Cocktail 2
Introduction
For everyone calling the new Hindi film Cocktail 2 ‘a-never-before-seen-love-triangle’, here is a reality check for you – think of Sonu Ki Titu Ki Sweety (2018) with genders reversed, add a bit of Sicily to it before returning to Luv Ranjan’s perennial base in India, Gurugram, and lace it with such a conflict that would invariably make men as green-flags, and women – the perennial red-herrings, and voila – the script of the film is ready. In fact, the virtual idea of infidelity might be an interesting space for a love-triangle – except if it is a part of a Luv Ranjan universe. It is eerily similar to how infidelity was once-upon-a-time passed off as a comedy in a David Dhawan film – primarily with the male gaze winning at the end of the day. The male gaze here remains the victim of an evil horror film working around him – something that he is completely oblivious of (and I was waiting for him to flip the narrative with You-Know-That-I-Know twist that never arrived), much similar to this year’s Obsession, except that the Nikkis are the villains here in a tale written by Bear.
Story & Screenplay
Written by Luv Ranjan and Tarun Jain, the start of Cocktail 2 is eerily similar to Luv Ranjan’s Tu Jhoothi Main Makkaar (2023), particularly with the casanova-esque traits of the protagonist Kunal (Shahid Kapoor). In a “seemingly” funny sequence, you see the masterchef protagonist woo a bunch of rude female customers with his unhinged charm before promising them a plate of exclusively curated ‘spicy’ pani-puri – only for him to venture outside his restaurant to a nearby roadside stall. The drama wants you to focus on his perennial charm as a golden-heart – wherein the protagonist just cannot say ‘No’ to anyone, a line that would eventually be repeated in the narrative, everytime there is a curveball of viewing him as a red-flag.
On the other hand, his partner-in-crime Diya (Rashmika Mandanna; another mindless justification of her character being from Hyderabad to justify her broken Hindi accent whilst having no bearings on the story) is happily stationed to be in a solid relationship with Kunal, despite not being married (or even wishing to be). It is the kind of happily-ever-after that couples crave for – usually the last reel of multiple films, only for the typical writer’s go-to hook to be introduced – she begins to suspect him of infidelity after a drunken joke gone wrong. Enter Ally (Kriti Sanon) whilst the couple are in a foreign land to ‘strengthen’ their relationship in Sicily, the smoking-hot Veronica to Kunal’s Archies, who is tasked by Diya’s Betty to seduce him – just to see on how strong his love for Diya actually is. If he slips, they breakup – if he doesn’t, the drama moves on as it is!
Almost immediately, the writing gave me an impression of a drama searching for a conflict, for how else would you assume this entire film to be mounted on such a silly conflict? The only positive from the POV of the proceedings of the first half could be that it remained breezy. But the core is so frivolous and utterly problematic that if I was Kunal, I would literally be furious. And if I were a women studying the actions of Diya and Ally, I would be even more furious given how the drama almost forms a hook around the ‘victim’ mentality of men. The subtext remains that of an ‘innocent’ male soul being lured into the darkness of infidelity against his will, doubling up as ‘Nikki’ in a world written by ‘Bear’, almost like a puppet.
So whilst Diya is (deliberately) away, Ally flirts and seduces Kunal, only for the latter to also give subtle hints along the way – like cooking Kadhi Chawal for the former, something that she could lick it off the car window after a minor accident. Or the subtle glances amidst deep conversations about life and love, that would invariably make Ally fall for her new man – the one that she believes would stay. This, even as the sociopath Diya is reduced to someone who would be orchestrating this ‘mess’ – much like the old cupboard that she is compared to at some point in the film. So when she calls about the ‘status’ of the affair, it feels like a curiosity stemming from a gossip-session, more than care or love. Perhaps, this Betty is actually ‘Bear’ while Archies is ‘Nikki’ ? Things patriarchy does to men and women characters written by men!
If you look closely, the twin settings of Sicily and Gurugram represent the character traits of the two female characters – something that is convenient and stereotypical in so many ways. And when this ‘Tu Meri Main Tera…’ template switches locations, you almost know how this film is going to end. In between, you have Ally entering the fray like Ranbir Kapoor of the Badtameez Dil vibe from Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani (2013), or perhaps Raj gate-crashing Simran’s wedding in DDLJ (1995), often providing kinks to disrupt the impending wedding, or even the potential face-off between Diya and Ally for the prized possession (or Obsession) of Kunal.
