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.
Of the lakhs who are pushed into the flesh trade in India every year, less than 1% ever find their way out. Love Sonia is the story of one such girl, taken from a poverty-ridden village to Mumbai’s redlight district, then Hong Kong and Los Angeles.
As director Tabrez Noorani tells this all-too-familiar story, his intention is sincere and his style, unsubtle.
Preeti (Riya Sisodia) is sold to a local moneylender named Dada Thakur (Anupam Kher), by her impoverished father (Adil Hussain). Desperate to find her, Preeti’s sister Sonia (Mrunal Thakur, ) offers herself to the moneylender, and soon finds herself in a brothel in Mumbai.
The horrors are unrelenting as Bajpayee breaks her down; the film daring you, all the while, to look away. Sonia’s descent into narak, as she and the others call their world, is so brutal and horrific that no one moved in the interval. It’s a pity, then, that the filmmaker felt compelled to go for an almost-fairytale finish. Post-interval, Sonia’s journey to LA felt like a different movie altogether, and came across as a weak device for introducing cameos by Demi Moore and Mark Duplass. The unconvincing twist at the end was even more disappointing.
Love Sonia has several impressive cameos. Freida Pinto’s older prostitute who wants to bring Sonia down a notch, Rajkummar Rao’s compassionate social worker, Richa Chaddha’s sex worker with a heart of gold and Manoj Bajpayee’s pimp are all inspired turns. But the film still suffers, largely from lack of direction.
JYOTI SHARMA BAWA