Characters impress in this mixed-up Punjabi romance
Rumi is defined by her rage. She can’t sell a hockey stick without flaring up at a customer for not knowing the right brand. Even the name Rumi on her feels like a nickname for something snappy and prosaic, since this girl — accurately described as “atom bomb” by another character — can’t possibly have anything to do with the tranquil 13th-century Persian poet and mystic so frequently quoted on Instagram these days.
Anurag Kashyap’s new Punjabi film Manmarziyaan is a quirky one with intriguing characters, but, as a love story, it squanders its momentum so frustratingly that Rumi — had she been watching the film herself — would have screamed.
Set in Amritsar, it has robust local flavour.
There is an interesting romantic entanglement somewhere, but (unlike Rumi) Kashyap has visibly been reined in, and what could have been a progressive mature romance keeps trying to resemble a standard rom-com. The result is a slow slog. The man in Rumi’s life is barely one. Vicky is a bluedyed fool hilariously said to look like a “shuturmurg.” This lovely Hindi word for ostrich invariably makes me think of the word ‘shuttlecock,’ which he resembles more closely. Vicky Kaushal plays him with constant movement, as if an invisible DJ is operating an invisible turntable at dog-whistle frequency only for him.
In the other corner is Robbie, a diffident banker who wears his turban to placate his family — then forgets he’s wearing one when putting his earpods in. Abhishek Bachchan is immensely likable in this passive role of a calm cuckold, content to wait rather than act.
Taapsee Pannu makes Rumi real: dreaming of lying under the stars, soaked in sweat. Perpetually wound up, she’s rescued by occasional shots of dopamine — from a rooftop rendezvous or a mobile phone notification — that light her up with glee. This actress doesn’t seem to know a false note, but the same can’t be said of the film.
Kashyap is a visionary, and starts Manmarziyaan with a unique time-lapse of Amritsar’s famed Golden Temple where we see — besides temple and devotees — a big black screen where words are rushing by, prayers pointed to the devout like an almighty karaoke screen. It goes downhill from there, though.
The film is predictable, self-indulgent and irritating in its attempts to be both a light crowd-pleaser with a cutesy ending and an impassioned, volatile romance. Unable to find the balance, Manmarziyaan gives us a drama that doesn’t add up and feels like a drag. It’s all a bit of a Manmarzi-yawn.