It just felt manufactured towards a huge monologue at the end that felt like an anti-thesis of a film like Obsession. The ‘Bear’ was designed to win all along in this seemingly progressive film with regressive undertones, given that it actually stereotypes the character traits on display. But to hell with the abrupt character transformations or the sudden shift in tonality towards the end. Patriarchy wins, and that is all that matters in a world where women are sociopaths, and men continue to play victims of their actions (or their lack of it). Well on the brighter side – it was happily-ever-after after all! But my mind was fixated on Kunal – did he continue to play dumb all along? Or was he the ‘Bear’ veiled as ‘Nikki’ in this world? We shall never know!
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues score best when they offer depth to the proceedings with conversations that go beyond the surface in fleeting instances. Sadly, the key word remains ‘fleeting’ which basically means that the lines were pretty flat for most parts of the runtime. The music has a specific synergy to it, while ably representing the swaying moods of the characters, even though none of the songs are chartbusters. But the vibe curated through the songs are refreshing, while also being in sync with the central care-free theme of the drama. The BGM follows a similar suit, although I did feel that it was slightly overused in multiple instances.
The cinematography is ably captures the frothy texture of Sicily, while also creating an alternately polished ambience for Gurugram later on in the narrative. The frames need to be credited for atleast creating a few moments between the characters that are heartfelt and offer depth, even though the writing derails much of the good work done. The montage sequences recreate a form of trance that hints at a fiery chemistry between the characters, something that is short-lived. But the frames atleast offer a sense of recreation that was synonymous to the wild spirit of the drama.
The editing pattern is pretty choppy, almost treating every sequence as a standalone one – without really transferring the emotions from one scene to another. It almost felt like an expensive reel cut into segments and put together in a fleeting narrative that doesn’t match the intensity of the frames.
Director Homi Adajania taps into the wild spirit of the drama in bits, but doesn’t really account for the sudden tonal shifts in the narrative. As a result, the emotions are generally frivolous and isolated just in the moment, rather than forming a cohesive chain. There are also considerable moments of lag in the second hour that add to the minutes of the runtime, even while giving the drama a conventional look. Even the world building and characterization felt way to stereotypical after a point – a moment of demarcation that was a nod to Cocktail (2012) too. In other words, a lot remained desired in this piece of direction that didn’t feel progressive enough even with the narrative style employed.
Performances
The performances remain a mixed bag here, with the primary focus being just on the three central characters (wherein even a legend like Tiku Talsania is reduced to the background). Rashmika Mandanna as Diya squanders yet another opportunity here, in a character that needed justification of her being from Hyderabad to counter her flawed nasal dialogue delivery. While her expressions are alright, you can sense that she just isn’t comfortable with the Hindi language – an issue that has largely been perennial with her journey in Hindi films. And her character is just so unlikeable in many ways, probably what the writers had envisioned too, perhaps?
Shahid Kapoor as Kunal is marginally over-the-top in scenes of frills, but definitely adds a sense of emotional gravitas to his act when it mattered at specific instances in the drama. There remained a sense of charm to his character that mixed with a hint of vulnerability at the end, made for a decent watch. But as far as his judgment of a script is concerned, it still remains an impending issue. And this can’t keep going on for too long! Time to head to the drawing board to analyze, reset and resume the proceedings.
The only actor that completely felt like a part of this world without being looked upon as ‘forced’ was Kriti Sanon. As Ally, she exudes of a phenomenal screen presence while tactfully accounting for subtle shifts in her personality with a sense of charm. I liked how she surrendered to the vision of the filmmaker while incorporating a variety of emotions through her expressions and body language that was spot-on. She was a treat to witness here, in a stellar job done through and through.
Conclusion
Cocktail 2 is an old wine in a spiked new bottle that nobody asked for. It is a flat drama chasing a conflict it never finds, trapped inside a tired love triangle. Worst of all, the main plot twist is an absolute trainwreck. It is less of a cinematic cocktail and more of a total facepalm, something that had me shaking my head in disbelief. Available in a theatre near you.