Mere Husband Ki Biwi

अंकुर चड्ढा और प्रभलीन ढिल्लों (जिसे फिल्म में ढिल्लों, ढिल्लोन, ढिल्लन भी कहा गया) का तलाक हो चुका है लेकिन प्रभलीन के साथ बिताए बुरे दिन अंकुर की यादों से नहीं निकल पा रहे हैं। उसे पुरानी दोस्त अंतरा खन्ना मिलती है, दोनों करीब आते हैं कि तभी प्रभलीन लौट आती है और अंकुर को वापस पाने की जुगत में लग जाती है। कौन जीतेगी इस रेस में? हस्बैंड को छोड़ चुकी बीवी या हस्बैंड की होने वाली बीवी? अपने आकर्षक नाम और अपनी कहानी की रूपरेखा से लुभाती इस फिल्म को पति-पत्नी के रिश्ते की पेचीदगियों के इर्दगिर्द बुनी एक कॉमेडी फिल्म का कलेवर दिया गया है। फिल्म अपने फ्लेवर में है भी ऐसी जिससे हल्की-फुल्की कॉमेडी उपजती रहे और रिश्तों की संजीदगियों पर बात भी न हो। अपने ‘बॉलीवुड’ से आने वाली इस किस्म की फिल्में अक्सर यही तो करती आई हैं। आइए, देखिए, टाइमपास कीजिए और जाइए। जिसे कोई सीख लेनी हो ले ले, हम तो मसखरी दिखाएंगे।

Between done-to-death tropes and flimsily updated ones, Mere Husband Ki Biwi sticks to ancient formulae yet gives a semblance of keeping up with the times only to confirm that old habits die hard. In Mudassar Aziz’s routine rom-com, a divorcee dangles between his fiery ex and doting fiancée sparking off a battle for one-upmanship. It starts like a cheesy David Dhawan comedy salvaged by Govinda’s inimitable lunacy back in the day and advances into a My Best Friend’s Wedding rehash sans the deliciousness of Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz’s jell-o pitted against creme brulee. Except this return to the 1990s style of whimsy evokes more nausea than nostalgia with its drab humour and out of sync performances.

A marriage annulled returns to haunt a man all set to move on in life in the lovey-dovey company of another woman. Love quickly flies out the window when the ex-wife, with a massive axe to grind, decides to do everything in her power to queer the pitch and picks up cudgels against the bride-to-be. Isn’t that the stuff that zany rom-coms are usually made of? Yes, but only in an ideal world. Mere Husband Ki Biwi, caught in a yawning gap between intent and execution, gropes in the dark for inspiration and fresh ideas and finds none worth a mention. The breakup has left a sorry trail of bitterness and the new hookup is riddled with challenges created by the man’s messy past. That is an obvious boilerplate for a cocktail of emotional bedlam, romantic recriminations, and much triangular to-ing and fro-ing. It’s all sufficiently flighty and frothy and yet painfully tedious. To biwi or not to biwi? That is the question the film runs concentric circles around and does not formulate a convincing answer.

Ankur Chaddha (Arjun Kapoor) has nightmares about ex-wife Prableen (Bhumi Pednekar), long after they’ve been divorced. Closing a real estate deal for his dad (Shakti Kapoor) in picturesque Rishikesh, Ankur bumps into the glamorous Antara Khanna (Rakul Preet Singh) who was out of reach for him in their college days. She is rich, swings between teaching handgliding and practising sports physiotherapy, and she’s single. He goes into flashbacks to tell her (and the audience) what happened with the bhootni incarnate in his nightmares. Antara and Prableen have history too, flashing back to college days, to friction in a queue to pick up a form. Memories of the taunts at Antara’s leg-revealing shorts and her retorts to Prableen, haven’t faded with time. A second jab at happiness beckons when romance blooms. Ankur even overcomes his fear of heights to propose to Antara dramatically, dropping from a parachute in front of a mall. But Prableen with her menacing “Baby, Baby” has returned, her memory conveniently blanking out their divorce.

Mere Husband Ki Biwi is such a generic and run-of-the-mill North Indian production that if it were edible, it’d be a half-crispy aloo paratha for breakfast. If it were a person, it’d be Rocky Randhawa (without the self-awareness) from Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani. If it were an emotion, it’d be the entitled rage of drivers at the Delhi-Gurgaon toll plaza. If it were a place, it’d be a breezy mustard field — but only as a painting in an upscale art gallery. I can go on, but you get the gist. It looks like every other entry in the genre: glossy, distant, intermittently alive but ultimately soulless. At least it’s environmentally conscious, because it recycles a whole book of tropes: the wise-ass best friend played by a comedian; a lustful Shakti Kapoor character; a quirky voice-over starting the film but disappearing after the introduction; an Amritsari girl who addresses her husband by either his surname, yaar, baby or baby yaar; a love triangle between a Chaddha, a Dhillon and a Khanna where two of them spend an entire half secretly competing with each other for the ‘prize’; a dozen slow-mo shots of them walking towards, past or away from each other with contempt and pride; an overseas almost-wedding; and so on and so (un)forth.

The film has a catchy title. You go in with a bit of hope, given that director Mudassar Aziz’s previous ‘Khel Khel Mein’ had a few nice moments, but that one was a remake. Here it has been written by the director, and you encounter, over two-and-a-half hours, tropes, flat scenes, and characters who come and go. Which is a pity because the lead characters appear to have taken their jobs seriously. It is no surprise that the two ladies playing romantic rivals, Bhumi Pednekar as Prabhleen Dhillon, and Rakul Preeti Singh as Antara Khanna, make you look. Plus, and this is a surprise, Arjun Kapoor as Ankur Chaddha isn’t half bad as the hapless guy stuck between the two loves of his life. They just needed a better film.