Creatively speaking, sequels are a tricky territory for Bollywood storytellers for one main reason: the bankruptcy of worthwhile ideas to form an engaging two-hour motion picture with the same cast. In Fukrey’s case, given the idiosyncratic nature of its premise and characters, one can see franchise potential straight from the drawing board, even though one would question exactly what newfangled narratives one can bring to the table, given the limited options of the story’s setting.

The premise goes something like this: four friends find themselves at the mercy of a local underworld gang leader called Bholi Punjaban, because one of them has the knack to predict lottery numbers from weird, symbolic dreams. The leader of the lot (also the best buddy of the one who has these dreams) makes the right connections, linking up symbols into real-world numbers.

As one can expect, the premise got old fast in the last movie. With exception to the main duo — the dreamer (Varun Sharma) and the connection maker (Pulkit Samrat) — the other two friends (Ali Fazal, Manjot Singh) don’t have much to contribute to the story, other than helping out with gags or providing moral support. Their girlfriends (Vishakha Singh, Priya Anand) have even less to do.

Despite the repetitive nature of the story in Fukrey Returns, there is a comforting sanguinity in the movie’s tone which reflects in the cast’s chemistry

To spice up the story in Fukrey Returns, Choochaa (Sharma) gets an additional ability to see the future. He calls it ‘Deja-Choo’, because déjà vu is too overrated. This ability throws the cast into more hot water with Bholi Punjaban (Richa Chadda) and a corrupt minister of the government. Given Fukrey’s young target audience, some “rally the youth” propaganda is added as a safety measure in case the ‘Deja-Choo’ shenanigans fell short — not that it benefits the story or characters in any way.

Fukrey Returns is a hodgepodge of events, each mostly ending with the ‘Fukrey’ boys in a form of calamity, followed by a story revelation, followed by some running around, followed by another calamity. The process repeats itself until the climax. Yet, despite the repetitive nature of the story, there is a comforting sanguinity in the movie’s tone which reflects in the cast’s chemistry.

The movie is Sharma’s solo game all the way, despite writer-director Mrighdeep Singh Lamba’s best intentions to keep the rest of the ensemble relevant. Richa Chadha, in particular, is charismatic. In comparison to the four male leads, one can identify with Bholi Punjaban’s grimmer predicament.

The movie is Sharma’s solo game all the way, despite writer-director Mrighdeep Singh Lamba’s best intentions to keep the rest of the ensemble relevant. Richa Chadha, in particular, is charismatic. In comparison to the four male leads, one can identify with Bholi Punjaban’s grimmer predicament. Bholi has always been an interesting character. A cross between a dangerous hoodlum and a semi-leading lady, she’s not entirely a villainess, yet finds happiness in inflicting pain. The way Chadha plays her, we see her as a protagonist rather than an antagonist. Bholi’s strangest connection is a love line with Choochaa, which is confounding, given the quirky, idiotic nature of his character. However, life is full of strange things and Fukrey, the franchise, is banking on that idea.

A healthy dose of disbelief is required to fully appreciate the little things (and yes, there are quite a few small things to look out for). The overall experience, however, is a little too lighthearted. Despite life-threatening circumstances, we have a gut feeling that the leads will get away with nary a scratch, which dulls the level of threat and urgency. Knowing that everything will sort itself out eventually takes a chunk of interest away from an otherwise passable entertainer.

Published in Dawn, ICON, December 17th, 2017