In Anurag Kashyap’s Manmarziyaan, love stays clear of the warm, cuddly, butterflies-in-stomach emotions of puppy love. In place of the cutesy stuff, the film’s lead pair, Rumi and Vicky (Taapsee Pannu and Vicky Kaushal), are caught up in a fierce whirlwind of carnivorous lust.
Vicky, a loser with a bad haircut, a string of unfinished college degrees and no life plan, jumps over rooftops to be with Rumi. Their attraction drives them directly into a dingy room where they are caught red-handed by Rumi’s mother.
From the commotion, it’s obvious this was not the first time Vicky was caught in a state of partial undress, nor the first time Rumi was reprimanded.
Despite furrowed brows and grunts, the parents in the film appear calm, easily giving in to the youngsters’ whims. Their nonchalance make them equivalent to cardboard cutouts; people who are just there in frames to attest that Rumi and Vicky live in a small but jam-packed community in Amritsar.
The film, and the story, doesn’t need parents much anyways.
For the first hour, Manmarziyaan fixates on their lust story as screenwriter Kanika Dhillon (co-writer of Ra.One) and Kashyap tell us, again and again, just how immature and blind to reason Rumi and Vicky are.
Rumi, who like most girls her age wants to get married, is willing to stay as Vicky’s girlfriend just as long as he brings his parents to meet hers. Vicky, being the noncommittal slacker, diverts her attention by uttering romantic gobbledygook that fires up her sexual instincts.
Theirs is a strange, frustrating relationship — one that Kashyap happily and masterfully exploits until the plot slickly introduces Robbie Bhatia (Abhishek Bachchan) in the mix.
Robbie is an England-settled banker whose family briefly relocates to Amritsar to find him a mate. Even with better candidates on his marriage broker’s list, Robbie is somehow smitten by Rumi. The plot doesn’t hide the fact that he will marry Rumi in spite of the anguish he will eventually suffer.
Kashyap and Dhillon tactfully craft a refined drama into an unsympathetic, unappealing, unoriginal premise that deserves it’s ‘A’ certification, but not the CBFC’s ban — which means only the non-cantonment cinemas in Sindh are running the film. Without giving away spoilers, the film slips into a very uncomfortable territory that would, rightly, raise eyebrows; but then again, far worse things — visual and implied — have been cleared by the censors.
Manmarziyaan is Bachchan’s return to films after a brief hiatus away from bad scripts. Although one can surmise that he will play a martyr of romance — i.e. the keen and kindhearted husband archetype — the role doesn’t give him much wriggle room to build his character out of the norm. In the few scenes where Bachchan does perform, Kashyap inexplicably cuts away to Pannu’s expression.
Pannu, of course, has become a fine actress who consistently signs demanding roles, and Kaushal is perfect as the infantile-minded grown-up who wants a relationship without the marriage label.
The real stars of the film though are Kashyap and Dhillon. The latter’s rock solid screenplay (even at times when scenes drag) is matched by the former’s quirky astuteness as a director. There are enough bits and pieces on the screen to warrant a second viewing — but purely for analytical reasons, not fun.
Manmarziyaan treads very uncomfortable territory that will easily raise a few eyebrows. Batti Gul Meter Chalu never gets its tone right
Batti Gul Meter Chalu