This Dhak Dhak Lacks Rhythm, Tempo and Volume

Cast: Ratna Pathak Shah, Fatima Sana Sheikh, Dia Mirza, Sanjana Sanghi, Nishak Verma, Hridhay Malhotra

Direction: Tarun Dudeja

A road film can often tend to be monotonous, largely attributable to a certain travel monotony and is, thus, intrinsically challenged. Filmmakers take this route, and to the road, at their own risk.

An old ploy is to keep the narrative on the road and to buttress it with an emotive connection happening outside of the road journey. Sooraj Bharjatiya did a great job of that in ‘Unchaeye’. Unfortunately, when it comes to ‘Dhak Dhak’, the journey doesn't take off briskly. Construction-wise too, there are too many roadblocks for the kick-start of the journey and fatigue sets in even before the journey begins.

Also, a road film that threatens to be a musical with the narrative turning lyrical is obviously non-workable. But, this also could be because of the standard of contemporary composers. The songs constantly give heavy-duty messages. The lyrical content, sometimes, comes with the halo of a Sahir or a Gulzar, but their renditions leave much to be desired. Monotonous screaming backdrop songs are a poor design to push the envelope.

Tarun Dudeja starts with a narrative designed to speak of women's empowerment. So, we have an aged Manpreet Kaur Singh aka Mahi (Ratna Pathak Shah) who wins a mobike at a lucky draw and joins Sky (Fatima Sana Sheikh) on a road trip to Khardung La, which is 18,380 feet above sea level. Also joining the group is a sheltered rich girl Manjari (Sanjana Sanghi) and a hesitant burqa-clad Uzma (Dia Mirza).

The fiercely independent Mahi, the aggressive Sky, the modest Uzam and the hesitant Manjari constitute a chalk-and-cheese ensemble on the road trip.

While Mahi lives in the shadow of a family that is insensitive to her solitary existence, Sky is hurt at her nude pictures going public at the instance of her boyfriend Shrey (Nishak Verma). She is a slave to psychotropic medicines and has broken her professional partnership with him. She badly needs Project Barcelona Expo, and her boss Nishant Kakkar (Hridhay Malhotra) is in no mood to hand it over on a platter. This is when she embarks on doing a travel vlog and involves Mahi, Uzma, and Manjuri.

Rum is not a liquor, it is an emotion, says the septuagenarian; to me, the mountain no longer looks beautiful; my eyes are filled with specks of dust laying the roads. It is not about being. It is about identity; one incident does not change life, it takes time; sometimes in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself.

These profound statements in a film that starts justifiably but apologetically like a poor man's ‘Toilet - Ek Prem Katha’. The problem with the journey is that the foursome takes too long to cuddle up and enjoy even a functional camaraderie. It is after the incident that the 130-minute-long film takes shape, speed and garners purpose. Once it does, the bikes develop a certain narrative smoothness, albeit on rough and challenging terrain.

When an incident at a restaurant throws a storm in the teacup, the challenges get sharper. Sky leaves the group defeated and rejected, altitude gets the better of Mahi's attitude, and Uzma and Manjari are caught in the tracks of domestic challenges. The film throws a quintessential metaphysical question: Is the journey important or the goal?

The answer appears to be: It is neither, it is companionship.

Performances vary from a consistently brilliant Ratna Pathak Shah to a disappointing Dia Mirza. Sanjana Sanghi literally looks lost in the script and on the road, but she sure has an honest appeal. Fatima Sana Sheikh lacks consistency, sometimes over the top, and sometimes, failing to deliver; like a road journey, her performance is moody and unpredictable.

This all in more you get to watch. A film that could have been far better made and promoted is a lost cause. Women's empowerment paradoxically takes a beating. In the final moments, Mahi says: “Dil mera pehle bhi dhadka par aaj suna maine uski dhakdhak (this is the first time I've felt my heart beat).”

This ‘Dhak Dhak’ lacks tempo, rhythm and volume. It's a journey on a very unpredictable trail.