Laugh away your blues

Nonika Singh

Much of it is over the top… a lot of it makes little sense and attention to detail is a casualty. Who goes to mental health facility for marital tiffs? But, if you can overlook ( not hard to do so) the inadequacies, the second outing of Tanu Weds Manu, is a bagful of fun. It tickles your funny bone and keeps it tickling for the most part that is. 

So here it goes. Four years after Tanu( Kangana Ranaut) had wed Manu(  R. Madhavan), the couple is battling marital blues. A fit in the presence of doctors and the husband finds himself locked up in a mental facility. The wifey takes the first flight home, actually Kanpur, for UP is a ground our director is familiar with and understands only too well. Here, he also moves to another terra firma the jatland Haryana and brings to fore its desi gutsy gals, as spirited as the original Tanu. In case, you missed the prequel, fret not. The sequel fills in the missing gaps and reminds you Raja Awasthi (Jimmy Sheirgill) is a former beau. Tanu still can make guys swoon and the latest to fall for her wild west ways is a budding lawyer (Mohammad Zeeshan Ayub is  slightly overstretched). 

The husband, however, has had enough. Never mind that he can’t help himself from falling in love with a wife look alike. Behold, Kangana again, ahem Kusum, the college athlete from Haryana studying in Delhi University on sports quota, as she keeps reminding. No wonder his Sikh friend Jassi stands amused—Manu what’s the point in having another car in the same colour? 

Thanks to some clever frothy writing, comic punch lines hit home nine on ten times. Though much of the humour emanates from Kangana’s Haryanvi avatar, the cameos get it right too. The most endearing,  is Pappi (Deepak Dobriyal). As the family faithful of Manu Sharma, he is first rate and has some of the best lines, even a take on the Lolita syndrome. 

Thanks to him and many directorial flourishes, till the first half the film is a breeze. Before you wink you are at the half-way mark. Post interval some bits become heavy,  lead laden. There is a distraction too. As Rajesh Sharma, Kusum’s progressive bro, gives his Haryanvi biradari a sermon on female foeticide and cherishing daughters. But that is just a fleeting interjection in a film whose singular aim it is to amuse and amuse. We do stand amused and bemused too, as  Tanu walks in, clad in just a towel. Unapologetic and unabashed she plonks herself right in front of strangers. Kangana’s towel act and some others bits appear a trifle unconvincing. It’s in the part cast and moulded as a Haryanavi athlete that she excels and steals your heart. Her act is spot on and the film  finds a body and heart in her portrayal, especially in the scene in which she defends her desi looks.

The film’s final take on marriage and sacred vows may not disturb the status quo. However, its mirthful status is near constant. Despite a few rough edges post intermission, it’s a delightful watch. To be honest one hasn’t laughed so much in a while. Only grievance, wish the male actors  Madhavan and Sheirgill, though effective, had more room to maneuver. Ha, but then how often do you get to see a heroine in a Bollywood film that all but walks over its male co-actors. Kudos to Kangana. So dear feminists, who took issues with Raanjhanaa (remember the Romeo vs stalker debate), take a break. Before you start questioning here too how can a daredevil woman watch her husband take saat pheras with another woman… stop analysing, relax and simply enjoy the film. The couple may or may not get over their marital blues, the movie’s fine comic tenor is likely to kiss away yours.