Before watching I Hate Luv Storys I was a Bollywood virgin. I was aware of some of its conventions – its vibrancy, its musicality, the way it revels in artifice – but beyond that I was painfully naïve. So, armed with my postage-stamp sized amount of knowledge of Hindi cinema, I set about popping my Bollywood cherry. Sadly, like so many hungover 16 year olds, I find myself instantly regretting this awkward first encounter. Bloated, dull and repetitive, I Hate Luv Storys has nothing to offer beyond reheated romantic clichés from Hollywood and Bollywood alike.
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