Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani movie review: Karan Johar returns with an electric Ranveer Singh and Alia Bhatt

The reunion of the septuagenarian couple serves as the backdrop for Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani. Their attraction toward each other is immediate, undeniable, magnetic. As wildly different as they might be and as unbridgeable their cultural differences and familial values, they find out to their surprise that their hearts—despite the many chasms—beat just the same. Singh and Bhatt’s chemistry is electric. It was a treat to see romantic yearning and intensity that didn’t feel manufactured; to see two lovers actually kissing, like they mean it.

Though logic isn’t the film’s strongest suit, director Karan Johar doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He is determined to play up his strengths and have incredible fun while at it. And it shows. Even when excessive melodrama and preachy pedagogy bogs down Rocky Aur Rani, little moments of ingenuity shine. Like making Ranveer Singh wear a black bra or making him dance to Dola Re Dola from Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Devdas (2002). Or letting Dharmendra and Azmi share a brief peck on the lips—a moment unthinkable in their time. Or having a bevy of starlets dance with Singh in the opening track. Or making Bhatt wear exquisite sarees all through 169 minutes. Or stoking nostalgia through the liberal use of Hindi film music. It’s his 25^th year in films and Johar is in the mood to celebrate.

He has a fantastic ear for music. However, he and Pritam haven’t been able to conjure up magic this time. Rocky Aur Rani’s album is the most forgettable of all Karan Johar offerings over the years. Whether it be Tum Kya Mile or What Juhmka? the songs are better to look at than to listen to. The same is the case with the supporting cast. The Chatterjees (Churni Ganguly and Tota Roy Chowdhury as Rani’s parents, and Azmi) are effective as the refined, cultured, educated, elite Bengalis. So is Dharmendra as the loopy grandpa. But Jaya Bachchan as his rigid, sour wife Dhanlakshmi, the family matriarch, is a gross misfire. Sure she has a commanding presence, but she hams away for the most part. The rest of the Randhawas are equally lackluster.

Rani gets a raw deal compared to Rocky. His time with the Chatterjees is far more entertaining than Rani’s with the Randhawas. There is not much more to Rani than lessons in feminism; she feels stuck like a broken record. Rocky, meanwhile, gets a full arc to traverse and he does it with remarkable restraint and uncontainable zeal. Rocky Aur Rani has a bit of Kabhi Kabhie (1976), Tu Jhoothi Main Makkaar (2003), 2 States (2014), and Vicky Donor (2012), and yet, it’s very much its own film.

But we never get to know what becomes of the central conflict—where does the couple finally live? Also, why swap at the same time? Why not be there to help the other ease into the family? Why not live independently? I have a few other questions. What kind of a job can a share-market enthusiast get in a newsroom? Can one singing audition land you a televised performance? Can a news anchor conceive a staggeringly successful marketing campaign instinctively? However, like Johar, you don’t mind any of it too much for there are far more important things to look at, gush about, and marvel over. Like what, you ask? The effervescent magic, sheer charisma of Ranveer Singh and Alia Bhatt.