A done-to-death sibling rivalry saga, misplaced faith in writer Kanika Dhillon, wrong casting of Kajol, Shaheer Sheikh, and yet another below-par performance herself—Kriti Sanon gets it all wrong in her maiden production.
Rating: ⭐️ (1 / 5)
By Mayur Lookhar
Recently transferred to Dharampur, Inspector Vidya Jyoti (Kajol) meets her senior, who subtly reminds her that one shouldn’t be so rigid like straight trees and must learn to bend when the wind is strong. VJ quickly tells her boss, “Sir, if the slightest breeze bends it, then they aren’t straight trees in the first place.” VJ is a stickler for rules. Before heading to meet her boss, a conversation is held with her subordinate (played by Brijendra Kala), who expresses shock that this lady didn’t even spare her brother, who was convicted in a criminal case. “Madame, but family is family”, he says. She replies, “Law is law.”
Growing up, law was an integral part of VJ’s life. Her father was a judge who strictly adhered to the law book, while her mother was a lawyer who believed rule books are no good if there is no justice. VJ claims that this is why her parents never got along well. But can that really be a cause of division between a couple? With parents in the judiciary and a daughter as a cop, there was no way this family could defend their convict son/brother.
Well, Jyoti’s family gets only a passing mention, but what is staring her in the face is the tale of twins Saumya and Shellee (both played by Kriti Sanon). From the time they were eight years old, Shellee has disliked her sister. Their mother’s early passing has affected them differently. In the present day, Saumya has filed a case of domestic abuse against her husband, Dhruv Sood (Shaheer Sheikh). However, she doesn’t seem to have the backing of her twin sister. The dynamic between this trio is strange, with the man’s affection for the twins swinging like a pendulum.
Twins falling for the same guy or girl is not a novel concept. Years ago, Samir Ganguly’s Sharmeelee (1971) explored something similar. In 2005, Neha Dhupia took on a twin role where Sonu Sood fell for the siblings. Perhaps the earliest depiction of such a sibling rivalry saga date back to 1946 in filmmaker Paul Henreid’s Stolen Life, which starred Bette Davis in twin roles.
While there can never be copyright over the tale of twins, Kanika Dhillon’s frailties as a writer are laid bare once again. Her cinema is often dubbed as woke, where drinking, smoking, sex, and infidelity are passed off as liberal. Kedarnath (2018) was an exception, but that film was helmed by the dependable Abhishek Kapoor. Dhillon penned Manmarziyaan (2018) was directed by Anurag Kashyap, but the complex relationship saga was marred by feminazi tropes, making it a poor ode to the love story of Amrita Pritam and Sahir Ludhianvi. Given the complex nature of their relationships, ode is never the right term when infidelity is involved.
How does one view the complex relationships in Do Patti? If Dhruv’s feelings for the twins oscillate like a pendulum, hasn’t Dhillon reduced both Saumya and Shellee to mere objects of desire? Dhillon herself doesn’t do justice to her sibling characters. The reticent, submissive Saumya is the quintessential good girl, while the bold, selfish, smoking, and drinking Shellee is viewed as the bad girl. While such perceptions still exist, haven’t we had enough of these characters?
No novelty in the story, poorly scripted characters, and a wafer-thin screenplay seriously make you question the long rope that Kanika Dhillon has been given in the film industry. Jeez, Dhillon even errs with the title, which leaves no suspense whatsoever. The only thing Do Patti has going for it is the larger social message—say no to domestic violence and never ignore mental health. However, a mere idea doesn’t translate to a good film. Dhillon has sold Kriti Sanon and Netflix a dummy.
After a few bright performances early in her career, Kriti Sanon has failed to live up to the hype. Honestly, even her National Award for Mimi (2021) is still debatable. This reviewer was impressed by her underrated performance in Bhediya (2022), but Bachchhan Paanday, Adipurush (2023), and Shehzada (2023) were total disasters. While Sanon the brand, particularly her business ventures, are on the rise, there is evidently a lack of passion in her acting. Do Patti is another example of this prolonged loss of form. There is also the question of poor choices. As a first-time producer, Kriti Sanon will have to take the blame for greenlighting this silly Do Patti story. Perhaps that’s a bit too harsh, but the painful experience of watching Do Patti compels us to say that Kanika Dhillon’s Midas curse has struck Kriti Sanon.
There is no excuse for Kajol’s terrible performance. As a seasoned actor, it can be tough to find good films or roles by the dozen. However, Kajol hasn’t adapted much to modern tastes in this second phase of her career. Vidya Jyoti’s family story is hardly believable, but what seriously undermines Do Patti is the fake, cringe-worthy Northern accent. It’s baffling that neither Dhillon, her director, nor Sanon raised a red flag when Kajol filmed her first scene with this accent. Given that Kajol occupies a sizable chunk of the first 15 minutes of the film, many viewers are likely to be put off. Sanon’s twin avatars only take center stage from around the 20-minute mark, thus sparing us from Kajol’s hammy performance.
As the cop probing the alleged domestic violence case, she ought to return. In the courtroom, the audience receives two jolts: first, when cop VJ shows up as Miss Kanwar to represent her client Saumya. Can an investigative officer serve as a legal representative for a victim in the same case? For a moment, we wonder whether Miss Kanwar is Vidya Jyoti’s twin or her lawyer mother. A few days after the verdict is delivered, we see Kajol as a cop again. Another bizarre aspect is how Kajol’s cringe-worthy Northern accent disappears when lawyer Kanwar presents her arguments. The abysmal courtroom drama and Kajol’s atrocious performance warrant serious criticism.
It is fine for an actor to step out of the comfort zone and give his fans a unique experience. Do Patti sees the TV heartthrob break free from his chocolate boy image. Make no bones about it, Sheikh is extremely popular, but how does he fare as an actor? We watch him for the first time, and he largely disappoints. There are two sides to Dhruv: first, that of a mellow guy who charms the twins in Uttarakhand. The darker shades, however, reveal an aggressive, abusive Haryanvi. While the tone and body language are aggressive, the performance lacks conviction. It’s shocking how Dhruv and his lawyer engage in misogynistic conversations in the presence of a female judge. For a lawyer to undermine domestic violence as “ghar ki baat” in court sends a bad message. Thankfully, this is not an OTT release, as people in Haryana wouldn’t take kindly to their stereotyping. Shaheer has screen presence, but as a film actor, he has miles to go. It raises questions about his casting, especially since producer Kriti Sanon proudly claimed that she auditioned with the final ten actors before finalising Shaheer as her Dhruv. Is it merely a coincidence that he bagged this role since his wife, Ruchika Kapoor, took over as Director of Original Films at Netflix India? However, with Kriti herself selecting Sheikh, the producer will have to face flak here as well.
It’s rare not to mention a director until now, but would Shashanka Chaturvedi want to remember his poor directorial debut? He was conspicuously absent from the trailer launch, with Kanika & co. attributing it to prior commitments. However, to our knowledge, Chaturvedi wasn’t seen in the select film interviews either. One wonders if the director was truly in control of his film. Speculation aside, Do Patti certainly doesn’t speak highly of him as a director.
The Netflix film draws attention to domestic violence and mental health, but the manner of its fight will divide opinions. It leaves Vidya Jyoti confused: “When truth and evidence collide, what should one do?” questions the cop. There is no confusion, though, in our critique of Do Patti. OTT platforms don’t share their viewership, and strong PR machines will work overtime to sing their praises, but this is unlikely to bend the straight trees.
