‘Tanu Weds Manu’ is a romance woven around the time-bound Indian tradition of bride hunting. An interesting premise and an interesting take-off (watch Manu’s first meeting with Tanu), however, don’t materialize into a closer look at the whole tiring exercise of an arranged marriage – the numerous meetings, the endless snacks and tea/coffee/cold drinks, the repetitive ritual of discussions, and the incessant travel.
The film quickly focuses on one girl, Kanpur-based Tanuja Trivedi, and falls into the old track of boy meets girl and thereafter. The simple, straightforward treatment of the subject keeps the proceedings interesting until the first jarring note is struck by the change of scene to Kapurthala.
TWM’s excuse to shift to Punjab, apparently for the wedding of the hero’s best friend, appears tenuous. It seems more like a reason to enforce a shift of gears so that Bhangra-driven song and dance sequences can be introduced and the proceedings made more lively.
There lies the basic problem with TWM, which despite its no-frills, down to earth storytelling, ends up being too sedate for the average film lover’s appetite. For a movie that’s essentially a love story between two young, modern people, there are not enough emotional fireworks or outbursts, especially between the lead pair. It almost ends up reminding us of the 1960s Muslim socials, where the hero and heroine strictly adhere to ‘adaab’.
A good example is the sudden mellowing of the spunky, in-your-face Tanuja (Tanu), played enthusiastically by Kangna Ranaut. Instead of Tanu giving Manu a piece of her mind for concealing his love for her, she makes a passionate plea to him to come clean. How boring!
And I wish Manu had finally done something out of the box when faced with ruffian Raja Awasthi’s (Jimmy Shergill) determination to get married to Tanu. In true Bollywood ishtyle, Manu could have eloped with Tanu (in a bike sequence with Tanu in the driver’s seat) and got married in Delhi, or something. An almost similar sequence is there in the film but in a different context.
What distinguishes TWM is its attempt to retain a semblance of real life and real characters while trying to capture small-town India. In this last aim, the film falters as it keeps changing scene from Kanpur to Delhi to Kapurthala and to and fro, not allowing the milieu of any one place to dominate. I wish the film was based in Kanpur and Delhi/Lucknow.
R Madhavan, as Manoj Sharma/Manu, comes up with a superbly underplayed performance (watch him confessing his love for Tanu) and Kangna plays the perfect foil by going the other way – the young, bored, smoking, rum-swigging, parent-hating and philandering fiancée-to-be. It’s a treat watching Kangna sing and dance to the Asha-Shamshad classic ‘Kajra Mohabbatwala’ (for once, not remixed). You know how good an actress she is when you realize that this was a role that could have easily gone over the top. But Kangna never overacts even while remaining in character throughout the film. Unfortunately, her performance gets diluted by the sudden mellowing towards the end. But it’s not her fault. The director should have taken inspiration from Shruti Kakkar (Anushka Sharma) of ‘Band, Baaja, Baaraat’.
More unfortunate is the waste of a powerhouse of talent in the forms of the splendid K K Raina, the flamboyant Ravi Kissen (he should have played Raja, not Jimmy) and the very talented Rajinder Tiwari. They end up being no more than extras.
The music, despite some impressive numbers, doesn’t seem to register while watching the movie. (But listen to the album, and the music is captivating. The Wadali brothers’ ‘Ay rangrez mere’, for instance, is refreshing). At the end, you do take home memories of the classic ‘Kajra Mohabbatwala’, ‘Sadi Gali’ and ‘Jugni’. Good work, Krsna – who happens to be the music director from Siliguri, Bengal.
TWM is a movie that’s definitely worth a watch – for the refreshing pairing of Madhavan and Kangna, the fleeting glimpses of small-town India, the attempt to make a grounded romance, and for some memorable moments (watch Manu’s friend Pappi introduce himself to a nubile Punjabi called Komal). TWM deserves an 8 on 10.
PS: I wonder if some songs were snipped out by the time I watched TWM in the third week of its release? Or are some songs available only on the album?
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