The nature of film reviewing is such that it requires a willing subjecting of oneself to the worst vagaries of filmmaking. Of course, one has to endure a whole lot of tripe, even if one is able to grasp some of the sincerity in the debacle. But there is also a particular, special crop of films that surpass everything and are in a league of atrociousness where the blandest feels almost life-threatening in its pure terrible-ness. The unmitigated horror of sitting through such unwavering, stubbornly single-minded awful films is strong enough to deliver a jolt of existential panic. Simarpreet Singh’s Wild Wild Punjab immediately establishes itself in such an august company.
It beggars belief how asinine and utterly silly this film is. But that’s not to say the film has an innocence to it. Instead, there’s a jaundiced worldview of jilted men and hurtful, shrewd women that permeates the film. It’s not surprising, considering the film is produced by none other than the proud mascot of misogyny, Luv Ranjan. A toxicity colors the perspective grounding the film, wherein men feel they are perfectly entitled to their rage since they have been failed by the women they so passionately love and are loyal to.
The very premise of the film is ludicrous. Rajesh Khanna (Varun Sharma) is heartbroken to discover his girlfriend has been cheating with his boss at the office where they both work. He is shattered but struggles to sever an emotional bond. The final blow is when the girlfriend announces her marriage to the boss. Khanna’s friends take it upon themselves to convince him that he must directly land at the wedding and tell on the girl’s face that he is over her. The men are adamant about securing their masculinity and ensuring the woman gets at least some pang of rejection.
Each of the friends has their own issues that stay firmly on the level of amateurish cliches. Gaurav (Jassie Gill), who is in constant fear of his imposing father, lands in a situation where he ends up with a bride, Radha ( Patralekhaa). Manjot (Honey Singh) gets emotional and weak-kneed the minute someone appeals to his protector reflex.
Then there is Arore (Sunny Singh), who is restless about landing his next hook-up with a woman. Into the mix, a druggie, Meera (Ishita Raj), gets added so that the narrative can spruce up on the action front. The character, if you can accord it that dignity, serves no purpose or is remotely tolerable other than the fact that she has been incorporated to bring in a definite rival gang of drug barons that start tailing the boys in hot pursuit. Naturally, cops come into this plot blend, but that remains unforgivingly juvenile.
The humor is low-IQ, and none of the characters ever rise above stock inclinations and become people we can connect to. The one defining emotion all the actors are able to elicit is pure irritation. It’s bewildering the chaos the film believes in as a way of retaining interest. Nevertheless, the makers couldn’t be more deluded since every overcrowded, frantic sequence, jostling with excruciating levels of high, witless energy, functions to make the film doubly unbearable. Everything about the film, from the manic pace to the stupidity of the situations, is insufferable.
Wild Wild Punjab has three writers credited, including Luv Ranjan, for the story. It’s most baffling because the screenplay is unnecessarily convoluted and yet startlingly has the untrained naivete of a toddler trying to learn the ropes of basic narrative arcs. This is an infuriatingly banal film that renders the entire point of film criticism futile, given how it reflects no kindness for any viewer in its barrage of flat, washed-out circumstances.
