Dono, Review: Between Dono and Donot

It takes two to get married. Three into two won’t go. So how about four? That’s a no-no. No, not four persons getting married ensemble, but the bride and the groom, plus two heart-broken souls. That sounds an interesting premise. Even as the couple are preparing to exchange vows, there is a man around, who secretly loved the bride-to-be, and there is a woman, who has broken-up with an abusive and domineering boy-friend, who is around too. Nothing can be ruled out. To follow the destinies of these four individuals, Rajshri Productions take us to Thailand for a destination wedding. They call their tale Dono, which is an odd spelling, meaning ‘both’. It needed an n at the end. It sounds even more odd in English. What they probably meant was that both are in similar states in matters of their hearts. What the film has to say, in essence, can be found in so many self-help books, or would be standard advice from a psychological counsellor. The rest is just another Rajshri extravaganza.

Dev is running a start-up in Bengaluru. He is 25, and awkward, when it comes to presenting himself. What’s more, he cannot even tie the knot of a tie properly (a standard tie-knot is called the Windsor). His youth and awkwardness drive away a client, who laughs derisively, at least thrice, when Dev introduces himself as the CEO of his company. Soon afterwards, he gets a call from Mumbai. His childhood friend Alina’s mother is on the line and she invites him for the engagement of Alina. This call and the news pierces Dev bleeding heart. He has been secretly in love with her for ten years, and never got around to expressing himself. Alina has always treated him as her best friend. When forced, he agrees, with a heavy heart, to attend the wedding, which is to take place in Thailand.

Both families are apparently very rich, so everything is on a grand scale. There is singing, dancing, colour, costumes to die for, and a host of ceremonies. As Alina’s best friend, Dev has to run some errands, which he does gladly, and yet, with business at zero level and his feelings getting the better of him, he sulks. Among the guests from the groom’s side is Meghna. She is employed in a Mumbai office and is still in the throes of a break-up with her boy-friend, Nikhil, whom she had been dating for six years. The boy-friend, too, is there at the wedding, as a guest from the boy’s side. Highly conservative, the boy’s Rajasthani family does not want Alina to wear clothes that reveal any skin. Moreover, there is quite a scandal on account of a video the bride and the groom, Gaurav, getting kind of intimate, before the wedding is solemnised. Dev meets Meghna, and, slowly, they draw close to each other. Then, at one point, Alina learns that Dev was mad about her all these years.

TV writer Manu Sharma joins debutant director Avnish Barjatya in the script department. The story, screenplay and dialogue remind you of romantic novels of the 1960s and 70s. If you reduce it to a minimal pitch, minus the vast canvas, the story would read, “A man does not confess his love for his best friend, and the girl decides to marry someone else. Moral: Say it when you should. Don’t nurse it for 10 years. A woman who is in a relationship with a man takes a lot of nonsense from him for six years, and then opts out. Moral: Put your foot down when it begins, not six years later.” Are these 67 words enough to make a 156-minute film, with a cast of hundreds? I think not. Along with the developing bond between Dev and Meghna, an attempt is made to tell the story of the wedding, from the bride and the groom’s point of view. The track runs parallel, and is not integrated with that of the main characters. There is a large dose of philosophising and advising, with almost everyone ready with a cure for a psychological condition.

One main point the writing team has overlooked is the scene when Alina learns about Dev’s feelings for her and asks him why did he not express them earlier. He replies, “It took me ten years to realise it myself. How could I have expressed them earlier?” This negates the whole ten-year span when he was pining for her. At the same time, she suggests that they runaway and get married. How can she even think on these lines on the wedding day, more so because Gaurav loves her madly? The Wedding Planner is the joker in the pack, and no client of any standing would hire such a bumbling fool. With money flowing like water, surely they needed an agency of repute to make the arrangements. A privileged intrusion as it may be, the whole concept of an Indian Emporium in Thailand, on a grand scale, where the large staff and the septuagenarian manager/owner indulge in song, dance and clowning is funny, the fun being of the ludicrous variety.

