For Bollywood, where repression masquerading as respectability is still largely the name of the mainstream game, to create a leading man who can confess to being led by his nether regions, is, um, uplifting. But the sheer
unevenness of the proceedings shows just how difficult it is to go all the way in this kind of film, where a man is a hunterrr, tick, and a woman, well, prey. Tick, tick.
Mandar Ponkshe ( Devaiah) , whose name itself suggests mild lewdness going by the reaction of his two best friends, makes the connection between sex-and- physical-need. Out loud. That he also equates it to daily elimination, which is also `a need’, sets the tone for ‘Hunterrr’ : that it will state the obvious, and underline it. No subtle notes here.
So there goes our Mandar, tracing a? confusing? timeline. The film zigs into the past, zags to the present, jumps back a little, repeating this pattern while showing us how he gets into the sex thing in the first place. And how he progresses, from a panting teen to a horny young fellow to an adult with uncontrolled lust, where after sowing ‘hundred, not out’, wild oats, he is looking to settle. Or is he?