Bawaal review – redemption romcom in spectacularly poor taste | Film

Much of this almost wondrously misjudged Bollywood film is perfectly palatable: the tale of a limited man redeemed by his far superior wife. Varun Dhawan plays Ajay, a history teacher who is fixated on projecting the impression that he is a tough cookie with a perfect life. His pupils are in his thrall, and allow him to doss in lessons rather than teach them; everyone in his city (Lucknow in northern India) seems to have bought into the myth, too. One person who hasn’t, however, is his new wife Nisha (Janhvi Kapoor), whom Ajay resents because she has epilepsy.

When Ajay loses his cool at school one day, he slaps a pupil, unaware that the whippersnapper is the son of a legislator. Ajay had been due to teach his class about the second world war, but with his job in jeopardy, he decides to visit Europe and send his pupils videos of himself giving history lessons in key places where the war unfolded. He initially tries to force Nisha to stay behind – naturally, he doesn’t like her leaving the house because he’s scared she will have a seizure and embarrass him – but she comes along anyway and slowly they fall in love.

Kapoor gives a still, mature performance as Nisha, and Dhawan is believable – perhaps too believable – as a cretin of the highest order. You never accept their connection, but harder to swallow is the way the darkest chapter in European history is repeatedly used to chivvy their romance along. When they go to Auschwitz, a survivor (an actor) tearfully assures them that “every relationship” goes through its own Auschwitz (does it?); later, the lovers visit a gas chamber and end up in striped uniforms. The scene is so mind-bogglingly vapid it’s hard to watch.

Western films have pulled this sort of stunt before, of course, with other countries’ histories, so it’s an education of sorts to see it done in reverse. It is just a pity that rest of the film is so lacking in fun, pep, humour and charm that only its spectacularly poor taste stands out.

Much of this almost wondrously misjudged Bollywood film is perfectly palatable: the tale of a limited man redeemed by his far superior wife. Varun Dhawan plays Ajay, a history teacher who is fixated on projecting the impression that he is a tough cookie with a perfect life. His pupils are in his thrall, and allow him to doss in lessons rather than teach them; everyone in his city (Lucknow in northern India) seems to have bought into the myth, too. One person who hasn’t, however, is his new wife Nisha (Janhvi Kapoor), whom Ajay resents because she has epilepsy.

When Ajay loses his cool at school one day, he slaps a pupil, unaware that the whippersnapper is the son of a legislator. Ajay had been due to teach his class about the second world war, but with his job in jeopardy, he decides to visit Europe and send his pupils videos of himself giving history lessons in key places where the war unfolded. He initially tries to force Nisha to stay behind – naturally, he doesn’t like her leaving the house because he’s scared she will have a seizure and embarrass him – but she comes along anyway and slowly they fall in love.

Kapoor gives a still, mature performance as Nisha, and Dhawan is believable – perhaps too believable – as a cretin of the highest order. You never accept their connection, but harder to swallow is the way the darkest chapter in European history is repeatedly used to chivvy their romance along. When they go to Auschwitz, a survivor (an actor) tearfully assures them that “every relationship” goes through its own Auschwitz (does it?); later, the lovers visit a gas chamber and end up in striped uniforms. The scene is so mind-bogglingly vapid it’s hard to watch.

Western films have pulled this sort of stunt before, of course, with other countries’ histories, so it’s an education of sorts to see it done in reverse. It is just a pity that rest of the film is so lacking in fun, pep, humour and charm that only its spectacularly poor taste stands out.