Simran has only a few moments of brilliance before it becomes dull

The script depends too much on Ranaut and things begin to get repetitive after a point

Hansal Mehta’s latest project, Simran is a rollercoaster, though not the kind you enjoy and rather the type that makes you regret strapping in. The film has its moments no doubt, but there aren’t enough to make it worthwhile. Kangana Ranaut manages to shine though, which is a saving grace of sorts. But as good as she is, and she does manage to carry the film on her shoulders alone, the inconsistencies in the script and its pace are beyond even the firebrand actor to salvage. 

The film is not completely devoid of positives, though. Ranaut’s casting as Praful Patel, the Gujarati protagonist, is spot on. The only criticism against Ranuat could be her inconsistent Gujarati accent, especially when she pulled off the Haryanvi accent quite convincingly in 2015’s Tanu Weds Manu Returns. Why the ethnicity of the character was changed from Punjabi to Gujarati for this film (the character is based on Sandeep Kaur, a Punjabi), is a question that keeps nagging as well, since it serves no purpose in the narrative other than the shoddy accent rendered by Ranaut.

Others like Hiten Kumar, who plays her grouchy and forever petulant father, and Sohum Shah, who plays the sincere marriage prospect, are cast well, too. 

For a film that is “inspired” by true events, the script takes a lot for granted and that is its undoing in most places. Simran is the story of an Indian divorcee living in the US with her parents. She is ambitious and does not feel the need to hide it. She takes charge of her life and knows exactly what she is doing and where it may land her, but she does it anyway. She gets drawn into gambling, gets involved with demonic loan sharks and ends up robbing banks. 

The script, however, depends too much on Ranaut and things begin to get repetitive after a point. There are sparks of brilliance, like the opening scene that shows Praful’s dedication to her job and her determination to own her own house. There’s another bit where Ranaut’s Simran chats with a bartender and makes friends with him while bargaining for free “chakna”, going from French fries to peanuts over light-hearted banter. 

But that’s about it. Praful’s descent into the gambling habit feels at once rushed and monotonous. Her decision to rob banks seems to hinge on the fact that she got lucky once.

More importantly, she drives the same car to all the heists, uses presumably her own lipstick to write notes with her DNA on it, and still manages to pull the same stunt again and again. It feels too convenient to be believable. 

Simran also seems to be confused about what it wants to be. Is it a comedy? Is it a satire? If it is, what is it satirising? Is it a romance? One will never know because the writer and director apparently could not be bothered to decide or make up their minds. If the start of the film is graceful and charming, the end is almost slapstick.

There are times when the audience may just want the film to get a move on, because it suddenly breaks into a song, or has Simran and Sameer pull a Titanic (the outstretched hands against the wind, and not the iceberg) in front of a lake. 

In its entirety, Simran is far from a must watch if you’re looking for a cohesive and consistent fare.

If you are a Ranaut fan, however, give it a go — though you may just find yourself hoping there would be a little less of her at times. The script depends on the actor too much, and there is only so much that the reigning Queen can do.