|
Release
date:
|
November 17, 2017
|
|
Director:
|
Suresh Triveni
|
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Vidya Balan,
Manav Kaul, Neha Dhupia, Malishka Mendonsa, Abhishek Sharrma, Vijay Maurya,
Cameo: Ayushmann Khurrana
Hindi
|
A middle-aged
housewife named Sulochana Dubey lives happily ever after with her husband Ashok
and son Pranav in a middle-class locality in Mumbai. She failed in Class 12 and
ever since, like a butterfly flitting from bloom to bloom, she has flitted from
interest to interest, forever coming up with ideas for hobbies and a career for
herself. The only constant in her line of vision is her happy home. She is as
fixated on her family as she is on ensuring that the lemon does not fall out of
the spoon in the lemon-and-spoon race in a local housing society, and though
she comes second in that race, she has aced her equation with Ashok and Pranav
so far.
Then one day on a
whim, Sulochana decides to become a radio jockey, and circumstances provide her
with an opportunity. RJ Sulu with her “sari-waali
aunty” persona – as the station head puts it – and seductive voice becomes popular with her late-night talk show. And of course life
changes from then on.
Tumhari Sulu busts the myth prevailing for about three decades
in Bollywood, that all comedies must inevitably be mindless (and male-centric).
The first half of director Suresh Triveni’s film is an absolute laughathon, yet
it is at no point stupid. Sulu herself is often silly, but her story is not.
And – you will not believe this Team Golmaal
– not a single character speaks in rhyme.
In fact, there is
such realness to Sulu’s extended family, including her over-bearing though well-meaning
twin sisters, that they bring back memories of the homes occupied by the likes
of Amol Palekar, Vidya Sinha, Bindiya Goswami, Tina Munim, Zarina Wahab, Pearl
Padamsee and Utpal Dutt, back in the 1970s when the aam aadmi (common man) was a pre-occupation in a section of
Bollywood. The spotlight in Tumhari Sulu
is back on the common people, except this time it falls on an aam aurat (woman), a person this
industry usually neglects.
After a four-year
drought following Kahaani (2012), Vidya
Balan finally gets a film that, though not flawless, gives her a character who remains
substantial from start to finish. Tumhari
Sulu also takes her into territory that she has not so far explored: the
all-out comedy. It allows her to be funny while giving us food for thought, and
Balan pulls off the role of Sulu with the skill of a tightrope walker. She and
the film as a whole are so funny, that I choked in the first half and had to
take a Vicks ki goli to soothe my
throat. How come it has taken Bollywood so long to discover the comedian in this
fine artiste?
Sulu could have easily
been performed with condescension – after all being daft is second nature to
her. But Triveni’s writing never lets us forget that behind the inane schemes
and narrow worldview is a living, breathing human being with relatable emotions
and, surprisingly, a head on her shoulders that usually goes unnoticed because
of her in-your-face frivolity.
Balan matches the
writing by giving us enough space to ridicule Sulu, but ensuring at all times
that she is a person and not a parody. I laughed at the woman, but the truth is
that I also occasionally felt guilty about my laughter.
The sensitivity in
the characterisation of Sulu is paralleled by the writing of her response to
the men who call in
to her radio show: she makes no blanket assumptions
about them, she cleverly and smoothly snubs the ones who try to take her for a
ride, but is humane with those who do not.
Triveni also does
not trivialise or stereotype those around Sulu: the young airhostesses living
across the corridor do not visit her, not because they think they are too good
for her, but because they are genuinely always exhausted; Radio Wow’s Maria
Madam (Neha Dhupia) and RJ Albeli Anjali (Malishka Mendonsa) are justified in
being amused by her, but they are never mean; and her siblings are
conventional, but it is also clear that they love her to bits. That said,
Maria’s patience towards Anjali when she screws up really badly one night
defies believability. This is a weak point in the screenplay, and in that
sense, the scenario at Ashok’s office is far more credible.
Comedies sometimes
ruin themselves when they enter emotional terrain, but Tumhari Sulu stays the course. Even when Sulu, Ashok and Pranav draw
tears from us in the
second half, the film does not become so weepy as
to get sidetracked.
The nicest thing
about Triveni’s work here is that while he keeps his gaze firmly and
unapologetically on Sulu, he does not marginalise Ashok or Pranav. The husband
and son are well-fleshed out, well-acted parts. Manav Kaul is excellent as
Ashok, delivering a performance that is touching and comical by turns. Thankfully,
he shares great chemistry with Balan who has struggled for a while now to find
a co-star with charisma to match her own. Kaul is a charmer, so is his
character.
Abhishek Sharrma as
young Pranav has screen presence and talent enough to ensure that he is not overshadowed
by his seniors. He even pulls off a scene in which he has to read a slightly
awkwardly written letter, a scene that is another passing weak patch in the
screenplay.
The only
inexplicable casting decision in Tumhari
Sulu involves Malishka Mendonsa who plays RJ Albeli Anjali. Mendonsa is a popular
radio jockey in Mumbai. Why rope in a well-known personality if you plan to
reduce her to an extra, especially considering that her character starts off
with promise?
Tumhari Sulu has a light touch, but it is not a non-serious
film. The comedic tone, in fact, allows it to make several important
observations about how a household gets disrupted when a woman who has been –
conveniently for the rest of the family –
home-bound all these years, decides to have a career. As Ashok learns, it is
much easier to be an understanding husband when you know you can take your wife
for granted than when she comes into her own and establishes an identity independent
of her relationship with you.
Having said that, Tumhari Sulu almost ruins the points it
makes – it certainly vastly dilutes them – in a bid to serve up a needless plot
twist in the end. The effort to surprise the audience in an extended
pre-climactic scene at the radio station is both laboured and transparent. It
was an irritating passage, and as I left the hall, at first I wondered if
Triveni was trying to soften up his position on Sulu in that scene to cater to
misogynists in the audience. But no, his goal appears to have been merely to draw
gasps of astonishment and relief. Why, Mr Triveni, why? It is a measure of the
effectiveness of everything that went before this, that Tumhari Sulu remains worthwhile.
In any case, it is hard
to stay angry for long with a film in which a plump, sexy heroine and her horny
husband jump around on their bed in their tiny bedroom in their congested
lower-middle-class house as he sings, “Bann meri mehbooba /
Main tenu Taj pava doonga…/ Shahjahaan main tera / Tenu Mumtaz bana doonga / Bann
ja tu meri rani / Tenu mahal dava doonga.” And which has this to say about its pretty heroine
played by Vidya Balan in the song Farrata:
“Chhoti si packing mein aayi
/ Guddi yeh dhamaka hai.” That’s the
other thing about Tumhari Sulu: the
songs and the way they are woven into the narrative are hilarious. (Bann ja rani
is written and composed by Guru Randhawa, who has also sung it, and Rajat
Nagpal is a co-composer. Farrata’s music is by Amartya Rahut and lyrics by Siddhanth
Kaushal.)
This is a story
about finding the extraordinary within the seemingly
ordinary. Every human being is good at at least
something, and if you are among those lucky few who find out what your special
gift is, hold on to it for dear life. Until then, you can laugh your heart out
at Sulu’s shenanigans and feel a tug at the heart as you watch her with her
Ashok and Pranav.
Vidya Balan and
Manav Kaul are wonderful in Tumhari Sulu.
And despite its exasperating folly as it draws to a close, Tumhari Sulu is a throat-achingly, side-splittingly hysterical entertainer.
Rating
(out of five stars): ***
|
CBFC Rating (India):
|
U
|
|
Running time:
|
140 minutes
|
This review was also published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tumhari_Sulu
No comments:
Post a Comment