Taapsee Pannu takes the focus away from the men in 'Manmarziyaan'

Is Manmarziyaan, Anurag Kashyap’s latest film that premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival on Tuesday, in a theatre that was surprisingly only about two-thirds full, an “updated” “love triangle” as we’ve been hearing for a long time? Not really. But does it need to be one to be enjoyable? Not really. Manmarziyaan is worth a watch because it’s mostly good fun, with some great performances. 

The story revolves around the possible romantic, sexual and matrimonial choices for Rumi, a sporty, spirited and assertive young woman in Amritsar. She wants to spend her life with Vicky, a local DJ and charming peacock. But he can’t commit to marriage; there are always other priorities, including gobhi parathas. Enter Robbie, an NRI suitor who is determined to marry Rumi. Why, why and why? Well, who can ever tell? Manmarziyaan doesn’t even try. 

A triangle, by definition, needs three angles. If any of the angles collapse, it’s no longer one. Here we have Abhishek Bachchan playing Robbie, a banker who works in London, returning home to Amritsar to choose a Punjabi bride who might please his parents. He does the most justice to the formal opening placard in films, about all the characters being entirely fictional. Sure, Robbie is fictional, but could he ever be even somewhat plausible? 

We’re never quite sure why he is hellbent on choosing Rumi, after just one look at her photograph. It’s as much of a mystery as his polished Hindi in the midst of the hearty Punjabi Hindi spoken by every other character around him. Or the reason for his infinite patience with Rumi, which at times appears more silly than sensitive. Similar characters, of husbands waiting patiently for their wives to return their affection, have already been portrayed with more conviction in Mani Ratnam’s Mouna Raagam (1986) and Roja (1992) and even in Aditya Chopra’s Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi (2008), among others. This is meant to be Bachchan’s comeback after a long break. The script does not do him many favours, but there are some moments in this film that make you wonder if he’s still on that break. Or if he should be.

Vicky, aka DJ Sandzz, is the object of Rumi’s love and lust, played brilliantly and with unrestrained abandon by Vicky Kaushal. He’s happy to play second fiddle to the confident and smarter Rumi, but proves himself incompatible with responsibility, or indeed, intelligence. Inexplicably, Rumi is emotionally attached to him even after, as she points out, he didn’t show up when she once needed to have an abortion. Vicky’s character starts out as endearing, but slowly loses steam as it turns out there’s nothing more to him. But Kaushal owns the role, whether he is portraying manic energy, joie de vivre, cluelessness, bravado or heartbreak. 

With two of the three angles wobbling, it leaves only one point in the triangle. Luckily for Manmarziyaan, that point is a bright spot in the form of Rumi, who carries the film all by herself. Taapsee Pannu delivers oodles of spunk, angst and aggression in her role. But unlike Sholay’s Basanti, who’s still unmatched as a character — who chose to work, live and love on her own terms — Rumi does put up with a lot from Vicky, yet can’t let go of him, not even when Robbie offers an easy way out. Pannu’s performance is dazzling and dominates the film, and it’s ironic that the English title for Manmarziyaan at TIFF was “Husband Material”, focusing instead on the men in the film.

The colourful, bustling town of Amritsar is a joy to watch. Amit Trivedi’s music is sumptuous, and there’s lots of it, as Kashyap leaves nothing unsaid, or rather, unsung. 

The “updated” aspect of this romance seems mainly to lie in its switch from tenderness to “Tinder-ness”. But some of the strongest — and funniest — moments of Manmarziyaan are indeed to be found in its references to social media as well as Aadhaar, which promises to be a bottomless gold mine for joke writers for the foreseeable future. 

The last scene is one of the best moments of the film, as Robbie and Rumi share a walk and an easy conversation, mercifully free of overpowering music, angst or anger. It’s a very satisfying, though somewhat belated, end to an unlikely crowd-pleaser from Anurag Kashyap.