Khushi
fares
better
in
emotional
scenes
but
her
chemistry
with
Junaid
has
the
passion
of
a
toothpaste
campaign,
observes
Sukanya
Verma.
Back
in
1995,
pop
singer
Anaida
crooned,
Love
today
hain
ahi
aasan.
Nahi
usmein
pehle
si
shaan.
Same
old
Gen
X
suspicions
confound
Gen
Z
lovers
three
decades
later.
Or
so
deduces
Loveyapa
(love+
siyappa),
which
opens
with
the
disclaimer:
Falling
in
love
can
be
injurious
to
health.
It’s
not
because
they’re
exposing
themselves
to
dangers
of
radiation
by
being
constantly
glued
to
their
mobile
phones
and
its
zillion
apps
in
anticipation
of
love,
sex
and
dhokha
but
for
the
dark,
complex
secrets
every
device
holds
in
this
era
of
easily
possible
double
lives.
What
if
your
favourite
person
saw
this
faulty
side
of
you?
Loveyapa‘s
social
experiment
investigates
across
a
love
story
that
blossoms
on
social
media.
Directed
by
Advait
Chandan
(Secret
Superstar,
Laal
Singh
Chaddha),
the
Valentine’s
month
confection
is
a
faithful
remake
of
actor-filmmaker
Pradeep
Ranganathan’s
Tamil
rom-com,
Love
Today,
replete
with
zany
graphics
and
witty
visuals.
Where
Ranganathan’s
awkward
energy
and
frivolous
flirtations
infused
some
rascally
charm
in
Love
Today‘s
premise
—
even
if
not
enough
to
look
away
from
its
mollycoddling
treatment
of
cybercrimes
—
Loveyapa‘s
lacklustre
leads
leave
much
to
be
desired.
Gaurav
(Junaid
Khan)
and
Bani
(Khushi
Kapoor)
hook
up
on
Insta.
They’re
24
years
old
and
contemplating
marriage
yet
too
shy
to
kiss
on
the
lips.
The
coyness
would
strike
as
a
little
less
stupid
if
he
wasn’t
asking
her
for
hot
selfies
before
going
to
bed.
Except
in
this
mishmash
of
new
age
romance
meets
old-fashioned
values,
nothing
is
quite
as
it
seems.
Be
it
Bani
aka
Bani
Boo,
Gaurav
aka
Gucci/Baaboo/Cootchie
Coo/Thoo/you
get
the
picture.
Or
even
the
city
they
call
home.
The
AQI
setting
of
the
rosy-cheeked
Delhi
in
Loveyapa
could
put
Zurich
to
shame.
When
Bani’s
dad
(Ashutosh
Rana
playing
yet
another
daddy
figure
with
the
mischief
of
Narada
Muni
and
chaste
Hindi
obsession
of
Chupke
Chupke‘s
Pyaremohan
Ilahabadi)
learns
about
this
Boo-Boo
couple,
he
decides
to
put
them
through
a
trust
test,
which
involves
them
swapping
their
phones
for
a
few
days
and
only
then
decide
if
they
still
want
to
be
together.
As
expected,
the
switch
bares
how
casually
they
treat
their
commitment
when
Bani’s
cosy
interactions
with
her
exes
and
Gaurav’s
sexual
perversions
comes
to
light.
Fingers
are
pointed
and
characters
are
assassinated
as
Loveyapa
digs
for
humour
at
the
heart’s
expense.
Subplots
involving
Bani’s
tech-manipulating,
social
media
posturing
colleague
and
Gaurav’s
sister’s
upcoming
marriage
to
a
portly
fella
are
thrown
in
to,
simultaneously,
address
issues
of
deep
fake
and
body
shaming.
Despite
its
facetious
tone
and
Chandan’s
genuine
desire
for
sensitivity,
Gaurav’s
transgressions
convey
more
harassment
than
hormones.
Treading
on
offensive
territory,
treating
it
lightly
for
laughs
was
rampant
in
masalas
of
yore
but
doesn’t
bode
well
for
modern
love.
A
lot
of
the
jokes
would
still
sound
funny
if
the
actors
had
the
slightest
bit
of
comic
timing.
Like
the
scene
where
Bani
rattles
off
a
list
of
rules
and
restrictions
in
one
long
breath
while
also
responding
to
Gaurav’s
loony
interjections
in
the
same
vein.
The
entire
sequence
is
a
droll
dialogue
bombardment
whose
punches
don’t
land
in
Junaid
trying
too
hard
and
Khushi
simply
parroting
her
lines.
Khushi
fares
better
in
emotional
scenes
but
her
chemistry
with
Junaid
has
the
passion
of
a
toothpaste
campaign.
Junaid’s
acting
method
is
akin
to
someone
wringing
out
water
from
a
towel.
His
enthusiasm
to
emote
is
both
curious
and
fascinating.
There
are
scenes
of
him
trying
to
recreate
dad
Aamir
Khan’s
iconic
moments
from
Jo
Jeeta
Wohi
Sikander.
25
years
later,
they
are
still
making
the
same
mistake
as
they
did
with
Abhishek
Bachchan
by
trying
to
force
fit
him
in
his
father’s
shoes.
Loveyapa
may
differ
generation
to
generation,
Bollyapa
goes
on
and
on.
Loveyapa
Review
Rediff
Rating:
