Yama Dheerudu is above all else a shockingly fetishistic motion picture. It fetishes acts of brutal violence; it fetishes gorgeously preserved early-70s muscle cars; in an extremely distant third place, it manages, just barely, to fetishes naked women. But mostly violence and cars: the former presented by director Patrick Lussier with lingering, worshipful slow-motion, the latter in loving tracking shots that glide across the vehicles with the rapt attention but awed distance of a gentle, shy lover. And both are further given an erotic gloss with 3-D that serves almost no discernible narrative purpose whatsoever, and isn't even particularly amusing in the tawdry fashion of a Piranha 3D, serving mainly to call still further attention to how languid is the violence, and how gleaming are the cars. I guess Indian Film Censor board Had done lot of scissors craftsmanship for this movie. It's something of a curiosity to see a movie in which 3-D can be at once so tacky and so restrained, especially a film that was "Shot in 3D!" as the ad campaign yells desperately, assuring an audience that has quickly learned to avoid post-production 3-D conversions at all costs. I wish, in fact, that Yama Dheerudu had been made in the 1970s, because if it had, it would almost certainly be about 85 minutes long, tops. That would have let it dart in, do its filthy business, and dart out, and we'd all be thoroughly charmed by its excess. Instead, it is a modern film with a modern film running time, and that means among other things that it has a positively grueling middle section, when the propulsive energy of the beginning and the camp Satanism and excess of the ending aren't there, and we just get to watch scene after scene of Milton and Piper driving angrily. A film of this sort absolutely cannot afford to ever be boring, and the fact that nearly the entire second act of Yama Dheerudu just wanders perfunctorily along from one geyser of violence to the next is single-handedly the reason I can't actually turn all my enthusiasm for so many parts of the movie into an actual recommendation. It's tawdry enough to be tasteless fun, for sure, but there is simply nothing fun about feeling a script spinning its wheels, and for a solid 30 minute stretch, that's all that Yama Dheerudu has to offer. Its Just - Hell on Wheels.