Batti Gul Meter Chalu Review - No Sparks Flying.

Let me give it to you straight. I didn’t expect much from Batti Gul Meter Chalu. Directer and editor Shree Narayan Singh has proven in the past (the horrifying Toilet: Ek Prem Katha from 2017) that he doesn’t have a knack for properly disguising PSAs as works of art. If anything, Batti Gul is a build up to that same promise. It lacks any flair or artistic sensibility and has the subtlety of a sledgehammer. But this time, the main culprits are screenwriters Sidhartha Singh and Garima Wahal, whose regressive, tepid and arid approach plagues much of the film.

The basic story is such - SK, Nauti and Tripathi are three friends who live together in Tehri, Uttarakhand. Things are light and sunny in this picturesque town until Tripathi gets an electric bill for his newly formed printing press amounting to 54 lakhs. He commits suicide. And doused along with Tripathi is any semblance of a plot, a story or even pure logic. Because, after a ridiculously long first half that stretches to a point of snapping, Batti Gul Meter Chalu becomes unintentional comedy, and then a re-incarnation story and ultimately a PSA that directly calls out the city-dwellers for their nonsensical handling of electricity.

It’s all too much, and especially since the talent both in front (Shahid Kapoor, Shraddha Kapoor, Divyenndu, Yami Gautam) and behind (Shree Narayan Singh, Sidhartha-Garima) the camera is grossly inept, Batti Gul Meter Chalu is a slog from hell. The film has the same basic framework as Toilet. Its first half is bogged down by this ridiculous love triangle, that eats up much of the runtime, so that in the second half, when the film finally swings into full force, you’re long past awake or even caring about any of these people.

The film is overlong and pedestrian. But unlike Toilet: Ek Prem Katha, where the women had some heft, here we get some sorry excuses for independent girls. Shraddha Kapoor plays Nauti, whose real character description is that of a plot filler. When the story, which is inherently dramatic and hammy, needs a lighter and frothier touch, Shraddha’s character Nauti, who is the self-proclaimed ‘agli Manish Malhotra’, is re-introduced into the narrative. This haphazard treatment of all of its characters, except the grossly unlikable SK (Shahid Kapoor), means that you can’t emotionally invest in any of them.

It doesn’t help that the entire first half, which is over one hour and twenty minutes long, is beautifully summed up in its three minutes and one second long trailer. They even tell you who dies in the ‘cliffhanger’ of a first half. But, you sit patiently with bated breath, waiting for Batti Gul to come into full swing. And in spurts, it does. Especially during the masterful song ‘Har Har Gange’, sung by Arijit Singh, its actors and the storyline soar. But, in the second half, the story, writing and acting become even more inert, foolish and over-the-top. It lacks any vigour.

Even the courtroom setup, which is designed to lend itself to Bollywood’s crowd-pleasing monologue template, is foolish to say the least. There’s a judge (Sushmita Mukherjee) who is addicted to cricket. So, even when the defence lawyer (played by an out-of-depth Yami Gautam), is presenting some data, the judge is frequently inquiring about how many wickets India’s taken. The film makes a mockery out of the courtroom, and that’s mainly due to its leading man, who cowers to his surroundings and succumbs, wasting his acting chops and just over-acting the hell out of it.

Shahid tries to genuinely move you in the nonsensical first half, but his dialogue is peppered too frequently with the words ‘thehra’ and ‘bal’ for him to make any sense. In fact, this entire cast, makes a mockery of the Garhwali accent, speaking some gibberish. None of them, except (surprisingly enough) Shraddha Kapoor, get a grasp onto the dialect. Shraddha blends into her surroundings, when Shahid and even Divyenndu, who resorts to mopey eyes and silent glares, can’t. She might be the only saviour of this god-awful film.

That’s not it, however. Batti Gul Meter Chalu over-simplifies the electric company squabble in rural areas, reducing it to a three-man bench, who is obsessed with water. The three men speak and emote as if they are high on cocaine, the same cocaine Shree was on when he was supposedly ‘editing’ this film. It’s even rudely misogynistic, extracting gags out of a woman reading erotica. Aren’t we past that? There’s even this ridiculous sub-plot that, I kid you not, is in black and white. It involves two gentlemen (who also use ‘thehra’ and ‘bal’ as if their lives depend on it) named Vikas and Kalyaan. Get it? Vikas (development) and Kalyaan (welfare). This is the smartest you’re going to get out of this film.

It’s overlong, stupid, tedious and perhaps an even bigger offender than Shree’s propaganda piece - Toilet: Ek Prem Katha. Also, at over 2 hours and 40 minutes long, it’s bloated and too much to handle. Ultimately, there’s no creativity

This team’s bulb seems to have fused.