Bareilly ki Barfi (Eng.: Bareilly’s Barfi), with its traditional storytelling structure—playful narrator et al.— strives for its viewers to come as close to being plopped in front of a fireplace, with a hot cocoa on their side, finding comfort in reading their favorite book. The intent, if so, makes sense, for its protagonist’s biggest turning point, after all, is the eponymous book she picks up at one of the film’s most crucial junctures. A byproduct of its author’s tears—as is stated by him in a mixture of cynicism and bittersweet emotion—the book ends up being heartfelt enough to turn Bitti’s life around. However, that is not all.
She identifies with its protagonist.
A creation if its in-movie author, Babli, boasts character traits that are eerily similar to her own, and her search for its creator is what forms the rest of the movie. Now, if one were to glance through the plot lazily, they would just as quickly dismiss the film as an edgier spin to the various plot threads of Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s Guddi, Chandan Arora’s Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahti Hoon!, and Imtiaz Ali’s Jab We Met. Moreover, if the standard-issue trailer were anything to judge it by, it is what potential viewers do regardless.
Except, director Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari’s (Nil Battey Sannata; Eng.: Good for Nothing) sophomore effort is nothing like the movies above. Its treatment might admittedly be linear enough to fool you into complacency. However, with one unpredictable twist after the other, Tiwari manages to keep the audience on their toes throughout its runtime. Should there be any dips, however, it is the crackling, self-aware characters and their respective arcs that keep you thoroughly curious, and consistently engaged.
The world will be thoroughly pleased with Ayushmann Khurrana (Meri Pyaari Bindu, Eng.: Bindu, My Beloved) and Rajkummar Rao (Trapped), who are excellent in their respective performances. While Khurrana shines in his performance of the lovelorn schemer—his tour-de-force truly being his many moments of self-awareness—Rao’s insane depiction of his character’s dual identities will unsurprisingly bowl you over. Between the timid and the trashy, he bowls you over with his nuanced portrayal of the many crucial intricacies it embodies.
It is the excellent world building, attention-to-detail, and the many unprecedented turns its storytelling takes that makes this unique blend of simplicity and brilliance consistently engaging.
The real star of this little gem, however, is the indomitable Kriti Sanon as Bareilly’s badass Bitti, a woman comfortable in her skin, yet torn between the oppressive society she lives in and the innate freedom her identity provides her. From Dohchay (Eng.: Steal) and Dilwale (Eng.: The Large Hearted), up until the cringe-worthy Raabta—of which she was the only silver lining—Sanon has consistently proved, in spite of the redundant characters she has been given, that should opportunity strike, it would prove her worth as an actor. Bareilly ki Barfi is that opportunity, and the actress digs into her role with glee. It shows—she is phenomenal.
However, let’s focus on the ever-so-strong foundations of the film. Tiwari and the trio of writers—which includes spouse, writer-director Nitesh Tiwari (director of Disney’s monster-success Dangal; Eng.: Wrestling Competition), Shreyas Jain (Kill Dil; Eng.: Kill Your Heart), and Rajat Nonia (Behen Hogi Teri; Eng.: She’s Probably Your Sister)—aren’t just able to bring alive the weird and wonderful district of Bareilly in Uttar Pradesh to their audience. There are a lot of visual cues that help enrich it.
Bitti’s family business is the confectionary store Lovely Sweets, with its tongue-in-cheek reference to toxic masculinity through nothing but a broken banner, subverts the hilarious Is-Pepsi-Okay joke with a funny shot of two bannered drink refrigerators—Pepsi and Coca Cola—standing beside each other in the background. If that is not the most beautiful form of escapist wish-fulfillment on equality one can see, it is hard to say what else could be.
Moreover, it is not a blatantly exposited symbol by any means. Bitti’s father, who owns the store, is a closet feminist torn between society and a person’s right to independence. His equation with his daughter is more of a friend than a parent—one that irks his religious and internally misogynistic, yet good-hearted, wife (enacted by the brilliant Seema Bhargava; Dum Laga Ke Haisha, Eng.: Heave Ho!). Between the clandestine smoke breaks that he shares with Bitti and the many conversations he has with the ceiling fan visible directly above his head of the many suitors eligible for her, his character is a welcome addition to modern Hindi film fiction. Embodied to perfection by the marvelous Pankaj Tripathy (Gangs of Wasseypur), his character is an absolute delight to watch.
These tiny details—be it Rao’s fluid split between doormat and douchebag, or Ayushmann’s self-awareness leaving him torn between the good and the ghastly—are what make Bareilly ki Barfi one of the best romantic comedies in Hindi cinema today. It is traditionally structured and meant for a wider audience in comparison to the director’s debut. Like it, however, it is the excellent world building, attention-to-detail, and the many unprecedented turns its storytelling takes that makes this unique blend of simplicity and brilliance consistently engaging.
If you are looking for Nicholas Sparks or Mills and Boon in kitschy disguise, this ain’t your film. If your rodeo, however, is a seemingly unassuming film that aims to subvert all of its genre’s tropes with an incredible focus this is your movie. Bareilly ki Barfi is like a fulfilling bite of dark chocolate laced with a hint of chili. If you have had one, you know exactly what you are in for.
