This film is a classic example of a ‘family entertainment,’ meant to be enjoyed by the whole desi family, including the boodhe, bachche, and jawan, rather than in separate seats. Despite this, the subject matter is entirely appropriate for an adult audience. Dissolved marriages; adultery; old-age infatuation; the loss of a youthful love.
In some ways, it may be like a sex comedy treatment. Although there are many references to “tharak” (horniness), the film never devolves into a parody of Dil Ka Doctor-style sex comedy. The director (Raj Mehta) and the camera’s gaze are likely to blame for this.
A father and son, both seeking divorce from their spouses at the same time, also feature in the film. At a crucial point in the film, the father brings his kid to the movies to disclose something really important. The room is silent.
Kalank, a box office dud, is now showing in the theaters. In the meanwhile, I pondered how this parent could feel about his son’s doppelganger portraying the hero in the movie he’s brought him to see!
Anil Kapoor portrays the father in the film. Yes, his son Varun Dhawan plays the major role in the film Kalank. Of course, this is a self-referential/meta point in the film. It’s possible that this is Dharma’s first theater premiere since the epidemic with JugjuggJeeyo, another Dharma production like Kalank. A war movie (Shershah), and one starring Deepika Padukone (Gehraiyaan), were both aired straight on OTT before this.
This is intended to be a lovely, paisa-vasool-style mass entertainer in that spirit. Of course, as regular watchers, we don’t know whether it’s inclusive or entertaining enough to attract in audiences around the country.
A nightclub bouncer named Kuku (Dhawan) is played by the actor in a very “Govinda” manner. He only ever breaks into extended dialogue-baazi when he’s in a trial or a wedding feast, when he can get people drunk (or not).
Kiara Advani is his wife in a loveless marriage, but the pair must pretend everything is OK for the relatives they’re visiting back home during a big, large, desi wedding.
It begins in the Punjabi city of Patiala, then moves on to ‘Kanayda’, before returning to Patiala. When it comes to Bollywood, the greatest subcategory is unquestionably Punjabi regional, which has recently been joined by small-town UP movies.
When comparing the two types of drunken entertainment, Punjabi fare is clearly the more viscerally entertaining — fellows yelling “hadippa” as a background score, the soundtrack including every Punjabi genre from hip-hop to dance to even bhajan, to the semi-classical “tappa” — between jokes and after jokes.
What’s not to like about a picture that goes back to the roots, or “Bollywood,” as it were. What exactly do I mean by that? Of course, the music takes center stage.
It’s been a long since we just drummed our feet the whole time in the theater. I’m baffled as to why Bollywood soundtracks aren’t advertised as strongly as they once were, so that you don’t have to stumble onto music while you watch a film. As far as I’m aware, Pakistani singer-songwriter Abrar UlHaq is the original composer of the mediocre dance number ‘NaachPunjaban.’
In case you miss it, let me draw your attention to the film’s opening 20-minute song “Tum jo gaye,” which is excellent and slow and somber. The following is the whole story: One of Bombay’s top indie guitarists, Pozy, wrote the song’s lyrics and created the music. It’s also why I’ve been singing it for about a year now. I’m relieved that it’s finally been published.
It’s the interaction between the four main characters that makes the movie work, even if everyone in the film is playing it up for the laughs.
Dramatic focal point is Neetu Kapoor’s warm and kind presence. It’s a tragedy that we’re just seeing her in a picture now, about a decade after we last saw her on screen, when she was at the height of her powers in the early 1980s.
There are no prizes for guessing who dominates this event, but Anil Kapoor, 65, is unquestionably India’s youngest sexagenarian. If the 60s, in his case, are actually the new 40s, it’s no wonder that a character portrayed by him in a film has a mid-life crisis. That’s presumably why he accepted the role of a “Bollywood dad”!
A superb plot-driven writing (Rishabh Sharma) makes it impossible to fully understand the character motives, in terms of why they do or do what they do—is Anil’s the difficult to grasp.
To be honest, I don’t think this dad would have made any sense at all if the sex-com alone hadn’t been activated. Maybe. At times, does the movie appear to explain itself a little too much? Surely.
The question is, can you predict the surprises ahead of time? I was unable to. If so, does the hilarity last the whole movie? Sure thing. Couldn’t get enough of this lighthearted, cheesy fluff in the dark. These kinds of experiences, guy, have been long overdue.