CEASE, desist, enough. The most over-used word in romance has officially become Darcy, and it has to stop!

Yes, fine, I love Pride and Prejudice too, but we have already had Colin Firth as the Jane Austen original Fitzwilliam Darcy in the BBC version, and as a modernised Bridget Jones version called Mark Darcy, Martin Henderson as his latest evolution as American businessman William Darcy in this film, and we're soon to have a Bridget sequel AND a new Keira Knightley version of the original.

Overload complete. Please move on to plunder some new 19th century work before audiences lose their minds completely. I mean, someone, somewhere must have a new idea?

But back to Bollywood, as this is where director Gurinder Chadha (Bend it Like Beckham) has decided to stake her claim.

It could be argued on a level that 19th century England is similar to India today as far as arranged marriages are concerned, and Chadha seems to think this is more than enough of a tenuous connection around which to build an entire reworking.

So we have Mr and Mrs Bakshi (not Bennet), who have four daughters (not five). Mrs Bakshi is keen to get them fixed up with some moneyed bachelors, so imagine her delight when two arrive at once - hunky Mr Bingley, sorry Balraj (Naveen Andrews), and his American friend Darcy (The Ring's Martin Henderson).

Balraj and Darcy take an instant fancy to the eldest Bakshi girls, Jaya and Lalita (former Miss India turned Bollywood superstar Aishwarya Rai) - but, wouldn't you know it, a pest named Wickham and a buffoon of a relative get in the way.

Around a mish-mashed plot of the source novel, Chadha has decided to feature Bollywood musical numbers, which are truly the most toe-curlingly horrendous episodes I have ever witnessed.

The men sing ditties like "Hey good looking, what's up you electric live wire", and these overlong, bhangra grating nightmares are neither witty nor remotely interesting.

If it was a spoof, then we might be laughing with these people as they warble, instead of at them.

But the problems with the film are more numerous and obvious than even this. Primarily, if Bollywood was going to travel, white people in Britain would have got it by now.

Rai is a clinical actress at best, worthy of American daytime television, but the way her character is written as a pre-menstrual nightmare for the haplessly-charming Henderson does her no favours. Detrimentally, her no-kissing clause makes the entire romance fizzle its way towards no more than a big hug.

You can see why they thought this might be a good idea, but a Pride and Prejudice where Wickham brutally gets someone pregnant and then abducts someone else to take them to the London Eye has no conception of where it's aiming or what it's doing.

This has no claim to the title Bride and Prejudice as the enjoyment has been utterly Lost in Translation.