Rating: 2 stars out of 5. 

For those of us who preserve fond memories of A Wednesday, it is becoming increasingly painful to watch Neeraj Pandey's fall. From a promising storyteller with a penchant for dialogue, he has lessened to a confused commander of force-feed filmmaking. Also, Read Aiyaary music review: The soundtrack of this Rochak Kohli-Ankit Tiwari album fails to strike a chord​

Consider his latest film Aiyaary, a full-blown surgical strike on the eardrums, in which the prettiest of actions — buying noodles, boarding a plane — are giddily overscored like the arrival of King Kong. A shot is not a shot unless hammered home with drumbeats. And a film is not a film unless stretched beyond three hours.  

Debuting in this noisy thrillerscape, as replacement of the PadMan, is Glad Man Sidharth Malhotra, who is simply so glad to share the same film as Manoj Bajpayee, Anupam Kher, Naseeruddin Shah and Adil Hussain, that he just lets himself, and his wardrobe, be. Sid plays a disgruntled Intelligence-operative who jeopardizes his own unit to bring to justice a fraudulent system. In a way, he is India's answer to Edward Snowden, our very own Citizen Bore, complete with surveillance kits and border-hopping wit. 

This good-looking jock becomes a liability for his commanding boss, colonel Abhay Singh, played by a mallen-streaked Manoj Bajpayee. To secure the secrets of his covert 'department' — and thus the larger national interest — Abhay must outfox his own protege, even execute him if needs arise.   

The above cat-and-mouse routine sounds promising, at least in scale. The drama sweeps from the broadways of Delhi to the technoscapes of London, with interludes in Kashmir and Cairo. Among its many themes, the delicate politics of military corruption is warily explored, an all-powerful 'arms lobby' is constantly hinted at, two real-life scams are alluded to, and a love story is thrown in to pacify it all. Actress Rakul Preet Singh, who enjoys decent screen time, is entrusted with cool hacking skills—a rare finesse for Hindi film heroines which she proudly flaunts by breaking into Sidharth's bank account and ordering a dress for herself. Towards the end, the balding greatness of Anupam Kher ascends into the film, flagging off a clueless cameo. 

But so much for what? 

Herein lies Neeraj Pandey's biggest trickery, his true Aiyaary. He busies his audience with a plot that asserts its own urgency, simply to cover up his lack of taiyaary. In a desperate bid to become a The A-Team/The Bourne Ultimatum/A Few Good Men, Aiyaary strays way too far too soon, only to return and be saved by a gracious Naseeruddin Shah.  

The climax, rescued by Shah's roundabout yet effective monologue, is a satisfying dessert. Acting wholly with his eyes, he narrates a heartbreaking tale of love and loss—an intimate and self-contained story, yet wholly connected to the larger events of the film. 

Aiyaary is a campy spy-thriller trying too hard to be something else. The performances are weak, the cinematography whirly and the dialogues gimmicky. It annoys in length and scope, and disheartens with its sheer wastage of talent. A little more conviction would have made it interesting, had its director listened to his heart. 

As Sidharth's character Major Jay Bakshi would put it, 'Listening is a fine art.'