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Between tons of sexual innuendo and Kapil Sharma brand of slapstick gags characterised in loud caricatures, moronic behaviour, flimsy wigs and cartoonish rhythm, Vicky Vidya Ka Woh Wala Video's jarring notions of exuberance have nothing novel to offer, groans Sukanya Verma.
Vicky Vidya Ka Woh Wala Video has the eagerness of a standup comic.
It is the sort of movie that feels obliged to make a joke before a sentence, between a sentence and after a sentence.
Problem is the humour is not just pedestrian, it's also plain unfunny.
It's a joke, Manjot Singh in a cameo points out early on in Director Raaj Shaandilyaa's first comedy outside the Dream Girl franchise, as though embarrassingly aware of how unamusing the whole shtick is.
Shaandilyaa and his squad of writers -- Yusuf Ali Khan, Ishrat Khan and Rajan Agarwal -- waste no time in poking fun at senior citizens, Sardars, South Indians, Africans, people suffering from piles or speech impediments.
Vicky Vidya Ka Woh Wala Video's onslaught of offensive in the guise of wit is either reinforcing disrespectful stereotypes or urging us to enjoy its relentless circus of cacophony.
Too often though its threadbare plot behaves like a forcibly stretched elastic band shoving the sham down our throat for a staggering 152 minutes.
The whole point behind this no-show is to cash in on Rajkummar Rao's lovesick comedic fervour that's on an all-time high since Stree 2 and Triptii Dimri's post-Animal stardom along with a rent-free usage of music giant turned producer T-Series copyright on '90s melodies.
Set during 1997 winters when Rishikesh was still a part of Uttar Pradesh and CDs, like landline phones, enjoyed a crucial role in technology, a pair of childhood sweethearts Vicky (Rao), a mehendi artist and Vidya (Dimri), the world's most idle MBBS doctor, hatch an absurd scheme to trick their families into getting them married.
Vicky's grumbling grandfather (Tiku Talsania), sporting a monocle in one eye, a regular glass in another, a runaway big sister (Mallika Sherawat) as well as Vidya's parents, Rakesh Bedi as a quarrelsome Sardar and Archana Puran Singh in a pan masala chewing Mataji mode, portray the duo's immediate family ready to screech and squabble at the top of their lungs.
There's also Vijay Raaz's bungling cop besotted by Mallika, sporting a horrid wig and playing horrible boss to his exasperated subordinates, Mukesh Tiwari's neighbourhood patron for community weddings in Kulu caps and kani shawls and Ashwini Kalsekar's gothic gangster guru flanked by a pair of Suniel Shetty clones.
Quite like Bad Newz, Vicky and Vidya's wedding revelry cuts to saat pheras and a honeymoon far from the madding crowd.
Only instead of becoming pregnant with two babies, it's the theft of the CD containing their intimate footage that triggers panic buttons, little white lies and a larger scam at play.
Between tons of sexual innuendo and Kapil Sharma brand of slapstick gags characterised in loud caricatures, moronic behaviour, flimsy wigs and cartoonish rhythm, Vicky Vidya Ka Woh Wala Video's jarring notions of exuberance have nothing novel to offer.
Cross connection conversations are such an extinct trope -- when one party admits to their folly while the other feels sorry over something else and they both assume they are talking about the same thing ensuing in a cliched comedy of errors.
Most unfortunate though is the contrived manner in which Rao's Stree 2 success is shamelessly evoked for a dummy gag that bares the lack of imagination at work.
Among its recurring jokes is a perennially aroused housemaid's advancements and rejection, aphrodisiac fuelled libido of old and young and a done-to-death reiteration of a lumbering loser serenading a hottie out of his league.
Alright so the makers have access to 1990s chartbusters and want to dumb them down for parodical purposes by turning Vijay Raaz and Mallika Sherawat into lovesick fools or showcase Shehnaz Gill's glamour and Daler Mehndi's gusto in needless song and dance sequences.
But the timing is off and its tries-too-hard spirit lacks the spontaneity of Ayushmann Khurrana-era supremacy in the nostalgic space.
For what it's worth, Rajkummar Rao humanises a character who would appear a lot more sleazy if played by another actor.
But he also looks awfully worn out, the Vicky fatigue is slowly but surely kicking in.
Tripti is a spunky presence, but is yet to recognise her worth beyond the sizzle factor.
Although she's portrayed a lot less provocatively in this small-town spectacle, there's nothing significant other-ish in this medley of Stree, lies and videotape, which ends on a melodramatic note with sermons on women's izzat, men's voyeurism and potential sequels.
