HATE STORY has a combo of skin show as well as melodious music which adds tremendous value to the project. This film has the potential to woo the masses and the youth, thus springing a big surprise at the ticket window. The film will turn out to be a profitable venture for its makers.
Hate Story 3 has more turns than a road in the hills. After a point, it becomes a futile task to figure out who’s chasing who. And that makes you wait for another bathing scene. Be glad that Pandya obliges us everytime.
There are bed bits with generous displays of slithering lingerie on chest-and-thigh, and surprisingly for a time when 'boldness' is being dealt with by archaic moral standards, lots of open mouth-and-tongue action.
Hate Story 3 is not the film that you hate when it ends; you hate yourself for venturing out to watch such a film. Vikram Bhatt's story keeps extending itself, not knowing when to climax. A gruelling 131 minutes later, you experience neither the rush of adrenalin nor the thrill, forget about eroticism. Not even in a single frame.
There is absolutely nothing to fall in love with in Hate Story 3. It is the tale of two very, very crabby men who hate each other with all their guts and hatch silly conspiracies. It rides on a string of twists and turns that create neither tension nor menace. Worse, they do not even make sense. Every now and then the film stops dead to make room for steamy sequences staged in swimming pools, smoky nightclubs and, of course, between the sheets, to the accompaniment of raunchy numbers.
In an attempt not to make these films seem like pure steam fests, the makers usually thrown in a revenge drama angle. So true to the fabric of this franchise, here too there's a suspense drama around some ugly sibling rivalry woven in. However, while the film is good-looking, the plot is convoluted. There's bizarre justification for the poison-ivy women and avaricious despots.