Do
Patti
collapses
like
a
house
of
cards
when
it
aims
to
be
clever,
notes
Sukanya
Verma.
Dressed
in
the
exact
same
attire
as
her
newly
wedded
sister
at
her
reception,
the
lookalike
twin
poses
right
next
to
the
bride
and
groom
as
if
fulfilling
Bollywood’s
bawdy
fantasy
of
saali
aadhi
gharwali
in
a
tasteless,
thunder-stealing
move.
It’s
a
rare
tantalising
moment
in
a
pile
of
trite
twists
and
turns
where
Do
Patti,
directed
by
Shashanka
Chaturvedi,
gives
in
to
its
basest
impulses
but
collapses
like
a
house
of
cards
when
it
aims
to
be
clever,
or
worse
still,
a
crusader.
Credited
for
its
story,
screenplay
and
dialogues,
Kanika
Dhillon
cannot
tell
her
femme
fatale
from
her
feminist
in
her
increasingly
formulaic
vision,
split
between
ambiguous
motives,
unhinged
interactions
and
stagy
big
reveals.
Always
seeking
an
element
of
danger
through
her
precarious
protagonists
and
their
unhealthy
preoccupation
for
toxic
relationships,
Dhillon’s
women
are
either
rebelling
or
recoiling.
Do
Patti
is
a
showcase
of
those
limitations.
Repackaging
the
premise
of
sisters
rivalling
for
the
affection
of
the
same
guy
into
a
thriller
about
identical
twins,
as
different
as
chalk
and
cheese,
navigating
hate
and
a
history
of
violence,
Do
Patti‘s
potential
is
marred
by
scatterbrained
writing.
Saumya
and
Shailee,
played
by
Kriti
Sanon,
stir
the
peace
of
a
sleepy
hill
station
in
North
India
when
the
escalating
tension
between
them
catches
the
curiosity
of
a
sincere
cop
(Kajol),
wanting
to
be
taken
seriously
by
her
male
bosses.
What
looks
like
a
catfight
over
Saumya’s
husband
and
Shailee’s
ex,
Dhruv
Sood
(Shaheer
Sheikh
is
a
picture
of
hammy
outbursts
and
seedy
charm),
a
powerful
minister’s
brash
businessman
son
has
its
roots
in
events
from
the
twain’s
childhood,
resulting
in
one’s
depression
and
another’s
defiance.
The
backstory
is
the
big
reveal
and
its
investigation
kickstarts
after
a
paragliding
accident
is
believed
to
be
an
attempt
to
murder.
Withholding
information
can
be
a
smart
move
but
in
the
absence
of
buildup,
it
feels
like
a
lazy
trope
to
justify
actions
triggered
by
generational
trauma,
something
Dhillon’s
Judgementall
Hai
Kya
(it
feels
like
a
lazy
trope)
achieved
imaginatively.
Do
Patti‘s
lack
of
inspiration
shows
in
how
tamely
it
introduces
its
characters.
There’s
not
even
a
shred
of
authenticity
in
the
milieu,
save
for
Saumya’s
winter
red
snow
every
now
and
then
in
a
scenario
saddled
by
Anurag
Saikia’s
hyper,
overworked
background
music.
You’d
think
there’s
some
quirk
in
Kajol
raising
a
pet
bunny;
there’s
none.
He’s
as
sporadic
as
Saumya’s
dance
teacher
or
Dhruv’s
influential
daddy.
There’s
Vivek
Mushran
too
as
Saumya-Shailee’s
uncle
doing
nothing
except
staying
mum.
AWOL
existence
is
not
its
only
crime.
The
reasoning
behind
Saumya
and
Shailee’s
animosity
is
as
piddly
as
is
its
sudden
turnabout.
Do
Patti
struggles
to
give
substance
to
their
conflict
and
contrasts.
Even
when
we
come
to
see
there’s
more
than
meets
the
eye,
the
lack
of
conviction
is
appalling.
Despite
the
odds,
Kriti
Sanon’s
smooth
balancing
act
is
the
saving
grace
of
her
maiden
co-production
with
Kanika
Dhillon,
as
she
goes
from
one
extreme
to
another
playing
both
naughty
and
nice.
There’s
a
relaxed
relish
in
her
behaviour,
which
sets
her
apart
from
her
effective
neurotic
counterpart.
Her
adventurous
artistry
deserved
a
better
outlet
than
Do
Patti.
On
paper,
Kajol’s
spunk
is
ideal
for
the
robust,
small-town
cop,
but
her
fake,
fumbling
accent
and
wishy-washy
characterisation
as
she
looks
for
a
middle
ground
between
maverick
and
moral
is
completely
off
the
mark.
Juggling
back
and
forth
as
a
cop
and
lawyer,
it’s
no
different
from
Johnny
Lever
showing
up
in
various
avatars
in
mindless
comedies
of
back
in
the
day.
Tanvi
Azmi
—
as
the
concerned
mother-figure
of
these
warring
twins
—
guzzling
down
a
shot
of
alcohol
before
sharing
their
story
to
Kajol,
is
an
unintentionally
hilarious
indication
of
how
absurd
the
yarn
is.
A
hot-headed
dude
yo-yos
between
the
siblings,
yet
neither
is
averse
to
being
used
or
using
him
as
long
as
it
serves
their
purpose
of
settling
scores.
Between
Saumya’s
masochistic
sufferer
craving
motherhood
and
Shailee’s
idea
of
agency
being
Dhruv’s
on
and
off
thing,
their
hollow
fight
for
supremacy
makes
Do
Patti
a
hard
sell
for
the
justice-seeking
it
has
in
mind.
Sizzle
and
serious
make
for
a
deadly
combination
when
done
intelligently,
but
Do
Patti‘s
clumsy
depiction
of
courtroom
drama,
what
with
the
accused
openly
threatening
and
admitting
to
his
father’s
felonies
in
front
of
the
judge,
or
a
lawyer
reopening
a
case
or
calling
it
off
on
whim
without
consequences,
Dhillon’s
cinema
could
do
with
some
reality
check.
For
all
its
contemporary
edge
and
desire
to
address
spousal
abuse,
Dhillon’s
storytelling
stinks
of
out-dated
sensibilities
and
their
perverse
ideas
of
reconciliation
—
be
it
the
simple
twin
scoring
over
the
sassy
one
as
wife
material
in
Sharmeelee,
jilted
cousin
seducing
her
lustful
jijaji
behind
her
indisposed
sister’s
back
in
Aakhir
Kyon?
Or
competitive
big
sister
looking
to
reignite
her
relations
with
old
flame
turned
brother-in-law
much
to
her
sissy
sibling’s
dismay
in
Aaina.
Dysfunctionality
triggered
by
scarred
childhood
is
a
valid
point
but
doesn’t
find
an
active
voice
in
Do
Patti‘s
half-baked
diabolism,
which
needed
to
be
more
Dead
Ringers
than
The
Parent
Trap.
Do
Patti
streams
on
Netflix.
Do
Patti
Review
Rediff
Rating:
