What happens when you don’t want to get married but test drive being married by living together? What happens when you get caught being ‘pretend-married’ and have to play out the pretense? What happens when you try to get married for real to make things legit but realize that life is conspiring against you? Luka Chuppi happens. But it doesn’t happen all that well, unfortunately.
Set against the backdrop of militant love jihadis who are hellbent on making sure that every relationship kowtows to societal norms and any deviations are dealt with harshly; Luka Chuppi takes on a rather contrived and elaborate path towards a happily ever after.
Kriti Sanon is a little too well put together to be convincing as a small town girl. Her body language, mannerisms always bring to mind airline attendants who wish you a pleasant flight or people in the hospitality business who smile as they give you your room key and wish you a very pleasant stay. Rather fakeish.
Kartik Aaryan is a bit more believable but not much. He’s scruffy and has hair (along with Aparshakti Khurana) that’s reminiscent of the scene from There’s Something About Mary.
Apart from a few genuine laughs sporadically sprinkled here and there, the movie goes from one choreographed mishap to another. The rest of the cast however, is pretty damn good. They’re convincing small towners and never deviate from being in character. Vinay Pathak, Aparshakti Khurana, Pankaj Tripathi, Alka Amin, Atul Shrivastav bring a strong, wholesome and realistic small town flavor to the movie and are the glue that holds things together. Guddu (Aaryan) and Rashmi (Sanon) are effectively the leads but they are far more accurately described as props.
The OST is nothing outstanding either with 2 songs repackaged from an earlier era.
This movie is worth waiting for…till it airs on Netflix on Amazon Prime. It’s no barrel of laughs but is entertaining in its own smallish way.
TO has an accent. We’re not sure which country it belongs to. It’s a relic mishmash of whatever animated programs he’s grown up watching.
He, however, doesn’t know Hindi; a language he loves listening to songs in. His pronunciations are decidedly foreign and poor dear Alexa often has problems deciphering what he wants.
The new addition on the playlist is Dilbar. TO pronounces it as Dill(the herb)+Bar(the place where people go for a drink). Needless to say Alexa’s response of, “I don’t know about the DILL-BAR. Dill is a herb ah blah blah and bar is either blah blah blah”, wasn’t unforseen. By moi. TO was part- disappointed and part-annoyed that Alexa wasn’t “getting” it.
I was called in to speak Alexan and translate the song name into something darling Alexa could make sense of and finally when the song played I got the epithet of “My favorite mother’ and a hug…the rewards of a job done perfectly.
Hang on…I have to go again…someone’s trying to tell Alexa that there’s something called ‘Abytoepaarteeshoeroueeaye’. My translator’s ears are picking up signs that it may be Abhi Toh Party Shuru Hui Hai. I’d better unconfuse the gadget before she blows a fuse.
Kids extrapolate things based on their own frame of references. Mine does it quite a bit and even more so with words of a different language.
He loves music and at different times we have played hosts to quite a few different earworms of his. One of his old favorites reemerged due to a shuffle in his playlists and we were both humming along with it when he started off with that singsong tone he singsongs more whenever he has a question to ask me, “So A…is the Bulleya song about…?” And I reacted with a mother’s instinct and one honed from dealing with these particular gems- “No baby, it’s not about bulls. It’s about a poet and thinker (because early morning rushes are rushed enough without stopping to explain what a philosopher is) whose words have been put to song and who people sing about.”
And sure enough, came the expected rebuttal which led to this bit of head scratching fun-” But it says Bulleya…BULL-eya. Are you sure it isn’t about bulls?” ” Am positive! Baba Bulleh Shah didn’t have anything to do with bulls.” “Baba??” That’s what you call P (his nickname for my dad). Why is he called Baba?” “GO TO SCHOOL. BYE BYE. HAVE A GOOD DAY. LOOK IT UP ON WIKIPEDIA.”
Mom over and out. Oh how I miss Red when he’s out of town.
Four years ago I wrote this blog post and I’m still laughing about it. Sometimes all the way to the loo because when Red ends up being funny inadvertently, it’s bad for my bladder.
One of the biggest yarns ever spun in my home is about Red getting a 92 in Hindi many moons ago. Anyone who knows him knows that to be the biggest crock of malarkey. Ever.Not surprisingly, no documentation of this mythical “92” has ever been seen.
Every now and then I’ll listen to a couple of mellow, Hindi songs which particularly pluck at my romantic vein. And that’s when Red strikes. With a seemingly innocuous question, a guileless face and completely out of the blue, he’ll make me go from a mellowed out woman to someone who looks like this-
Tonight was no different. I was looking up the lyrics to Roz Roz Aankhon Tale. Now it’s not entirely phonetically spelt out in English, I accept, but the husband cottoned onto just ONE word from the entire song, took it out of context and changed the meaning from love to cannibalism in one fell swoop!
“Taley” in Hindi means below, underneath. Talna means to fry. Somehow, Mr.92-in-Hindi grabbed onto that random memory from his vast, spacious vault of Hindi vocabulary and asked me, “Doesn’t tale mean fried?” And now, instead of remembering Kishore Kumar and Asha Bhonsle’s mellifluous duet, I’ll see eyeballs sizzling on a skillet.
Don’t be too surprised if I walk around zombie-like after sometime and turn into Cole Sear and say
substituting eyeballs of course!