
Shashanka Ghosh got it right in Veere Di Wedding when he was able to shock the living daylights out of a conservative Indian audience by showing a woman masturbating on screen, yet not making that her defining characteristic nor allowing that episode to overshadow her internal journey. This is not to say that women - those who are tough and those who are not - are never any of the above, but that writers and directors who equate these specific habits and qualities with forward thinking, modernity and courage in the female half of the population would be well advised to examine their (possibly subconscious) conservatism that causes them to struggle to portray a woman's inner strength. The humour is all that thrives till the end.Īmong other things, I am trying to remember the last time Bollywood has pointedly projected a female character as tough and independent-minded, without writing her as a smoker, a consumer of alcohol, sexually wild occasionally to the point of being promiscuous and/or socially brusque to the point of being mean, and without choosing to underline these aspects of her as signifiers of her strength and rebellion. I enjoyed the energy of the first 30 minutes or so of the film, the heat between Rumi and Vicky, the quick succession of songs, actor Vicky Kaushal's unrestrained dancing and Dhillon's hilarious, earthy dialogues made all the better by the excellent comic timing of the cast. The Rumi-Vicky-Robbie triangle loses steam before that though, when Vicky's characterisation is neglected by the writing and Rumi's is bathed in cliches. It is tough to buy into Robbie's decency, more so his love for Rumi which seems to have taken birth at the sight of her photograph and survives her complete lack of consideration towards him and his family. Manmarziyaan's bid to be more open-minded than the rest translates into some rather odd interpretations of liberalism, among them the portrayal of Robbie as a modern-day Maryada Purushottam Ram (quite literally - Rumi even asks him, "were you like this from your childhood, a Ramji type?"), not just glossing over Lord Ram's decision to ditch his wife at the first whiff of gossip about her, but also somehow interpreting male goodness as a willingness to forgive a woman for repeatedly being an absolute jerk with you. Shakun Batra's Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu was among the honourable exceptions that had the courage to be truly different. At first it was interesting to see contemporary films examining the reluctance of India's urban youth to "settle down" in the conventional sense, until it became clear that when push came to shove, each of these filmmakers was on the side of convention. Bachna Ae Haseeno, Love Aaj Kal, Break Ke Baad, Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani - the list is long. The commitment phobia (in some cases marriage phobia) of the young has been a recurrent theme in Hindi cinema of the past decade. Vicky, however, refuses to exit the picture. Enter: London-based banker Robbie ( Abhishek Bachchan). Furious at him, she agrees to an arranged marriage. Vicky loves Rumi but is not ready for that step.

Their sexual escapades are barely hidden from the elders in her family and since poore Amritsar ko pata hai about them, she is under pressure to marry him. She is a hockey player who helps in the family's small business in Amritsar, he is a deejay.

new film - with a story, screenplay and dialogues by Kanika Dhillon - is about the tempestuous relationship between Rumi (Taapsee Pannu) and Vicky (Vicky Kaushal). Abhishek Bachchan, Vicky Kaushal and Taapsee Pannu in stills from Manmarziyaan.
