Race returns. And reveals more skin. If the first part managed to light some fire, the sequel doesn't even carry matchsticks. Instead, the movie relies on its three ever-bare-ready women.
So there is a Padukone, forever dressed for the beach; a Fernandes, all pouts and legs; and a flirty Patel doing some fruity talk with her boss (Anil Kapoor, the only one who seems to be enjoying this no-fuel drive).
Coming to the men, Saif Ali Khan is racing against John Abraham. John's face doesn't say much. Thank god for his biceps, they express better. The muscles breathe, dance, stretch, stiffen and even seem to grumble as he tames a 'typhoon' in the ring.
Saif tries hard to match John's brawny steps. The result — another shirtless torso — lays bare the glitzy routes that director duo Abbas Mustan take to camouflage a flimsy chase.
Saif is out to avenge the death of his love (Bipasha in a car-cameo). Later, he turns Deepika's knight in designer armour, plucking out bombs from under zipping cars. There is also a heist of a religious hue, which doesn't add much to the story, except thrusting Saif into a tunnel.
The action assumes unbelievable heights as all the men and their women fight it out on a plane.
Skip it.