Kahani Rubber Band Ki, Review: Precaution first, protection afterwards

No, it is not the story of a rubber band. The term is used as a euphemism for something that was known as French Leather in the latter part of the twentieth century. Towards the end of the twentieth century and till now, the term ‘protection’ has taken its place. It appears from the film, set in Varanasi, that in towns and Tier III (small) towns at least, men are still shy about saying the word “condom”. Not only that, some are so embarrassed that they end up buying sweets or chocolates when asked by the chemist what they want. The cheapest and most convenient way of family planning, it has become popular in India, ever since the family planning campaign was launched by the then government, half a century ago. But societal norms still cause the buyer to hesitate before buying. Perhaps it is associated with promiscuity, though the overwhelming majority of buyers are husbands who do not want pregnancies. Kahani Rubber Band Ki is about condom malfunction, and its consequences. It is a small film, with a subject that will have limited appeal.

Love at first sight beckons Akash Tripathi, when he sees lovely Kavya arriving on a motorcycle, untying a head scarf and jerking her hair in typical style. She too takes an instant liking to him. Kavya has a friend, Tina, and for some time there is a misunderstanding whether Akash likes Kavya or Tina, because Tina was the pillion rider on the bike. Once it is sorted out, the two have a brief courtship, after which Akash proposes. He, though a qualified engineer, has a small grocery shop and his father is a school teacher. Kavya’s father is a YouTuber, posting cookery videos. She has lost her mother. The fact that she is Gujarati, a Patel, could have been an obstruction in their marriage, but as it turns out, it does not matter. Akash says that his father wants to recover all that he has spent on his son’s life from the bride’s family as dowry, but that too proves a baseless fear. The two get married.

But just a month later, their lives are turned upside down due to an accidental pregnancy caused by a ‘protection’ malfunction, shattering all their dreams. Neither of them wanted a child so soon. This leads to misunderstandings and the complete breakdown of a beautiful relationship between Akash and Kavya, as well as between their two families. Akash begins to suspect that the child is not his, but that of Rohan, Kavya’s close friend. Shocked and humiliated, a tearful Kavya goes back to her parental home. After overhearing a conversation between a couple, Akash begins to believe that Kavya’s pregnancy could have been caused by a torn condom, a ‘protection malfunction’. Akash files a consumer complaint against the condom manufacturers, not just to protect his relationship with Kavya, but also to promote public awareness. And to fight his case, he chooses the chemist’s son, Nanno, his best friend, who is an LL.B. This was the very shop from which he had bought those condoms, but the father, not the son, was manning it when he went there.

A one-woman show, the film is produced, directed and written by Sarika Sanjot, for her banner, Moonhouse Movies. This is her second venture as producer. GST (Galti Sirf Tumhari, 2017) marked her debut as a producer, under the banner Shree Sai Cine Vision. One look at her picture on the internet, and I felt that she could have been an actor. That she is, having played a character called Sarika, in GST. She graduated in film-making from the New York Film Academy. B.S. Nirmal Raj is credited with additional screenplay and dialogue. Cases of condom malfunction are uncommon, though not unheard of. It is likely that Sarika came across a real-life court case where a condom manufacturer was sued, or there was a real-life incident in her knowledge, that triggered the idea of the film. A headline in The Guardian, dated 23 January 2000, reads, ‘Mother claims £1,20,000 over split condom.’ Point is, the court-room drama that takes-up most of the second half, is the basis, and the rest of the film is written to lead to the same. Unfortunately, neither the first half nor the second half have the required gravitas to keep audiences rivetted.

We have seen umpteen films where, in a small town, a boy and a girl fall in love at first sight. There could have been drama on the counts of the differing ethnicities and the dowry expectations, but those factors are brushed off in a couple of lines. So what remains? Some wooing, some songs, some outdoor shots of Varanasi, some scooter rides, a bit of comedy, and they are man and wife. Sarika creates the character of a doctor, a gynæcologist, rather short in height, who wears a huge wig, and is a patron of the grocery shop. He seems to be the only gynæc around, so all the pregnancies are handled by him. He turns out to be a villain. Nanno’s father has a medical condition, which causes him to wink rather noticeably after every few seconds, at some very awkward moments, which are supposed to be comic or double entendre. Dialogue is often predictable and has many errors, like the use of ‘bavajood bhee’, which translates as ‘in spite of of’, the second ‘of’ being redundant. Similarly, ‘bavajood’ is enough. ‘bhee’ is redundant.

