There is an overlooked scene in 'Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jaayenge' that would best sum up the experience of watching 'Befikre'. When the gala dinner at Paris is announced to Simran and her friends, one of them, played by Anaita Shroff Adajania, gushes excitedly about there being singing, dancing and boys. But the subsequent dinner turns out to be a saddening bore before, obviously, it is enlivened by Shah Rukh Khan's Raj shaking his leg. As the said friend puts it, 'Yeh party kitni boring hai!'
Alas, Aditya Chopra, who made both the films, does the same mistake, promising us a hell of a party and then giving us one hell of a big, albeit beautiful, bore.
'Befikre' starts off on an appropriately rollicking note, its lusty tongue firmly in its shiny cheek. A wonderfully scored and equally beautiful opening credits medley introduces us to Paris and its helplessly romantic lovers of all ages and sizes French-kissing with free, reckless abandon on the staircases, cobblestoned streets and wide open boulevards. Things feel potentially thrilling at this stage and one might be forgiving to expect that Chopra, the most hard-boiled mainstream Bollywood storyteller, can be Woody Allen too.
Unfortunately, folks, that is all you will get.
Dharam, a cocky and ribald Delhi boy who is apparently lost in this pretty city, has just broken up with Shyra, a leggy lass who cannot stand the fact that he chooses to watch 'Game Of Thrones' in full volume. They split, then reunite in between odd coincidences- it helps that Shyra, normally a plucky tourist guide debunking all the myths of the city's romantic legacy, moonlights as a waitress in her father's restaurant. The two are still wondering out aloud, ala Alvy Singer, what exactly went wrong and the film cuts in from a frolicsome past that went awry to the present day where they decide to bond as friends and not as lovers again.
And while that might sound like one crackling rom-com script on paper, trust me that 'Befikre' might be visually sumptuous and even try its damn hard to pile up both sexual fireworks and slapstick gags but it lacks the most important thing- a proper plot along with actual stakes that would make us root for the romance being served.
To begin with, there is not much of a romance being served here as well. Dharam and Shyra's moment of truth is one that is devoid of sparks and chemistry and we only get to know that both can shake a leg together with flawless grace and spunk before both of them slip into bedsheets with easy convenience. Yes, that is all it takes for both of them to start a relationship; the pair starts daring each other, like a bunch of juvenile adolescents, to do a number of preposterously silly things- from slapping stern-faced cops to stealing away kinky lingerie- before breaking up with all the inevitable arguments and squabbles between them. Sure, all this is fine but there is little or no sizzle between the leads- as we see them doing wild things just for the heck of it rather than to set the stage actually on fire.
Still, there is a slick style to 'Befikre', a certain, unabashed breeziness to the proceedings that tries to disguise the absence of a solid narrative beneath all the pomp and show. Post-interval, we expect things to take an intriguing dramatic turn, to help unexpected things develop between them but Chopra starts throwing away his bag of tricks right away. Vishal-Shekhar's rambunctious soundtrack is wasted away mostly on lengthy song and dance numbers that take Dharam and Shyra on a whirlwind tour of Paris' most spectacular sights, shot deftly by Kaname Onoyama, which don't quite make sense and when the time comes for the stakes to come up, for conflicts to arise and challenges to overcome, the film presents us with a bland stew of the same ingredients.
One of the biggest mistakes that our seasoned directors make while trying to be all hip and cool with romance is that they try every darn trick in the book without ever overcoming their own inherent shortcomings. Karan Johar's 'Ae Dil Hai Mushkil' gave us an uncommonly spunky romantic pair but lost its way by trying too hard to be serious and unconventional. 'Befikre' has the opposite problem. Chopra tacks on plot elements ripped off from his peers in the field. Like in an Imtiaz Ali film, its leads succumb to romance even with blissful denial while, like in a Johar film, they are also essentially good-looking and even self-sufficient folks without a shred of empathy to them. And even with these touches, the end result is pure Aditya Chopra- utterly predictable, cliched and unnecessarily long-winded and ponderous.
And yet, even as both 'Mohabbatein' and 'Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi' were far from even remotely memorable, they were at least films which infused some ham-fisted drama and emotional conflict in the tales they told. There is nothing new in 'Befikre'. Even as things take a new turn with the arrival of Shyra's potential suitor, the way the film deals with him as well as the troubled feelings of the lead pair is utterly devoid of believability. And this is because, for all the film's ideas of fun (from bastardizing Bollywood songs in karaoke parties to taking fancy trips to picturesque escapades on luxury boats), there is nothing where there should be a throbbing heart of love.
This is all a shame since everyone, apart from the director, seems to be trying his or her best to make it special. Sharat Katariya, who directed last year's 'Dum Lagaa Ke Haisha', co-writes with Chopra some snappy dialogue (from equating a relationship to a mutual fund to tweaking the word 'prayaschit' with hilarious effect) and there are a few stray splendid sight gags- Dharam stirring a cup of tea tersely while facing Shyra's mother doing the same nervously, or the latter rolling flour for parathas with a bottle of liquor. There are a few wisecracks hurled at Paris too- at one point, Dharam wonders whether there is even one place in the city when people are not romancing each other.
The actors themselves are far from awful. Vaani Kapoor's Shyra is a severely muddled-up character; the way she morphs from all fiery and feisty to troubled and conflicted is tough to stomach. But at least, she nails her French quite well and brings some energy into both her left leg and her ribald tropes, though she could do with better dialogue delivery. And Ranveer Singh can do this now in sleep, filling up his Dharam with a hefty blend of irresistible sincerity and split-second spontaneity. From nailing a hilarious scene with a corn flake and a Deadpool bathing robe to gobbling up chicken wings to shaking his leg with an unabashedly impulsive streak of mischief, his Dharam is a delightfully goofy soul with wide-eyes and a bushy tail that alone propels the film's most ridiculous parts easily.
And yet, above all the little glints of promise, it hurts that Chopra, the man who made that immortal classic of romance, has churned out a film that pretends to be all cool but is glaringly out of touch with reality. The beauty of that film, as in all great Bollywood romances, was how it rooted its unconventional premise with a wonderful traditional backbone. And that is not the case here at all. As Bowie sang, don't believe in modern love. Especially, not this kind of modern love.
My Rating- 2 Stars Out Of 5.
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