Director: Sai Kabir
Writers: Sai Kabir, Amit Tiwari
Cast: Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Avneet Kaur, Mukesh S Bhatt, Vipin Sharma
There are some strange images floating around in my head. Like Nawazuddin Siddiqui speaking to a cat named Elizabeth. Or jiving to a Spanish song in a nightclub, while tight close-ups of his face try to salvage his moves. Or breaking down on a beach when his young wife threatens to abort a baby that’s not his, and then aggressively kissing her. Or breaking down everywhere – when he gets arrested, when he slaps his colleague, when he declares his love, when he breathes. Or newcomer Avneet Kaur declaring that she can’t tolerate poverty. Or – and this is the most vivid image – Kaur dancing for shady men on a stage, where Siddiqui’s idea of rescuing her is to turn up in drag and dance with her before whisking her away during a…shootout? I watched Tiku Weds Sheru and went to bed for the night, so now I’m not sure if I actually watched it or just had one of the worst fever dreams. And if it wasn’t a dream, how do I unsee these scenes? How do I go back in time and warn my 12-hour-younger self to be mentally prepared for one of the weirdest films of the year? Where’s a multiverse when you need one?
Over the years, I’ve learned that terms like “quirky” and “eccentric” in the synopsis are often red flags. They’re a license for characters and storylines to go rogue, follow no rules, behave like nincompoops and turn ‘losing the plot’ into an aesthetic. Sai Kabir’s Tiku Weds Sheru – which is also actor Kangana Ranaut’s maiden production – plays out like the most disorienting hybrid of Tanu Weds Manu (spirited small-town girl; arranged marriage), Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi (old-kind husband; potential soulmate) and Satya (Mumbai story; hustler ready to straighten up for love). Siddiqui is Shiraz ‘Sheru’ Khan, a junior artist and struggling actor who doubles up as a fixer for sleazy politicians. I could swear there’s an early scene in which a politician suggestively caresses his thigh. But I can’t vouch for any of these visuals today. At this point, I’m better off believing that my mind is playing tricks on me. Kaur (whose spark is undone by the screenplay) is Tasneem ‘Tiku’ Khan, a girl from Bhopal who agrees to marry Sheru so that she can reach Mumbai and elope with her lover. (In their first meeting, she gets beaten up by her brothers; in their second, she chews gum like a boss). When she informs said lover that she might be pregnant with his child, the scene at a railway station is played for quirky and eccentric laughs. For some reason, it ends up with her chasing him. And we end up with the sort of second-hand embarrassment that stems from watching a bad stand-up routine.
Eventually, Tiku grows feelings for her husband Sheru because of two reasons. One, he accepts her child and rebellious past with open arms. And two, he pretends to be rich (the modest flat they’re staying in is apparently a make-shift space till some big business deals come through). In her eyes, he’s a film financier in cahoots with the underworld; it’s fine, because at least there’s (the illusion of) money. In the meantime, he decides to sober up. He abandons his part-time pimping gig because he has a family. His partner (Mukesh S Bhatt) gets very angry. But when Tiku tells him that she can’t stand poverty (no, not a dream), I think he doubles down and becomes a drug smuggler. I think, okay? Don’t take my word for it.