Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani I have to confess I am conflicted: do I turn my back on this brand new film from Karan Johar because it’s loud and melodramatic in the way mainstream Hindi family dramas used to be and still determinedly are, refusing to budge from broad-brush-stroke-y conventions, 2023 be damned; or do I cherry pick some of the better, braver parts of the film which go big because of the film platforms them so large, and be happy about that in an at-least-it-has-these-bits-too way.
Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani Randhawa Ranveer Singh from Karol Bagh is the kind of over-the-top Punjabi lunk that Ranveer Singh can do, and has done, in his sleep. Singh’s endearing energy is never to be denied, but we’ve seen this template oh so many times before. The scion of a millionaire mithai-wala, Rocky is accessorized with straining ‘dole sholey’, a personal trainer cum BFF, protein shakes, facial hair, and a fleet of fancy SUVs which match his outfit of the day. His English is ‘tooti-phooti’, but he is good-at-heart.
Rocky lives in a palace, which looks like a set, with his sweet Dadaji (Dharmendra) who lives in a world of his own, an ultra-stern Dadiji (Jaya Bachchan), Daddyji (Aamir Bashir), mummyji (Kshitee Jog) and choti behen (Anjali Anand). Where in madly crowded West Delhi could that sprawling house exist? Silly question. Rani’s family consists of an English-spouting mommy (Churni Ganguly), an unconventional father (Tota Roy Choudhury) who is a Kathak dancer-cum-teacher, and a ‘thakuma’ (Shabana Azmi) who has once loved and lost.
