As it turns out, the showing perks up ‘ABCD 2’. A little. When Prabhudeva is on the floor, there is a snap and pop, even though his moves are familiar. A couple of numbers do crackle. There are two dancers in here who are amazing. But the rest of them, and their sequences, turn into the seen-this-so-what’s-new glaze. And when the film stops to look around for a story, which it does much too frequently in its two- and-a-half-hour run time, it turns banal and listless.
A group of underdog hip-hop dancers, reviled for copying, want to resurrect their name. In the movie’s beginning is its end. The only way a film like this can beat predictability is to deliver as many surprises as it can. But the writing department is the weakest: clichés abound as the characters whirl about frantically in an attempt to shed cardboard.