A juxtaposition of old-world simplicity and modern-day savagery.
The poster of Humpty Sharma Ki Dulhania is a “selfie”, aptly depicting the pretentious times we live in. On face value it is a lightweight tribute to the feted blockbuster Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, but at a deeper level it is an ode with a sociological twist and an introspection of our modern times. It is as much a reflection of Aditya Chopra’s opus as it is of new age auteurs like Anurag Kashyap. It is juxtaposition of the old-world simplicity and modern-day savagery. We live in tough times. We live in brutally competitive times. We live in a society that champions libertarian socialism, yet is consumerist to the core. Kavya won’t settle for anything less than a 500,000-rupee highbrow wedding dress. She, nonetheless, has the oomph, enterprise and chutzpah to raise the required money. Modern society is full of contradictions and paradoxes. Perfection is new-age imperfection. Lowbrow is new-age highbrow. Kavya rejects Angad, who is better than Humpty in every way. He is a doctor; he is financially successful; he has more brawn and brains than Humpty; he has good social and clubbing skills. But despite that, it is Humpty who charms Kavya with his glaring flaws.
Like any self-conscious modern film, it pays obeisance to Facebook. But it saves us from the seeing Humpty imploring her with stupid and creepy platitudes like “I want to do friendship with you”. Instead he sends her a friend request at Facebook, which unkbeknownst to his mental powers is a subtle approach to take things forward. Their transition from friends to lovers is seamless without any melodrama or jingoistic rhetoric.
The film’s most hilarious scene — the teary-eyed Humpty while watching his favourite movie — is rendered subservient in the opening credits. It’s a big waste. Shashank Khaitan (the director) does well in fashioning unsophisticated characters. But like many Indian directors, he makes the mistake of confusing unsophisticated characters with unsophisticated filmmaking. A story like this needed a more polished approach.
Both films centre around patriarchy. In Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Amrish Puri was a non-violent patriarch. He didn’t rely on rage or rants to exert his authority. His commanding presence was enough. However, subtlety doesn’t sell in today’s snobbish times; hence, the modern patriarch has to have violent tendencies to be accepted by the impressionable modern society. The patriarch here, Ashutosh Rana, from his humble beginnings as a mechanic, is now a rich and powerful transport honcho. He could even be a disciple of a libertarian-socialist Godman, whose feet he washes with mineral water and then drinks the same. He believes in solving his problems without any authority’s intervention. He is his own authority. He is the stentorian voice of a once-common man he was. He sends Humpty and friends packing in a truck, battered savagely by his sycophants. The father-daughter relationship is relaxed. She’s daddy’s princess, pampered and over-protected by the typical modern-day big poppa daddy. But he can impose his preferences on her when it comes to her marriage, for he believes that his choice would be better for her in the long run. The patriarch knows that he is not a perfect husband to his wife, but he aspires to be a perfect daddy.
Humpty is a run-of-the-mill exponent of yuppie breed, who any average six-pack Joe can relate to. Like modern-day heroes he guts it out in the gym and flaunts six-pack abs with pride. Many social commentators look askance at the shaved torsos and muscular physiques of modern heroes. In the past, heroes didn’t need gymnasiums to exhibit machismo: hirsuteness was an emblem of masculinity. But things have changed. So have the ethos of machismo. The parameters of modern masculinity are tougher, as drudging machinery in the gym calls for hard work and dedication. Humpty strips himself of dignity to seek the patriarch’s approval, ready to undergo an excoriating examination under his daunting supervision. At the patriarch’s behest he could submit himself to humiliating stress positions, holding his ears by looping arms behind his knees. The patriarch doesn’t literally put him through the aforementioned murga punishment, but one can feel that Humpty has lost his soul. It is apparent that even if Humpty succeeds in marrying Kavya, he will never get respect from her family. In Kavya’s family there will always be gossips of their epic mismatch and how Humpty’s insistent implorations, like a singing beggar, led to the patriarch’s reluctant approval.
When Kavya decides to elope with him, Humpty’s paternal instinct kicks in and he persuades her to stay under the patriarch’s aegis. In spirit, he is a younger version of the patriarch. He is a conformist like him. His methods are different but his ideologies are the same as his. Like the patriarch, he is a savage at heart. When his desperate attempts of critiquing Angad fail, he almost gives up, but Kavya’s wit saves him. She artfully incites Angad to pick a fight with a lecherous hooligan at the dhaba. But instead of getting in a mad-cap brawl, Angad calmly calls the police; whereas, the frantic Humpty, throws himself on the hooligans. Although the patriarch reprimands him for his imprudence, he cannot help but see his younger self in the savage Humpty. But he snaps out of it: Humpty is too big a risk for him. He cannot let his daughter marry a lad from unfamiliar background with rickety finances, compared to Angad who scores heavily in familiarity, finances and personality. Angad is not a bad boy like the patriarch’s reflection, Humpty, but the patriarch would rather prefer a good boy than a like-minded bad boy for his daughter. It is ironic that he himself was a mechanic at the time of his marriage; but like every big poppa daddy, he seeks a better life for his daughter than he did for his wife.
The climax has an oneiric feel — a salute to Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver. At the eve of Kavya’s wedding, Humpty is guzzling a bottle of alcohol in despair. And he does something that is considered uncharacteristic of the modern breed: he bawls. Thereupon, the patriarch emerges to bless his approval for Humpty. But he is too brutal a pragmatist to have a such a romantic change of heart. It is a very dream-like scene. Then Kavya’s standing on the patriarch’s decorated truck, calling Humpty, is another surreal moment. Angad’s abrupt dismissal seems more of Humty’s reverie, which had no room for Angad. Humpty always yearned for a Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge-like idealistic finale to his love story. Alas, he should know that idealism does not exist in the modern civilisation. It’s a Kashyapian world.
