‘Sunny Sanskari ki Tulsi Kumari’: Here, there, in middle of nowhere

In a high-rise somewhere in Mumbai, Varun Dhawan wakes up to play the middle-class goofball with an exaggerated, ambiguous accent. This could be behind-the-scenes of ‘Humpty Sharma ki Dulhania’ (2014), ‘Badrinath ki Dulhania’ (2017), or the latest fever dream: 2025’s ‘Sunny Sanskari ki Tulsi Kumari’.

Credit where due: Dhawan has truly mastered the art of the charismatic but reckless simple man infected with the love bug — shirt optional, dance mandatory. And therein lies the Hamartia: over a decade after ‘Humpty’, Shashank Khaitan’s new film feels frozen in time, swapping in misplaced Gen-Z slang for actual narrative growth.

Sunny, son of self-diagnosed “middle-class” diamond traders with an opulent store, stages a full ‘Baahubali’-inspired proposal to his girlfriend Ananya (Sanya Malhotra), only to hear: “I already agreed to marry a billionaire in Italy.” Don’t you hate when that happens!

Salting the wound, she clarifies that their two-year fling was a “situationship” — because that is how youngsters are (sigh). On the dot, as always, Bollywood!

Heartbroken Sunny learns from his friend Bantu (Abhinav Sharma) that the billionaire, Vikram (Rohit Saraf), has himself broken up with teacher Tulsi Kumari (Janhvi Kapoor). How Bantu knows this — full government name and all — is one of the many mysteries left unanswered.

After stalking her — including breaking into the school she works at — “nice guy” Sunny convinces Tulsi to fake-date him and crash the billionaire’s wedding.

The story follows the four as they play out the very questions you can already answer.

The film is neither full Farah-Khan brain rot nor Guneet Monga social commentary. Somewhere in between, it’s the new-age Dharma formula: every last-decade hit shaken in a Molotov cocktail, garnished with a walking Punjabi stereotype — wedding planner Kuku. Played by Maniesh Paul as himself, he does it impeccably, so no complaints.

Dharma, fresh off its ‘Rocky Aur Rani’ “woke” phase, again tries social statement — Sunny never seems to miss a chance to lecture wedding guests about misogyny. But, the narrative collapses often into old-school problematic laughs: an aunty is fat-shamed (“yoga mat ka papad bana diya”), Ananya and Tulsi share an awkward ‘big-breast-off’ in a luxe bathroom mirror, and Tulsi teases Sunny about being scared to sleep beside her.

The film lands many intentional chuckles, and some unintentional ones too: Sunny insists he’s “more middle-class” than Tulsi because his father gives him a Rs 50,000 “salary” alongside shelter in a lavish house, and a seemingly luxurious life.

Tulsi’s backstory — divorced parents, estranged mother — sets up the film’s (unintentionally) funniest line: when Sunny says breaking hearts is “modern”, she dead-pans, “Par Maa ne bhi to toda tha.” Where’s the Oscar?

The film teaches you that winning over your Udaipur love requires a Manyavar kurta and feeding them Wow! momos over AI-generated-sounding music — no, Bunty Chinese won’t cut it.

Malhotra, usually stellar, feels adrift, while Kapoor somehow feels at home in the format. Saraf as Vikram sports a beard and a put-on baritone: sometimes convincing, sometimes as plausibly grown-up as two kids in a trench coat.

The movie is uninspiring, unoriginal, recycled. Yet there’s honesty to that — it knows it’s a light Sunday watch, something you can half-watch while scrolling Instagram or deciding dinner.