Total Siyapaa shifts more from being an Indo-Pak love affair to a comedy of errors with Pakistani and Indian characters.

No doubt the first thing you’ll notice during the opening credits of Total Siyapaa is Ali Zafar’s visage. His face and his smile dominate an opening sequence in which his character, Aman, also a musician by profession, is walking on the streets of London on the way to meet his girlfriend Asha, while speaking to her on the phone. On the way he makes an unfortunate joke about bombs and is overheard by a police officer (or possibly a taller and older Mr Bean) who proceeds to alert the entire British police force and arrests Aman for suspicious activity.

Thus the tone is set for the rest of the movie as Aman prepares to meet Asha’s parents and prove to them that his being a Pakistani Muslim doesn’t make him any less normal than anyone else. Unfortunately, the task is hardly as simple as it sounds and Aman finds himself stuck between a rock and a hard place as he balances being ‘normal’ with trying to a remedy a potentially devastating turn of events.

Not surprisingly there are lots of laughs during the film’s running time and the director uses every opportunity to have Aman squirming, muttering and in all kinds of discomfort. This won’t be Ali Zafar’s breakout film, but his comic timing and role as a soft spoken and unaggressive suitor (unlike the alphas that we all aim to be) are the best moments in the film and will leave you wondering what you would be doing in a similar situation. Despite the discomfort experienced watching as a Pakistani is derided for simply bleeding green, Ali Zafar delivers in Urdu some of the best lines in the movie — along with Kirron Kher who hilariously mentions Karachi as if it were a madhouse.

There are a lot of loose ends in the film and ultimately, as Ali mentions in his interview, the movie shifts more from being an Indo-Pak love affair to a comedy of errors with Pakistani and Indian characters. There are a number of subplots taking place as well which do little to advance the story — the most annoying of which involves Asha’s brother, Manav, and his conflict with his Pakistani neighbours which ends with them beating a police officer up in a failed attempt to right the wrongs of our shared history.

What Total Siyapaa suffers from is a lack of resolve and the story finds itself torn between dealing with the weight of the main idea behind it and staying light enough for both sides of the border to find it easy to swallow. That each and every character from the subcontinent in the movie hails from Punjab reflects once again the narrow view of the script, especially when considering how diverse the subject is. The result is a film driven by actors with intent but dragged too long as they are sent on a chase with few places to go. Anupam Kher and Kirron Kher are the most believable in their hapless and tormented roles. Yami Gautum works and Sara Khan scandalises.

An interesting point to note during Total Siyapaa is how it has been censored. The dialogue which earlier peeved Shahid Afridi is curiously missing from the film and there is at least one scene near the end with a very conspicuous cut during a conversation between Aman and Asha — hardly a surprise considering the sensitive nature of the subject, but something I wish we could watch if only our people were indeed a bit more tolerant.

So what works in the film? Ali Zafar’s timing, some of the dialogues and the music. In fact, the music, entirely by Ali Zafar, is one of its bigger strengths. While Palat Meri Jaan is obviously Bollywood, Nahi Maaloom with its Middle Eastern beat and the fast-paced title track are the catchiest tracks of the lot, and one that I will certainly be listening to over the next few days. — Shayan Shakeel