One of the hallmarks of Bollywood cinema in recent years has been its almost single-minded purpose to imitate Hollywood and MTV to such extremes that the weekly offerings of the Indian marquee often play as parodies of parodies (that's right, I'm talking to you, Kambakkhth Ishq). The main purpose of Bollywood cinema is no longer to tell stories or to give actors characters to play, but rather to rev up the hype machine, produce chartbusting musical numbers, and to guarantee an initial weekend box office take which will recover all of the cost of making the film. High art mainstream Bollywood is NOT.

But then it doesn't pretend to be either. So imagine my delight when in the midst of that swell of mediocrity came Imtiaz Ali's delightfully charming (and similarly charmingly delightful) 2007 feature "Jab We Met". His second directorial feature combined all the ingredients of popular cinema: a rigid-boy-meets-garrulous-girl love story full of comedy, song, dance and even (dare I say it?) intellect. Whatever was going on on the sets of "Jab We Met" clearly worked -- the story (while not entirely original) seemed fresh and interesting, compounded by the sincere turn put in by Shahid Kapur and the dizzyingly enthusiastic and big-hearted performance of Kareena Kapoor. Clearly, a major new talent had arrived.

If only. His follow-up to the sparkling "Jab We Met" is a disappointingly stale "Love Aaj Kal". The main gripe one has with the film is that (unlike "Jab We Met") there is no story. None. There is no proper plot, nothing that feels like a sequence of events. In fact, at the end of the film, one has to really stretch to come up with anything that actually "happens". I guess Meera (Deepika Padukone) got married. That counts . . . barely.

The problem is that Ali seems to have been seduced by the all-show-but-no-substance writing formula of Aditya Chopra-Karan Johar-Sanjay Bhansalli that made films like the emotionally dead weight "Mohabbatein", "Kabhie Khushi Kabhi Gham", and even the oh-so-heinous "Devdas" commercial successes. It's a shame, as one expected Ali to come up with something both entertaining and thoughtful.

So what went wrong? It seems that Ali was acting more as observer than as story-teller. The main sequences of "Love Aaj Kal" are the director's musings on the modern interplay of the sexes, a sort of deduction of contemporary romantic and sexual behavior that elicits remarkably little insight. Yes, the main characters Jai (Saif Ali Khan) and Meera throw a break-up party once they realize their relationship has run its course. Is it unusual for a Hindi film? Yes, undoubtedly. Is it especially revealing or interesting to the modern viewer? Regrettably, no.

Though neither of the concurrent "storylines" are gripping, one must admit that the love story between Veer Singh (Saif Ali Khan) and Harleen (Giselle Monteiro) is infinitely more interesting than the one between Jai and Meera. Why? Perhaps it's because Veer and Harleen are infinitely more sympathetic than their shallow modern counterparts. Or perhaps it's because in their world, things actually happen. Like events. And experiences.

The other problem is that the casting is rather off. Serving as both lead and producer, Saif Ali Khan comes across as a bit too old for the role of Jai. Though Saif is undoubtedly a fine actor with terrific comic timing, he isn't presented as well as he ought to be here. He suffers the same issue Aamir Khan had in "Fanaa" wherein he came off as haggard and bloated next to the litheness of the heroine. He isn't hindered by such constraints as Veer because Veer is more dimensional and has that beard and turban to hide behind. It's a shame to be forced to evaluate an actor's performance at such a superficial level, but the writer has given us little else to consider.

Which brings us to the film's other main pitfall: Deepika Padukone. Ms. Padukone rightly has her legions of admirers smitten by her perfect cheek bones and her perfect hair. Unfortunately, her physical charms are not enough to counter her glaring limitations as an actress. The role requires someone of a natural wit and charm to play with the hero's jocular declarations on modern love (in essence he needs a foil whom he will both find attractive and maddening, a la Aamir Khan and Juhi Chawla in their best work). Deepika, having none of the natural wit, acidic humor, or comic timing of Kajol, Juhi Chawla or Kareena Kapoor, comes off as a one-dimensional mannequin who operates in two modes: smilingly nice and frustratingly nervous. She needs major work on her dialogue delivery and she ought to familiarize herself with something called voice modulation. Her thick Indian accent jars embarrassingly against her supposed British upbringing.

The supporting cast is arguably the strongest element of the film: Rishi Kapoor is as natural as ever, giving the elder Veer Singh all the romantic gusto and melancholy one expects from an old fashioned romantic. Neetu Singh shows up at the end of the film as an older Harleen, though the cameo lasts literally 90 seconds. The younger Harleen, played by Brazillian model Giselle Monteiro, is convincing as an emotionally fractured Punjabi damsel: Monteiro hits exactly the right note with her furtive glances and cowed body language. In many ways, she steals the film from the Bollywood stalwarts by actually inhabiting the character she's given to play (novel, isn't it?). Admittedly, she lacks the dancing ability needed to pull off the boisterous "Thoda Thoda Pyar." It must be nearly impossible for non-Indian actresses to attempt to enact all the "nakhras" and "adaayein" associated with India's legendary screen mavens like Rekha and Sridevi.

In the end, "Love Aaj Kal" will probably make tons of money and maybe even inspire a few copycats. What it won't do is instruct or dramatize the trials and trivialities of modern love stories.