Ankur Chaddha (Arjun Kapoor) has nightmares about ex-wife Prableen (Bhumi Pednekar), long after they’ve been divorced. Closing a real estate deal for his dad (Shakti Kapoor) in picturesque Rishikesh, Ankur bumps into the glamorous Antara Khanna (Rakul Preet Singh) who was out of reach for him in their college days. She is rich, swings between teaching handgliding and practising sports physiotherapy, and she’s single. He goes into flashbacks to tell her (and the audience) what happened with the bhootni incarnate in his nightmares. Antara and Prableen have history too, flashing back to college days, to friction in a queue to pick up a form. Memories of the taunts at Antara’s leg-revealing shorts and her retorts to Prableen, haven’t faded with time. A second jab at happiness beckons when romance blooms. Ankur even overcomes his fear of heights to propose to Antara dramatically, dropping from a parachute in front of a mall. But Prableen with her menacing “Baby, Baby” has returned, her memory conveniently blanking out their divorce.

You’ve seen Broken News. You know how rival channels work, ethics versus TRPs. You’ve seen Dhamaka and newsroom ambitions that prevail over national security. You’ve seen Despatch, the print medium giving way to digital. You’ve also seen umpteen movies and shows centred around a dreaded criminal, cops, journalists and politicians. You know that cops on the take, on the payroll of businessmen, ministers and opposition leaders, contribute to regular cinematic fodder. The show begins with someone with a huge following stepping out. Binny Chaudhry has surrendered, scream assorted TV anchors. And Binny is shot. The rest is a flashback to return to this moment at the end. Sudhir Mishra who takes the credit as showrunner and director (along with Sanjeev Kaul), picks up a book titled The Price You Pay and proceeds to build Binny Chaudhry (Rahul Bhat) as an uncatchable criminal with hawala rackets, kidnappings and ransom money that he showers like confetti over Indirapuram, the place he grew up in Delhi.

It’s a far-from-humorous arranged match between Koyal (Yami Gautam) and Veer Poddar (Pratik Gandhi), both looking way past the inexperienced young, eligible bachelor girl or boy stage. It’s even more like an unfunny caricature when parents talk glowingly on their behalf, the ‘girl’ and ‘boy’ nodding like bovine. Veer is a ‘veterinarian’, the families can’t pronounce it as they grapple with ‘vegetarian’ and ‘veteran’. Laugh, guys. It’s followed by over-enthu families crowding ‘girl’ and ‘boy’ who get no chance to get to know each other until their wedding night. Director Rishab Seth’s scenes calibrated for chuckles, don’t work so far. Worse follows as writers Aarsh Vora, Aditya Dhar and Rishab Seth give awkwardness to the groom who fumbles with initiating first-night proceedings, like it’s the height of humour. He even apologises to Koyal for a packet of condoms in his pocket.

Ajay Devgn’s voice introduces the pride of the Marathas, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj and the Deccan where he held sway. Also meet Aurangzeb and the Moghuls. They are parallels in Indian history. The biggest compliment a veer can receive is when he dies and a sworn enemy asks God to keep open the doors to “jannat” for a “sher” is on his way. When Shivaji’s death is announced, amidst a chorus of sycophantic utterings by courtiers, Aurangzeb (Akshaye Khanna), with sunken cheeks and poring over crochet work, wonders aloud, “Shiva jaisa dushman ab milega kahan?” Aurang then goes on to do what he does best – celebrate the death of his enemy. Writer-director Laxman Utekar’s cinematography origins show up in the “amazeballs” visuals. The earth trembles, hooves thunder in close-ups. The Maratha chest swells with pride as Chhatrapati Shivaji’s son Shambhu Raje (Vicky Kaushal) arrives, tanned and majestic astride his horse, sword flying, his roar surround sound.

It’s the 90s world of Rajshri. A mansion. A joint family. A starchy patriarch/matriarch whose word is writ, everybody else shivers, cowers before the family dictator. Karan Johar put Amitabh Bachchan in that stern position in K3G and reversed the gender to give Jaya Bachchan the same unbending top place in Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani. Step into the sprawling mansion of the Rathi parivar in Ratlam where Taoji (Kanwaljit Singh) is the stiff principled head of a large joint family. Like Karan Johar’s joint family in RARKPK, the Rathis too are renowned for their famous mithai. But Taoji’s rules are anything but meetha. More than four decades ago, there was a film called Ek Hi Bhool (1981). Those same 80s sentiments and ambience may be transplanted into the Rathi mansion and labelled, Ek Hi Jhooth. Taoji can never forgive a lie. His sister (Anjana Sukhani) is still paying the price for having fallen in love with someone outside their community. ‘It wasn’t about the community, it was her lying about it that Taoji cannot forgive,’ is underlined a couple of times. And in that claustrophobically tradition-bound ambience, the family is eternally grateful to Fufaji (Rajesh Tailang) who did them all a big favour for saving their reputation and marrying the tainted sister, now referred to as “Bua”.

