Going by the title and the fact that this film’s soundtrack includes reimagined versions of Kala Sha Kala and Sawan Mein Lag Gayi Aag (Mika Singh’s first chartbuster), this one seemed like those countless films that celebrate all things Punjabi. But what we do get is a desi ghee version of Because I Said So, the 2007 romcom where a meddling mum takes it upon herself to set up her daughter with a match she has trained to please. As an additional track, there’s also an obsessive hanger-on ex who’s been dilly-dallying over tying the knot even while the girl seems uncertain about his prospects or her priorities.
Set in Delhi’s nerve ends, the film’s eponymous Sunny Sethi (Vikrant Massey) has dual dreams which aren’t mutually exclusive: get hitched and acquire his dad’s hardware store which he hopes to convert into Tilak Nagar Tandoori Nights, an establishment that he hopes to helm one day. But when none of his relationships crystalise, he’s compelled to take up a unique offer: his childhood crush Ginny Juneja (Yami Gautam) has a matchmaker mum (Ayesha Raza) who offers to help out. The enterprising woman trains the stuttering Sunny to steadily acquire all the necessary ticks to gain Ginny’s nod. But just when things seem to be headed for the inevitable, her ex Nishant (Suhail Nayyar), an average Jatt with a Jaguar, takes it up a notch, fermenting a sticky situation. No prizes for guessing how this folds up, but the runtime it gobbles up in the process feels a bit much to endure.
Why Gautam isn’t counted amongst the best in business is a mystery. The underrated actress has often slipped into a range of Delhi-based characters who struggle in articulating or even accessing their more intimate feelings. She’s effortless as Ginny and closely follows her moods and churns. Massey is yet to be seen as a mass entertainer (his onscreen turns have often restricted him to a brooding recluse). But this film gives him the opportunity to get through the grind and even break a leg in several song-and-dance routines. But the highlight here has to be Raza, who conveys her concerned and conniving mum with much abandon and carves an amiable character who stands out.
Written by Navjot Gulati and Sumit Arora (story, dialogues), this one strives to draw twisted parallels and leans on tested tropes that seem excessive if not divorced from logic. For instance, when the hero describes his combustible equation with the heroine as that between milk and lemon -- destined to curdle -- the heroine’s mum rationalises the chemical reaction by saying that it is “all that Punjabis have: emotions and paneer”. But if you’re one to buy such analogies featuring byproducts, this one constructs a cottage of cheesy one-liners to whet your appetite. There’s also one that drives a compelling argument for all the Punjabi names that can be assigned to humans and cocker spaniels as well (Jonty, Shampy, Ginny...): for Punjabi parents, love trounces logic while naming their children. Let’s hope that inexplicable emotion sails us through this one too.