Keep drip-dropping, Gas, an exercise in futility

Hellllooo, why the one-and-a-half generous stars for Shabd which actually leaves you wordless? Well, that's purely for debutante director Leena Yadav's attempt to articulate something (strange) about a Booker prize-winning novelist's effort to vault over a writer's block.
Hmmm, otherwise this is an oh-no, even reminding you slightly of Euro-cinema's Faithless (showcasing Liv Ulmann), apna Hollywood's Sleuth (1972) and more so, of Deathtrap (82), Toodle off with your poodle, then, with Michael Caine (now Sanjay Dutt, puffing Cigarettes Light), Dyan Cannon (Aishwarya Rai, as infuriatingly fake as an 11-rupee note) and Christopher Reeve (Zayed Khan, hey dude, get real). No feni or games though.
Even so furiously, Mr. Booker bangs away at an antique typewriter.
Meanwhile, special effects or letters of the alphabet keep drip-dropping on your head as if from a font-head. Next : Writerji connives an illicit romance between his fake-wife and the Sardar joke-cracking dude, in order to construct a nah-nah-narrative for his next novel. Which, incidentally, the Walrus publishers (big brothers of Penguin) refuse to accept. Gasp, An exercise in futility this, at long last, the mad writer's confined to a lunatic asylum.
Actually, you might go loony yourself. Forewarned is forearmed.

Please explain to me the underlined group of words. Thanks.