2 States Review: 4 things that the filmmakers have no clue about

Warning: The post below contains a few spoilers Despite its middling trailer, I had been looking forward to the release of 2 States for two reasons. The first was the fact that we now live in a post-Highway world, and the name Alia Bhatt can no longer be used as a punch-line; it is now an asset, and I couldn’t wait to see how she’d handle this role. The second was that despite this being an adaptation of a mediocre, semi-autobiographical Chetan Bhagat novel of the same name (which, admittedly, I have read – in my defence, it was a long flight), I quite liked Kai Po Che, which was an adaptation of his book The 3 Mistakes Of My Life. What worked about that film, which continues to be the best filmed adaptation of any Bhagat novel (that’s right, lovers of the massively overrated 3 Idiots) is that it mixed cinematic moments with largely accurate characterisation throughout, even though it was limited by certain Bollywood movie constraints. It was faithful to its setup, its characters and its setting, and handled a difficult subject with a satisfactory amount of finesse. 2 States, however, has none of the nuances I was hoping to see in a story that is familiar – marrying across the great cultural divide of the north and the south – and yet always relevant as well as bursting with possibilities. What could’ve been a truly engaging and witty look at a clash of sensibilities turns out to be a typically superficial Bollywood ‘entertainer’. Written and directed by first-timer Abhishek Varman, who has previously assisted on Jodhaa Akbar and My Name Is Khan, it pays such little attention to detail that one is forced to conclude that the makers spent much of the shooting schedule under a very large rock. For instance: [caption id=“attachment_1486073” align=“alignleft” width=“380”] Alia Bhatt and Arjun Kapoor in 2 States.[/caption] 1) They have no idea what IIM Ahmedabad is like, despite having shot there Having obtained permission to use the premises and the brand name of India’s top B-school, the makers proceed to treat it like any other filmi college, complete with choreographed numbers, students who double up as back-up dancers; as well as OTT Holi, dandiya and Christmas celebrations (with fake snow!). This is the setting in which Krish Malhotra (Arjun Kapoor, looking like a droopy-eyed G Khamba), meets and falls in love with Ananya Swaminathan (Bhatt, still a breath of fresh air); a college that, in reality, lakhs of students would kill to get into, given their high standards of education and obscene pay-packages. But Bollywood is clearly not impressed, and therefore neither are the characters’ parents. Krish’s mother (played by Kirr—I mean, Amrita Singh) constantly inquires about why he has chosen to play truant and move to a ‘vegetarian state’ while Ananya declares that she came there to “run away” from her orthodox family. When placements roll around, Ananya says that she “mostly” wants to “do marketing” (show me an IIM-grad who speaks in terms other than company names or starting salaries) while Krish confidently tells the recruitment guy from Yes Bank (!) that he wants to join them because they’re “the best”. Meanwhile, Ananya takes up a job at Sunsilk (!!) for the princely starting salary of Rs 50,000 per month (!!!). (Cue: Sound of MBA degree holders across India laughing and groaning at the same time) 2) They have no idea who their characters are supposed to be Ananya is a typically overachieving Tam-Brahm girl who, we’re told, is an economics topper, but she needs an engineering grad’s help in the subject. She breaks tradition and indulges in vices, ordering tandoori chicken and beer on their first date, but is unaware that Gujarat is a dry state. She is headstrong and independent, in the vein of most of Bhagat’s MPDG-like female characters, but apparently unable to even choose which city she wants to work in. Similarly, Krish, the whiniest Punjabi guy you’ve never met, is a confusing mixture of male chauvinist pig, mama’s boy and spineless loser. An IIT-IIM combo pass-out with such low self-esteem and poor decision-making skills? Is this because his cubicle at Yes Bank is really small, by any chance? Then there are other misfires, such as Shiv Subramanyam as Ananya’s father, a bank employee who doesn’t know the word ‘Powerpoint’, and Ronit Roy (playing an extension of his character in Udaan) as Krish’s estranged father, who is shown to be irredeemably nasty until he has a deus-ex-machina-esque change of heart. 3) They don’t understand how confrontations occur The great Indian middle-class is not subtle about its prejudices per se, but there is a sense of propriety and decorum everybody tries to maintain for the sake of avoiding conflict. A scene at the IIM-A convocation, where the parents meet for the first time, rings false as it shows open and intense dislike between the two parties right away. There is no acknowledgement of their genteel environment, nor any attempt made to maintain the veneer of politeness. Two minutes into the scene, Ananya’s mother (Revathy, a saving grace) calls her counterpart ‘uncultured’, sparking off the conflict in this love story. This also happens in scenes where Krish is dealing with his father, sometimes treating him like pure evil, and sometimes as an inconvenience. A flashback shows him standing up successfully to his father’s rage while he was in college; yet, he seems petrified while trying to convince him or his mother to accept the love of his life even though he is now older and financially independent. 4) They don’t seem to get how modern relationships work Ananya and Krish practically live with each other for two years in IIM-A. They then get separated for a few months as they go back home to Chennai and Delhi, respectively. Much talking on the phone ensues (including an allusion to phone sex), following which Krish takes the plunge, moves to Chennai and gets a fancy pad with a swimming pool. You’d think that the first thing they’d do is make sure they get in a room and spend some quality time with each other. But no, the first thing she does is play ‘Meet the parents’ with him, by inviting him over and not informing her parents till the last minute (riling them up further). Then, after Krish swings and misses a few times with them, instead of chilling at his awesome apartment and figuring out the situation, she gets him to come over regularly to coach her younger brother for the IIT-JEE and take awkward rides back home with her father, instead of just taking a rickshaw like anyone else would’ve. Seriously, how badly does Yes Bank pay? Other times, it seems like the pair don’t know each other at all. Example: In one scene, they both discover, after two years of dating, that both of them don’t know how to cook. It doesn’t help that the chemistry between Bhatt and Kapoor is largely tepid, mostly because of the latter’s tedious, one-note performance. Put simply, 2 States is as much an accurate representation of IIM-A as Legally Blonde was of Harvard University, and as much an accurate look at relationships as, well, not even a Chetan Bhagat novel. As forgettable as the book was, it gets more of the detailing right and possesses a stronger, more authentic narrative. Consequently, 2 States ends up adhering to the established rule of the book being better than the movie. Exactly the opposite of what anyone was hoping for, of course.