As one exits the theatre after watching Jogira Sara Ra Ra, ‘how’ is the only question that would, perhaps, circle their tired brains. How did the producers agree to make this film after reading the script? How did Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Neha Sharma and Zarina Wahab agree to be a part of the cast? How did director Kushan Nandy agree to direct it? They would be truly confused as the lights come on after the movie ends, wondering if the nightmare is truly over.
Jogira Sara Ra Ra follows the quirky antics of ‘Jugaadu’ matchmaker Jogi Pratap (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) and the madness that ensues from his efforts at breaking up Dimple Chaubey (Neha Sharma)’s arranged marriage with the naïve Lallu Pandey (Mahaakshay Chakraborty). An interesting plot at the outset, but that’s where it ends.
A confused film sometimes saved by acting
From the first scene, where he gives his staff 101 on adulterating liquor at the weddings they manage, to the interval, where he receives the shocking news that sets up the second half of the film, Siddiqui steals the show as Jogi. From his deadpan delivery to his chemistry with Sharma, his mellifluous acting helps the movie chug along, which goes from 0 to 100 on the absurdity scale within the first 40 minutes itself.
Even Siddiqui’s talent can’t salvage this highly confused and tired narrative. Throughout the first half of the film, Jogi makes it clear that he is not one for marriage but is somehow caught in a situation where he is forced to marry the now-single Dimple, a situation he (surprise) tries to escape in the second half. As it progresses, both Siddiqui and Sharma stop taking themselves seriously. The banter and chemistry between their characters that worked in the first half vanishes in the second as Sharma’s screen time reduces to accommodate Sanjay Mishra, who shines as Chacha Chaudhry, leader of the local ‘Chaudhry Gang.’ His ability to deliver jokes in his signature nonchalant and disconnected style helps breathe some life into Jogira Sa Ra Ra.
There are points in the movie where Chakraborty’s comic timing is brilliant, but the writing lets him down. Lallu is needlessly caricatural, slow, and prone to manipulation by the likes of Jogi. Not too great to watch after a point.
Similar to Chakraborty, Sharma’s Dimple, too, does not have an individual personality on screen. Feisty, preppy and loud was the approach taken to writing her character, which, for almost the entirety of the 121-minute runtime, was directed only at Siddiqui’s Jogi.
Jogi’s mother (played by Wahab) and his sisters were welcome agents of chaos who added much-needed levity to Jogira Sara Ra Ra. The idiosyncrasies of his family – well represented by the song Babua – offer a brief glimpse of what the movie could have been. At some points, Anup Bhat’s score helps highlight the hilarity unfolding on screen, but it feels completely out of place at other junctures.
Writer Ghalib Asad Bhopali runs out of ideas for the film’s second half, leading to an uneven narrative. He attempts to replace the organic banter from the first half with slapstick humour in the second, confounding the viewer.
The movie ends with a whimper, where if one blinked too long, they’d have missed the conclusion. Jogira Sara Ra Ra’s comedic jugaad could’ve offered respite from the ‘true stories’ that seem to be all the rage in Bollywood these days. Except that it fails – on all counts.
(Edited by Zoya Bhatti)