Dir: Homi Adajania. Cast: Saif Ali Khan, Deepika
Padukone, Diana Penty, Boman Irani, Dimple Kapadia.
Cocktail dangles before its audience the prospect of seeing
three leads in a living arrangement that’s best described by a phrase that
begins with “ménage” and ends with “trois”. It’s never happened before, but if
it had to, it would probably be in the year with the film about the sperm
donor, and the other one with the catchphrase “keh ke loonga”. One might reasonably
expect, in this bold new age of Hindi cinema, a man and two women to live under
the same roof, and share and share alike.
Cocktail certainly starts mixing it up quickly. Gautam
(Saif Ali Khan) hits on Meera (Diana Penty) at the London airport, unaware that
she’s married. A few minutes later, she isn’t – her new husband Kunal (Randeep
Hooda) leaves her to fend for herself, citing plot exigencies. She goes to the
restroom for a good cry, where she meets Veronica (Deepika Padukone), who
invites her to stay in her flat. This is accomplished in roughly ten minutes.
It takes another ten for the two women to spot Gautam, play a prank on him,
bump into him again at a party (apparently Indians in London keep crossing
paths), and for Veronica and Gautam to hook up. Gautam ends up moving in with
them, and though Meera hates his guts, one can’t help feeling that a home-grown
Jules and Jim might be on the cards.
A predictable surprise visit by
Gautam’s mother (Dimple Kapadia) has him lying about his plans to marry Meera.
Surprisingly, Meera goes along with this charade; Veronica, amused by their
predicament, has no problems either. The quartet, plus Gautam’s sympathetic
uncle (Boman Irani), repair to Cape Town, where things get nicely out of hand
when Gautam and Meera fall for each other. This is the point at which the film
needed to decide whether it would take the road hinted at, or the road
well-travelled. Disappointingly, it opts for the latter. Veronica is informed
that she’s the third wheel now – she’s fine with that, but only until she
breaks down in a club in the next scene. Meera, upset for having come between them,
leaves Gautam, Veronica and the flat, and disappears. The rest is contrivance,
tears, a diluted version of the mesmeric Coke
Studio Pakistan track “Jugni”, and a trip back home.
Those who remember Adajania’s first film, 2006’s Being Cyrus, will be struck by how different Cocktail is. Cyrus was
dank, claustrophobic, cynical; Cocktail,
for a while at least, is sunny and sensuous. Khan plays yet another wisecracking,
shallow, essentially harmless flirt, but no one can sell a bad joke like he
can. Padukone looks supremely relaxed in the first half as the straight-shooting, pants-shunning
Veronica, while debutante Penty manages to keep Meera from becoming a sacrificing
bore. Adajania and veteran editor Sreekar Prasad, working from a screenplay by
Imtiaz Ali and Sajid Ali, keep things zipping along, even though after a point they
don’t go anywhere we haven’t been before.
A version of this review appeared in Time Out Delhi.
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