Recently, at a talk show with a group of comedians, veteran lyricist and screenwriter Javed Akhtar said that he doesn’t watch his own films. “I don’t want to be that guy,” he says. “The one whose house people visit only to return and say, ‘He was great once upon a time. How sad; now he keeps rewatching his old films!’” Yo Yo Honey Singh: Famous, a new documentary on the rise and fall of the controversial singer-rapper, evokes a similar feeling of visiting a once-famous artist. It tries to get you nostalgic, but all you feel is pity.
The subject held a lot of promise. For most millennials, Honey Singh was the gateway to rap music. His songs, although vulgar, problematic, and misogynistic, were catchy. The documentary, however, only skims the surface of the man’s personality. We never explore what made him write and sing songs promoting aggressive capitalism and womanizing. It seems like a commissioned product—a companion piece for the singer’s promised comeback.
Directed by: Mozez Singh
Streaming on: Netflix
The documentary begins predictably. We see VCR visuals of a young Honey Singh as he puts a CD into a stereo. His voiceover amps up the rags-to-riches narrative: “I am not a son of a musician, a music director, or a singer.” His sister continues, “I knew he was going to do something big, but I had no idea he would be…Yo Yo Honey Singh.”
Oftentimes, the documentary borders on parody. While creating the chorus for a Salman Khan song titled ‘Twinkle Twinkle,’ Honey and his team unironically come up with lyrics that translate to, “I am your Nobita; you are my Shizuka.” Director Mozez Singh shoots more of a home video out of bonhomie than an investigative piece. In one sequence, Honey blatantly denies being a part of crude songs like ‘Balaatkaari’ and ‘C**** Volume:1,’ which actually catapulted him to fame, and the director takes it at face value. Most contentious topics, like the rapper’s drug addiction or a domestic abuse case against him, are merely mentioned and never explored.
The documentary also feels rushed. Like going over bullet points, it speeds through Honey’s life linearly, never pausing to ponder. It becomes predictable and gives you nothing more than a news compilation. There are some nice details, though, like Honey’s childhood home not having any windows (“But I still had dreams”) or his friend and manager Rohit Chhabra reminiscing about their childhood and times of aimlessness. However, these scenes depicting life as it is are often blotted by vanity. A “superfan” interrupts a soft moment where Honey and Rohit are roaming around their neighbourhood. It feels inorganic and staged.
Yo Yo Honey Singh: Famous often feels like a redemption montage in a sports film, stretched to a runtime of one and a half hours. Honey is seen more in the gym than in the recording studio, more concerned about how his fans perceive him than how he views himself as an artist. His artistic choices dangle between “what people want” and “what works.” His drug use is mentioned once, and his struggles with mental health are depicted by showing jarring, run-of-the-mill visuals. We don’t get a holistic view of the time and cultural space Honey Singh was a product of. There is no mention of the feud between him and Badshah, and the documentary often seems like an answer to all those who are “trying to tarnish” his image. More candid was a Lallantop interview, in which the rapper dissed his chartbuster ‘Sunny Sunny.’ “Is this even a song?” he says. “Today, the water is blue, and the day is sunny. Are these even lyrics? It’s all nonsense…but the public is still losing their minds.”