How would you perceive a desi superhero? He's the person whose outfit is sewed by his mother. Furthermore, sooner or later, he flies to the neighborhood sabzi mandi on the grounds that mother needs lauki. Sounds funny!
 

The story revolves around Mrs Dhillon (Amrita Singh) and her son Aman (Tiger Shroff), a martial arts instructor who is afraid of heights and dogs, and is often the butt of pranks in the school where he teaches. The industrialist Malhotra (Kay Kay Menon) runs factories that are ruining the air and water in the vicinity. Mrs D stands up to him when he demands to buy land belonging to her and her neighbors, including a patch on which stands a sacred tree.
 

Not long afterward, we meet Malhotra’s hired goon Raka, a mountainous fellow played by WWA and WWE wrestler Nathan Jones. When Aman and Raka clash one stormy night, an episode combining lightning and an ode to the Sikh religion end up giving Aman his Superman-like strength, his Spidey sense, the gift of flight plus the ability to absorb knowledge and skills at an incredible pace. Since he must remain incognito, Aman takes on the moniker Flying Jatt for his superhero avatar.

Also in the picture is Aman’s colleague, the schoolteacher Kirti (Jacqueline Fernandez), who is the film’s designated female-person-for-the-hero-to-fall-in-love-with.

The first half of A Flying Jatt has moments of fun — I loved that despite being a superhero he has a fear of heights, so he flies very close to the ground. But post-interval, laughter takes a back seat. The film trips on the feeble love story between the Jatt and Kirti, a giggling schoolteacher, played by Jacqueline Fernandez. 

Shroff as a charming, unendurably sincere entertainer, helps me to remember those early Salman Khan days when he was a thin person with long hair who pluckily attempted to act, which is an awesome begin - yet too bad, this poor chap has all the discourse abilities of Hrithik Roshan.

In Dishoom Jacqueline Fernandez gave us glimpses of what she might be when she is treated as more than a showpiece. She is back to the dolly routine in A Flying Jatt, playing a bespectacled Barbie with constantly widened eyes, who does not speak, but squeaks. She comes into her own only while dancing to Beat pe booty. But c’mon Ms, you are more than just your booty.

The climax is painful and -- as with all films that yearn to be really big films without having the budget -- looks more and more pathetic.

Of course, A Flying Jatt doesn’t aim to be anything more than an entertaining cartoon. That’s not a problem. But even cartoons need to be compelling and have a basic coherence. Here the narrative alternates between elaborate fights with tacky digitized backdrops and randomly tacked-on sermons about pollution and even the Sikh faith.