It takes off on a merry note. There’s a request made to the audience (in Aamir Khan’s voice) about mobile phones: do not exchange yours with anybody else. It sets the tone for freshness. Spanking new content, young first-timers in the lead, parental scoldings you haven’t heard before and sometimes, chaotic humour. These are the four elements that make writer-director Advait Chandan’s conventionally labelled ‘romantic comedy’ unconventional. It’s new age all through. Buying a new phone, payment by phone. Constant chats. They know each other’s friends, families and house layout even before stepping into each other’s domains. “Baani boo, I can’t hear you.” “Gucci, awaaz nahi aa rahi hai.” Lovebirds Baani Sharma (Khushi Kapoor) and Gaurav Sachdeva (Junaid Khan) can’t hear each other clearly, he climbing the water tank to get a connection, she raising her voice at home.

Boman Irani just enriched his resume, adding to his impressive repertoire of performances, a sterling debut as writer-director. Strained father-son relationships have consistently provided fodder to Hindi cinema. From the Dilip Kumar-Amitabh Bachchan cop-son drama of Ramesh Sippy’s Shakti to the violently successful Anil Kapoor-Ranbir stand-off in Animal, the stress comes in different forms. Boman Irani’s contribution to this troubled bond birthed at home, is hot chocolate comforting. The loss of his wife of many years spells emotional upheaval on multiple fronts for retired typing school owner and teacher Shiv Mehta (Boman Irani). He has to respect the pact he’d made with his wife that the partner who outlives the other would move to America to stay with daughter Anu (Puja Sarup). It’s a wrench for him to bid goodbye to their home in Navsari, Gujarat. To the memorabilia and to memories, his gully cricket with little boys, his Gavaskar-signed bat, his manual typewriter.

There’s an instruction from Deputy Commissioner of Police Farhan Khan (Pravesh Rana) to junior Dev Ambre (Shahid Kapoor) that goes, “Get answers to three questions: who, how and why.” He is referring to the assassination of ACP Rohan D’silva (Paval Gulati) who was shot dead on an open ground at a Mumbai Police event where he was receiving a gallantry award. The viewer feels like asking the same three questions. Who made this film? A director from Malayalam cinema called Rosshan Andrrews, making his Hindi debut with a remake of his own 2013 film Mumbai Police.

To pick one from the ultimate storyteller’s repertoire requires a special talent. Writer- director Ananth Narayan Mahadevan has done just that–he has unerringly chosen a subject that blends two cultures (Bengali, Gujarati), poking fun at neither but having fun all the same. It’s not just about retired storyteller Tarini Bandopadhyay (Paresh Rawal) feeling the fish and bargaining before buying it in Calcutta or the strict vegetarian dhokla-thepla that he says is “delectable” to his wealthy host Ratan Garodia (Adil Hussain) in Ahmedabad while muttering, “disgusting” over the phone to fellow Bengalis. There’s a good-natured swipe at capitalism and socialism too. To this, add unpreached undercurrents like the need to evaluate your self-worth with confidence along with some intrigue on where this is going, and you get Satyajit Ray’s short story Golpo Boliye Tarini Khuro.

Have you spared a minute to check if your bank balance has an insignificant discrepancy? Would you invest precious time and energy to make the bank accountable for Rs 27.50? It’s precisely this common customer lethargy that makes suave and merry Micky Mehta (Neil Nitin Mukesh) make dizzy sums like Rs 20,000 crore. Small amounts that don’t tally, interest credited just a day later, inconsequential figures that account holders ignore. Micky preys on just this customer ignorance to live life like a party. But there’s always one aam insaan whose brain works like a calculator. Senior Ticket Collector Radhe Mohan Sharma (R Madhavan) arrives laden with oranges that he generously shares with passengers. “I don’t touch stolen goods,” huffs passenger P Subhash (Kirti Kulhari). His enthusiastic reply about taking oranges to balance what the fruit seller owed him as change, delightfully introduces Radhe’s quirk. Debits and credits must tally. He’d once rejected a marriage proposal too because the girl was weak in Maths.