Avnish Barjatya is the youngest of the Barjatya family tree to wield the megaphone. Founded in 1947 by late Tarachand Barjatya as a distribution company, Rajshri Pictures ventured into film production with Aarti. It has continued making films till now, 60 years later. With Maine Pyar Kiya, Rajshri had its first director, Sooraj Barjatya, son of RajKumar Barjatya and grandson of Tarachand. Sooraj has made several films since then, including Hum Aapke Hain Koun, the quintessential wedding film that broke several box-office records. Avnish is Sooraj’s son, so he is a fourth generation Barjatya. That is the kind of baggage he had to carry in his first foray. He, obviously, could not resist the big, fat, opulent, Indian wedding trap. And whereas Hum Aapke Hain Koun was steeped in Indian soil, Avnish decided that the intensely beautiful locale of a Thailand island would clinch half the issue. It does not work. Since the boy’s family is terribly orthodox, why would they want their son to get married in Thailand, not exactly a puritan’s destination?

Crowding the scenario with about two dozen characters, other than the four main players, was another bad idea. We see some of them mouthing a few lines occasionally, but, by and large, we don’t even know/remember their names. Coming to the man who never smiled, no logical reason is given for his demeanour. And you know from a mile away that this is where he is going to smile, so where’s the punch? Likewise, the client in Dev’s office had no business to laugh derisively, at least thrice. He could have just mumbled something sarcastic, and left. To his credit, Avnish does not come across as a stark newcomer. Hum Aapke Hain Koun had 14 songs and a running time of 199 minutes. I feel there were 16 songs and a run time of 215 minutes when I saw it at a preview, much before its release. Avnish fills Dono with 8 songs, and a running time of 156 minutes. It is a legacy, but a bad legacy to emulate. The songs themselves are not bad, but like most songs of recent films, have little recall value. The central conflict in the story is so soft that it is almost absent. And the same goes for the twists, conspicuous by their absence. Occasional technical wizardry, in moderation, and extracting sincere performance are areas where Avnish scores.

All eyes were on Rajveer Deol, Sunny Deol’s younger, brother, and Paloma, the daughter of yesteryear’s heroine Poonam Dhillon. Inheriting part of her mother’s looks, she has a personality of her own. She was launched by Yash Chopra, while Paloma has another gigantic banner, Rajshri, launching her. Rajveer could have been launched under the family banner, with the blessings of film personalities like grandpa Dharmendra, grandma Hema Malini, Papa Sunny Deol and uncle Bobby Deol. But maybe the failure of the Karan Deol (Rajveer’s elder brother) starrer Pal Dil Ke Paas (2019) made them reconsider their decision. Paloma was a football freak before the filmy genes began to get activated. Rajveer, who I spotted outside the Deols’ Sunny Super Sound preview theatre on a couple of occasions, appeared as a quiet, introverted soul. He has just the role for him in Dono. Paloma spans a wider gamut of emotions and looks very appealing when she smiles, which she does rarely, according to the dictates of the script. At 29 and 27, they match each other’s age perfectly.

It was nice to see veteran Paintal as the Indian Emporium owner/manager. Though he does well, how I wish they had made better use of him. Others in the cast are Aditya Nanda as Gaurav Kanikka Kapur as a bubbly Alina, Muskan Kalyani as Young equally bubbly Alina, Rohan Khurana as the villain of the piece, Nikhil, Manik Papneja as Dev’s sidekick, Gopal "Gappu", who believes in direct action, Poojan Chhabra as Vilas Kothari, Sanjay Nath as Jagmohan, Nikhil's father, Micky Makhija as Dilip Saraf, Dev's father, whose acerbic comments about Dev defy logic, Mohit Chauhan as Ashok Jaisingh and Tisca Chopra as Anjali Malhotra, the aunt agony on a TV channel. She is slick, as usual.

Eye-pleasing locales and a feast of colours make Chirantan Das’s cinematography soothing. Editing by Shweta Venkat Mathew leaves something to be desired, the film being too long to remain manageable. But let us not forget that the final say in any cut is that of the captain of the ship. Songs by Shankar–Ehsaan–Loy, not an expected name for a Rajshri venture, do their job well. Background Score by George Joseph is louder than acceptable.

There are a few sentimental moments which might even bring a tear to some eyes. That notwithstanding, with its Dono newcomers, the film is more in the Donot zone than in the Do zone. It is not a badly made film, just a disappointing film.

Rating: **

Trailer: https://youtu.be/vX-8Xvon8tM