The poster of Humpty Sharma Ki Dulhania is a “selfie”, aptly depicting the pretentious times we live in. On face value it is a lightweight tribute to the feted blockbuster Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, but at a deeper level it is an ode with a sociological twist and an introspection of our modern times. It is as much a reflection of Aditya Chopra’s opus as it is of new age auteurs like Anurag Kashyap. It is juxtaposition of the old-world simplicity and modern-day savagery. We live in tough times. We live in brutally competitive times. We live in a society that champions libertarian socialism, yet is consumerist to the core. Kavya won’t settle for anything less than a 500,000-rupee highbrow wedding dress. She, nonetheless, has the oomph, enterprise and chutzpah to raise the required money. Modern society is full of contradictions and paradoxes. Perfection is new-age imperfection. Lowbrow is new-age highbrow. Kavya rejects Angad, who is better than Humpty in every way. He is a doctor; he is financially successful; he has more brawn and brains than Humpty; he has good social and clubbing skills. But despite that, it is Humpty who charms Kavya with his glaring flaws.
Like any self-conscious modern film, it pays obeisance to Facebook. But it saves us from the seeing Humpty imploring her with stupid and creepy platitudes like “I want to do friendship with you”. Instead he sends her a friend request at Facebook, which unkbeknownst to his mental powers is a subtle approach to take things forward. Their transition from friends to lovers is seamless without any melodrama or jingoistic rhetoric.
The film’s most hilarious scene — the teary-eyed Humpty while watching his favourite movie — is rendered subservient in the opening credits. It’s a big waste. Shashank Khaitan (the director) does well in fashioning unsophisticated characters. But like many Indian directors, he makes the mistake of confusing unsophisticated characters with unsophisticated filmmaking. A story like this needed a more polished approach.
Both films centre around patriarchy. In Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Amrish Puri was a non-violent patriarch. He didn’t rely on rage or rants to exert his authority. His commanding presence was enough. However, subtlety doesn’t sell in today’s snobbish times; hence, the modern patriarch has to have violent tendencies to be accepted by the impressionable modern society. The patriarch here, Ashutosh Rana, from his humble beginnings as a mechanic, is now a rich and powerful transport honcho. He could even be a disciple of a libertarian-socialist Godman, whose feet he washes with mineral water and then drinks the same. He believes in solving his problems without any authority’s intervention. He is his own authority. He is the stentorian voice of a once-common man he was. He sends Humpty and friends packing in a truck, battered savagely by his sycophants. The father-daughter relationship is relaxed. She’s daddy’s princess, pampered and over-protected by the typical modern-day big poppa daddy. But he can impose his preferences on her when it comes to her marriage, for he believes that his choice would be better for her in the long run. The patriarch knows that he is not a perfect husband to his wife, but he aspires to be a perfect daddy.
Humpty is a run-of-the-mill exponent of yuppie breed, who any average six-pack Joe can relate to. Like modern-day heroes he guts it out in the gym and flaunts six-pack abs with pride. Many social commentators look askance at the shaved torsos and muscular physiques of modern heroes. In the past, heroes didn’t need gymnasiums to exhibit machismo: hirsuteness was an emblem of masculinity. But things have changed. So have the ethos of machismo. The parameters of modern masculinity are tougher, as drudging machinery in the gym calls for hard work and dedication. Humpty strips himself of dignity to seek the patriarch’s approval, ready to undergo an excoriating examination under his daunting supervision. At the patriarch’s behest he could submit himself to humiliating stress positions, holding his ears by looping arms behind his knees. The patriarch doesn’t literally put him through the aforementioned murga punishment, but one can feel that Humpty has lost his soul. It is apparent that even if Humpty succeeds in marrying Kavya, he will never get respect from her family. In Kavya’s family there will always be gossips of their epic mismatch and how Humpty’s insistent implorations, like a singing beggar, led to the patriarch’s reluctant approval.
When Kavya decides to elope with him, Humpty’s paternal instinct kicks in and he persuades her to stay under the patriarch’s aegis. In spirit, he is a younger version of the patriarch. He is a conformist like him. His methods are different but his ideologies are the same as his. Like the patriarch, he is a savage at heart. When his desperate attempts of critiquing Angad fail, he almost gives up, but Kavya’s wit saves him. She artfully incites Angad to pick a fight with a lecherous hooligan at the dhaba. But instead of getting in a mad-cap brawl, Angad calmly calls the police; whereas, the frantic Humpty, throws himself on the hooligans. Although the patriarch reprimands him for his imprudence, he cannot help but see his younger self in the savage Humpty. But he snaps out of it: Humpty is too big a risk for him. He cannot let his daughter marry a lad from unfamiliar background with rickety finances, compared to Angad who scores heavily in familiarity, finances and personality. Angad is not a bad boy like the patriarch’s reflection, Humpty, but the patriarch would rather prefer a good boy than a like-minded bad boy for his daughter. It is ironic that he himself was a mechanic at the time of his marriage; but like every big poppa daddy, he seeks a better life for his daughter than he did for his wife.
The climax has an oneiric feel — a salute to Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver. At the eve of Kavya’s wedding, Humpty is guzzling a bottle of alcohol in despair. And he does something that is considered uncharacteristic of the modern breed: he bawls. Thereupon, the patriarch emerges to bless his approval for Humpty. But he is too brutal a pragmatist to have a such a romantic change of heart. It is a very dream-like scene. Then Kavya’s standing on the patriarch’s decorated truck, calling Humpty, is another surreal moment. Angad’s abrupt dismissal seems more of Humty’s reverie, which had no room for Angad. Humpty always yearned for a Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge-like idealistic finale to his love story. Alas, he should know that idealism does not exist in the modern civilisation. It’s a Kashyapian world.
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