Movie Review: Dilwale, Kabhi Smile, Kabhi Frown

Get this. Where there's a wheel, there's no way. Cars somersault like circus acrobats, crash, wham, slam, and go up in smoke. Choke, no jokes. So much for the action quotient. And when there's some shrubbery in the vicinity, there must be a su-su interlude. Lewd.

Groan and bear it? Yup, in keeping with his customary signature, director Rohit Shetty displays a compulsive disorder for chaos in Dilwale, compelling you to clutch your head in grief, weep into your caramel corn, and gape at the auditorium's ceiling, which isn't at all a salutary feeling.


But but...hang on, there's a rescue operation in sight. At the end of Shetty's tunnel vision, there's a light.

However jaded-'n'-faded a spectator may be, Bollywood's asli dilwales pull off a magic trick. Before you can mumble abracadabra, the manic malarkey diverts to miles of footage towards rekindling the ye olde Shah Rukh Khan-Kajol magic. Glad to report, suddenly you're smiling goofily in the dark. Surprise surprise, even this Shettynama becomes a lark.


Whenever the charismatic coosome twosome are on screen, the corn tastes c..c..crispy. Agreed, the thick-as-a-jungle bearded soul (Shah Rukh Khan) and his perennial subject of desire (Kajol) may no longer be spring chickens. Yet they relegate the younger pack to a godown of supportive nuts and bolts. In fact, the ever-jousting senior jodi abetted intermittently by a hysterical gang of loonybins actually transform this Rohit Shetty outing into a fairly fun-time fandango of a movie. Thank the lord, then, for tender mercies.

Undeniably, visually the overall outcome does look terribly tacky (excessive use of fairylights, falooda colour set decor) lapses into cliches galore, discloses an absence of continuity as locations shift helter-skelter between Goa, a Hyderabad studio, Iceland (yes!) and, baap re baap Bulgaria too for helicopter aerial shots aplenty. In addition, the plot premise seems to be 'inspired' by the cult laff-out-loud comedy, Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi. Note, the car workshop milieu is ditto.

Also if the middle-aged brother, Ashok Kumar, was reticent about a woman from his past, a similar love-lost braking gear is under repair here. And if faint shades are apparent from Amitabh Bachchan presiding over his Hum siblings, oho, all's fair in love and 'inspiration'. Drat that word.

Gratifyingly, when Shetty flashes back to Jungle Beard and Perennial Desire, you're as elated as discovering a forgotten Rs. 1,000 note in your winter jacket. Their first encounter on a Bulgarian boulevard, their first date (curfewed to five minutes) and the confectionery sweet courtship, ooze the perfume of nostalgia. Follows a twist in the scream-play. Bleep, to avoid a spoiler alert, suffice it to say that right away the clever sleight of the narrative makes your jaw drop.


Back then to the then and now. Our Beard has become a do-gooder, Desire runs a beachside cafe. Coincidence intended. His zoned-out brother (Varun Dhawan) and her kid sister (Kriti Sanon) meet, go greet-greet and fall in love as easily as slipping on a banana peel. Eeesh. Over then to serenades, seismic heart pangs, hurdles and much do-dah connected to drug rackets, gulabi pills in cellophane-wrapped packets and yackety-yacks.

Fortuitously, the post-intermission section sustains its minty flavour, courtesy Farhad-Sajid's screwball madcap dialogue delivered by Dilwale's official flunkeys (Mukesh Tiwari accompanied by a refugee from Gangs Of Wasseypur), with oodles of help from a zany Sanjay Mishra and the incorrigibly overwrought Johnny Lever. A scene showing a yarn being concocted in sync with vintage film flashes on television is hilarious, somewhat in a Manmohan Desai-sque vein.

Ha-ha salvos are fired against the escalating costs of an evening out at the multiplex, the ongoing obsession with brand names, not to forget a friendly jibe at Kajol for putting on weight since her slender-oh-so-tender days.

In the event, despite the rough-hewn technique, rudimentary special effects, gaudy colour tones and the derivative content, the silver linings save the day for Dilwale, enhanced by the catchy Gerua song composed by Pritam.


Needless to point out, the performances are a mixed bag. Boman Irani, as ditzy don, hams big-time. Varun Dhawan seems to be constrained by an underdeveloped role. Ergo, he seems to be content with a pass-class report card. By comparison, his sidey (Varun Sharma) seizes a chance to display his acting chops impactfully in a solo outburst vignette.

Without a shadow of a doubt, Dilwale rides on the shoulders of Shah Rukh Khan, impressive as ever while switching from the iron-tough sort to the butter-soft lover boy. And Kajol rocks. Quite piquantly, at one point she asks, "Kaisi lagi meri acting? World class, hai na?" Absolutely, yes.

To wrap, don't commit the error of expecting the world out of Dilwale. Go with your expectations low. Strong chances are that you might actually come out, wearing half-a-smile on your face.


Image source: facebook/DilwaleTheFilm