Sometimes, the actors seem to be under-rehearsed, or waiting for a prompt. Likewise, they hold their expressions after speaking their dialogue, as if waiting for the director to say “Cut”. Very good use is made of the stop-start technique, whereby actors suddenly appear or disappear in a frame. The wedding proposal meeting is especially commendable. Some liberties have been taken in the court scenes, which is not uncommon among Hindi films. We are given no background of the heroine—what did she study, what are her hobbies, what about her mother, how is it that a Gujarati father and daughter are living in Varanasi and enjoying a comfortable life merely on the income of YouTube videos, etc. Is Sarika making a film about a serious issue and a court-room drama or is she making a comedy, with the court-room patched on? The latter looks the correct option, what with the cartoon opening titles and the opening song, playback to funny expressions. Songs are meaningful and are well-used. Many of the gestures and dialogue are offensive, crude and vulgar.

Pratik Gandhi, who played Harshad Mehta in the TV series, Scam 1992 and has been acting in films, TV and web series since 2006, is Nanno/Narendra Tripathi. At 41, he is playing somebody who should be 25-26. Rather comfortable in front of the camera, with some good timing, he speaks the Varanasi Bhojpuri with a tinge of native Gujarati accent discernible. Interestingly, he is an engineer in real life and both his parents are teachers. Manish Raisinghan (not a typo, he writes it as Raisinghan, without the i at the end, which would make it Raisinghani, a common surname) is cast as Akash Chaudhary. Manish looks rather well-fed, and that hair must be a huge wig. Active in TV since 2004, part of several short films, this is his big break. He is just about okay. Hardly any scene poses a challenge. Whereas Akash is given much more footage in the first half, Pratik gets some good scenes in the second half. Avika Gor as Kavya Patel has to look coy in the early scenes and harangued in the latter. That should easy for an actress who impressed many as Anandi in Balika Vadhu (TV series, where she was seen as Anandi, during 2008-10). Now all of 25, she is a little plump but suits the character. Although her father occasionally breaks into Gujarati, she is not made to speak the language at all. Amazingly, she has done films in Hindi, Telugu, Kannada and even in Kazakh language. Starting as a child star, she graduated to adult-ish, and, later, adult roles, 2013 onwards. Her Bollywood (heroine?) debut is named as 1920-Horrors of the Heart, scheduled for release later this year.

Rajesh Jais as Chaudhary, the school teacher, is shown teaching for about two minutes, during which scene a boy, from what appears to be class 6 or 7, stands up and says that he learnt that two men got married to each other in England. He has a couple of lines of lip-sync in the opening song and one scene where he thrashes Akash. For the rest, he is just part of the family. Competent acting. Gaurav Gera as Udit Narayan might have been named after the famed singer, but he should forget this film in a hurry. An atrocious wig adds to his ludicrous persona, hardly befitting that of a gynæcologist. The scene where Akash and Nanno come to his clinic and pretend to be homosexuals is in rank bad taste. Hemang Dave as Rasik Patel does a good job, his ample girth notwithstanding. As the grandpa Tripathi, Amit Singh Thakur has two real scenes: one in which he keeps repeating what the others say and the other when he spreads the rumour that the child Kavya is carrying is not Akash’s. Hardly a positive role, but can be excused because when you are 70 or 80, dementia and Alzheimer’s might have set in. He does look the part, though, very much.

Romil Chaudhary is cast as Rohan, the macho hunk who is very close to Kavya and at the centre of the controversy. Strangely, he is not seen at all after the controversy erupts, so no wonder his appearance has been billed as ‘special’. Romil fits the bill. Meenakshi Sethi as Akash's mother and Katyayani Sharma as Tina provide good support. Shyamlal, as Chakna, hams. Which brings us to the two veterans who are seen in the court: Aruna Irani as Karuna Razdan, a Supreme Court Advocate who holds the brief for the condom company, and Kanwarjit Paintal as Judge Pandey, officiating in District Consumers Forum. Aruna is graceful and forceful, as the scene demands. She has aged well, all of 76 now. Paintal, 74, a comedian by and large and an acknowledged mime artist, makes a curious casting as a Judge. He is made to go just that bit over-the-top, but when he is normal, he makes you forget that he is a comedian. An accomplished actor, he is still in fine mettle.

Kudos to Meet Bros and Anup Bhat for music and background music, and to Thakur for the lyrics. Cinematography by Faroukh Mistry is of the average type, capturing outdoors and indoors in standard hues. There are no great unusual angles, while the camera does shake a bit occasionally. Sanjay Sankla, the editor, lets the frame hold the action a bit longer than necessary, in most scenes. Moreover, the film would have been much crisper, had the first half been trimmed down by at least 10 minutes.

Kahani Rubber Band Ki is not the story of a rubber band, nor is it the story of a condom, which the ‘rubber band’ in the title indicates. It is basically the story of a man suing a condom company for a condom tearing during use, and causing an unwanted pregnancy. The bumbling Akash, who always ends up with a torn plastic bag and spills the contents, as shown in the first few scenes, is a complete mislead, and give you no idea of the shape of things to come. This is a film with a moral: precaution first, protection afterwards.

Rating: **

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJk3fee0o4Y