Finding love next door and getting married to your neighbour is an idea rife with possibilities: comic, dramatic and, perhaps, even tragic. That’s the base on which Motichoor Chaknachoor tries to build itself. 36-year-old Pushpinder (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) works as an accountant in Dubai and is desperate to get married; 25-year-old Annie (Athiya Shetty) is dying to flee from Bhopal and settle abroad. What happens when they decide to tie the knot with each other?
The script doesn’t hit the right notes from the beginning itself. For one, the whole formula of marriage-obsessed, quirky families in non-metro India is getting too preponderant for comfort. There is a good supporting cast here essaying the various roles but they are not given enough chance to add any freshness to the proceedings. Nawazuddin Siddiqui tries to save the social comedy with his laconic timing but the script itself lacks the vital punch. Athiya Shetty as the lady love doesn’t offer him much support either. She looks transplanted than belonging to the world. While Siddiqui seems to be at total ease in the surroundings, Shetty tries way too hard and their lack of tuning shows on screen. The two are poles apart, right from their heights to their personalities. The mismatch could have made some sparks fly. But no nyet nada nahin.
- Director: Debamitra Biswal
- Starring: Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Athiya Shetty, Vibha Chibber, Navni Parihar, Vivek Mishra, Sapna Sand
- Run time: 2 hours 30 minutes
- Storyline: 36-year-old Pushpinder is desperate to get married, 25-year-old Annie is dying to settle abroad. They happen to be neighbours in Bhopal. What happens when they decide to tie the knot with each other?
The rough humour, even the political incorrectness, of a few lines works given the context of the place and its denizens but the film doesn’t know when to stop and how to stay sharp and pointed. It meanders on even as the audience gets desperate for a closure. What’s worse is that blame for every single misstep and confusion is taken back to the women. Men come out shining bright.
Bhopal offers some respite from the ususal UP-Punjab setting though the lingo — hamau (us), tumau (you), pin (but) — takes a while to get used to. What is strange, however, is the way the lyrics lapse into instant Punjabi. So the modhi (gal) in the dialogues turns into kudi in the songs. Out of place and a tad hard to stomach that.
