Movie Review: Vikas Bahl delivers a shaandaar bore

Despite sincere performances and groovy music, Vikas Bahl's Shaandaar loses out to a weak script

After reading a lot of tabloid articles related to Shahid Kapoor’s wedding a few months ago, I expected his latest film, Shaandaar, to be an antidote to the overdose. The other reason was, of course, that Vikas Bahl, director of the blockbuster Queen, also directed this film. While Shahid is quite bearable on-screen, Bahl is a massive disappointment to fans expecting a repeat performance. With an impressive star cast in Shahid, Pankaj Kapur and Alia Bhatt and introducing Shahid’s sister, Sanah Kapur, the trailers of Shaandaar seemed to promise a wedding drama with liberal doses of humour. The final product, though, is anything but.

The script, right from the start, is abrupt and compromises on depth in what looks like an attempt to be racy. The film introduces its characters through a poorly executed animated clip at the beginning, which only makes it harder for one to connect with the story. The 150 minutes that follow don’t do much for me, either. The storyline is formulaic and lacks imagination — even if I tried to, it would be hard to give spoilers over and above those already in the film’s trailers. Isha Arora (Sanah) is to be married into a Sindhi family and the wedding, if it wasn’t as clear as the day, is a business deal, as the unimaginative dialogues repeatedly tell me. Alia Arora (Bhatt) is an orphan who Vipin Arora (Pankaj) adopted, much to the family’s shock and displeasure. 

Enter Jagjinder Joginder (Shahid) as the wedding planner, the uppity young man from Punjab who can stand down Vipin’s inflated ego. Joginder’s first interaction with the family sets the tone for the rest of the film, abundant with hamming “oye” and verbal sparring. What also remains constant is the random animation every time he sees Bhatt, complete with ladybirds flying out of her sweater and into his palm.

There is a half-hearted attempt at humour, none of which is remotely funny, not even in a morbid, dark way, despite trying extremely hard to be offensive to all cultural, ethnic and gender communities. Sanjay Kapoor, the forgotten brother of actor Anil Kapoor, plays “the” Harry Fundwani, whose brother, Robin Fundwani, is to marry Isha. His broken English is supposed to be a legitimate accompaniment to his obsession with gold and money, as is the case with all Sindhis, if the makers of this film are to be believed. There is of course Dharma Productions’ favourite character — a gay man whose sexual orientation and effeminate ways are meant to be the source of all humour. Of course, the gay man is also a designer, wears floral ties and walks with his hands askew. While Karan Johar’s cameo is meant to add a self-deprecating, “roast”-like quality, all it does is make me wonder how a man with his alleged sexual orientation could be so myopic in his view of gender rights.

In isolation, there are a couple of factors that the film has working for it. Amit Trivedi’s music is groovy, catchy and fresh. Bhatt’s acting is sincere and natural, adding an adequate amount of spunk to a dull plot. Shahid acts well, though he does fall into a repetitive loop in the way he delivers dialogues. Sanah, much like Bhatt, is a sincere actor with great screen presence. The trio of Bhatt, Sanah and Shahid offers a much needed relief from the staccato script and a glimpse into the world of those who are outcasts in their own families. Though it is starkly similar to the Naseeruddin Shah and Shabana Azmi-starrer Masoom, the neglected child sub-plot is perhaps the only one that elicits any empathy.

Shaandaar tries to pull a Dum Laga Ke Haisha in dealing with the subject of a plus-sized female character, but only engages with it at a superficial level. The final scenes, where the “fat” Sanah sheds all inhibitions and delivers a speech are unbelievably weak, with the onus lying squarely on the shoulders of the script and dialogue writers. It seems the film makers want their audience to be roused to tears — especially when the camera keeps cutting to a young woman’s brimming eyes — the reality is far from it.