1.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Do Patti on Netflix

I’m no expert on the Indian legal system, but I’m 99% certain the events of Do Patti (“Two Cards”) could not play out the way they do in the movie.

The Netflix Original film is Kriti Sanon’s first venture as a producer, and she chose a project in which she plays a double role as identical twins Saumya and Shailee Pundir. You can tell them apart because “good” twin Saumya dresses conservatively while “bad” twin Shailee wears shorts.

The relationship between the girls has been fraught since their mother’s death when they were five. Saumya became anxious and depressed, requiring more attention from the family’s housekeeper Maaji (Tanvi Azmi). Shailee felt ignored and acted out, so their dad sent her away to boarding school. Shailee stayed away even after Dad died a few years later.

Now, as adults, shorts-wearing Shailee is determined not to let Saumya win again. When Saumya lands handsome, adventurous boyfriend Dhruv (Shaheer Sheikh), Shailee seduces him. Her efforts are thwarted when Dhruv’s rich dad threatens to cut him off if he doesn’t drop the party girl and marry someone more domestically inclined, like Saumya.

This family history is told by Maaji to Inspector VJ (Kajol), who functions as the film’s rickety narrative scaffolding. VJ is the new cop in a touristy hill town, and she’s introduced with dopey music as she and her subordinate Katoch (Brijendra Kala) argue over who’s supposed to check the fuse box when the lights go out. We get a voiceover as VJ rides her motorcycle, thinking about the differences between her “letter of the law” father and her “spirit of the law” mother.

This ethical conflict comes to bear later when Saumya accuses Dhruv of trying to kill her while they are paragliding. VJ has seen the bruises on Saumya’s face and encouraged her to report him for domestic violence before. So when Saumya is finally ready, VJ jumps at the chance to represent her in court. She’s not just a cop! She’s also a lawyer!

There’s no reason for VJ to be both investigator and attorney, other than to give Kajol more screentime. It feels gimmicky and old-fashioned, which I suppose fits with the goofball cop treatment her character gets early on. But something about the tone feels off, especially since director Shashanka Chaturvedi and writer Kanika Dhillon want to be seen as taking the issue of domestic violence seriously. Some of Dhruv’s abuse is shown in detail, and statistics at the end of the film highlight how widespread the issue is globally.

Those statistics come after a finale that is so silly that it undermines any salient points the film tries to make. The courtroom scene plays out in a way that I’m confident no Indian judge would ever allow. The corny way it tries to guide audience emotions feels outdated, and not in a nostalgic way. It’s just messy.

Dhillon’s Haseen Dillruba films for Netflix are more outlandish than Do Patti — which she co-produced — but feel more tonally consistent. Though Sanon acquits herself well in front of the camera, I wish her first turn as a producer would have been on a film with a stronger screenplay.

Links

• Do Patti at Wikipedia
• Do Patti at IMDb
• My review of Haseen Dillruba
• My review of Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba