fan, philosopher and guide and the female lead (they could not afford different people for these characters I guess).
Since the director realized that he could not appeal to the rock-on going audience, after a few shots he decided to make it a complete family entertainer, to hedge risks so to speak. He needed to. So enter the mom (or the only one who could be persuaded to play the mom, purely out of maternal instincts), who begged to be turned into stone before she could see her son embarrass himself further.
So Drona who till then looked as stoned as his mom, comes into his avatar, by donning a Mahabharata costume (so that’s why the name!! and of course not the other way around, since there is no other reason why he should be a Drona and not say "The-Indian-Hancock", but I digress), overcomes his fear of water by coming face to face with himself in his costume (guess that was scarier than any water could ever be) and visits Baghdad styled secret cities. After which the director having by then lost faith in the human race, introduces a horse into the script, mass appeal so to speak , presumably hoping for some equestrian following for his vapid script. The horse is whiter than the Drona and tries to conceal him for the rest of the film, and manages quite successfully I guess, since the only other thing I remember about the film is a black and white chessboard fight and I-want-to-be-heath-leger-Rizz-Raizada making grotesque faces..