Rahu Ketu Movie Review: A wacky, out-of-control ride with no captain

It’s almost ironic that one of the many subplots that Rahu Ketu, the latest comedy directed by Vipul Vig, explores is about the rampant drug culture in Himachal Pradesh — I call it ironic because watching Rahu Ketu unfold often feels trippy, and I don’t mean that in a complimentary way. 

In the wacky comedy, Pulkit Samrat and Varun Sharma play Rahu and Ketu, two goofy misfits who bring a stroke of misfortune to everything they cross paths with. An entire town is borderline-terrified of their presence. Rahu-Ketu eventually meet Meenu Taxi (Shalini Pandey), a streetsmart and ambitious young woman who unwittingly finds a local druglord baying for her blood and must escape his wrath. How the paths of Rahu-Ketu and Meenu keep intertwining as Meenu attempts to stay out of danger and Rahu-Ketu go about their mission of making their state corruption-free forms the crux of the story.

Cast: Pulkit Samrat, Varun Sharma, Shalini Pandey, Chunky Panday, Piyush Mishra, Sumit Gulati

Director: Vipul Vig

There’s also a small magic-realism twist to the tale here — Rahu and Ketu are figments of a writer’s imagination who controls their destiny, while being perplexed by the direction his story keeps taking. There is a consistent sense of silliness to the proceedings. In the hands of a better writer-director, one can see this set of ideas blooming into an enjoyable comedy. However, Vipul Vig falls short of the expectations here. The filmmaker incorporates every little idea or punchline he found amusing, hoping to make sense of the rambling screenplay eventually. He doesn’t. While the film largely stays true to its goofy spirit, it fails in converting its irreverence to genuinely funny sequences. 

There are a few moments with accurate landing though. Chunky Pandey speaking accented English while playing an Israeli druglord, or Piyush Mishra in a delightfully self-parodying mode straight out of his Tamasha role — these moments, while inconsistent in their laughs, work as a reminder of how little seriously the film is taking itself. But then a schmlatzy scene appears out of nowhere where a corrupt cop (An enjoyable Amit Sial) falls to his knees, guilt-ridden and apologetic to his family for having strayed off the righteous path. Another similar sequence arrives where, amidst a bombardment of punchline-driven humour, we are suddenly told (read instructed) to feel melancholy for our two protagonists, currently dealing with a rough phase, as they reminisce about the good old times. Is there an intent to deliver a message? Yes. Are we expected to take the film lightly? Yes. Are there too many things happening at once? Also, yes. Despite its share of absurdity and kooky humour, it only becomes clear that Rahu Ketu has little idea how to maintain a sense of tonality or coherence. 

You can sense Varun Sharma going the extra mile with his physical comedy and body language, desperately trying to make up for the lack of narrative energy. Pulkit Samrat, in comparison, appears largely clueless how to approach his role.  Shalini Pandey gets an interesting part— In a world where most creators of stories are men, Meenu Taxi steals a way to temporarily write her own story, even if it means landing other men in trouble — but Vipul Vig doesn’t know how to take the interesting germ of an idea to a satisfactory juncture.  

As the narrative completely tumbles in the final half an hour, you try your best to hang on to slivers of irreverence. That one line from Manu Rishi Chadha about how most corruption comes from those sitting in power. Or Meenu Taxi’s conversation with Bansi about forming an alliance and enjoying the fruits like ‘pradhan mantri and grih mantri.’ I chuckled. Someone is still allowed to try. 

However, what definitely hurts the chances of Rahu Ketu is its overconfidence in the potency of its humour. In a self-mirroring scene, Rahu and Ketu crack a series of bad jokes to a couple of policemen, laughing their heads off while the cops look on, unamused. It’s very emblematic of the audience’s relationship with the film itself — while the jokes continue to fall flat, the film struts forward with a bizarre sense of gusto, completely confident that it’s lunacy is landing in all the right places. 

My fears were confirmed in the closing credits — the makers express a desire for a sequel, where we will continue to follow the cat-and-mouse chase between Rahu-Ketu and Meenu. It must take immense confidence to think that audience wants to see more of this universe. I want some of this confidence.