Guns & Gulaabs: Season 1 (2023) TV Drinking Game
Down a Shot: each time Chaar Cut Atmaram avoids paying extra charges on a phone call
Down a Shot: each time Chaar Cut Atmaram flashes his trademark grin at a plausible victim
Down a Shot: each time sparks fly between Tipu and Lekha ji
By: Vidal D’costa (Two Beers) –
Tipu, a small town mechanic, struggles to emerge unscathed from the looming shadow of his late father Babu Tiger, a local drug lord’s henchman who achieved notoriety and was hailed as a living legend in all of Gulaabganj. However an accidental, yet gory mishap involving a spanner and a local goon’s eyeball leads to his inadvertent foray into the opium trade, where even lawmen are equally shady shareholders profiteering off the drug trade for their own selfish motives. To add to his problems, the gullible mechanic is ruthlessly pursued by the jilted, super-superstitious, and possibly immortal Chaar Cut Atmaram, a contract killer who similarly suffers from an untreated case of childhood trauma. Finding his only shot at escaping his father’s shadow by simply toeing the line compromised, Tipu is now forced to cross the line, bid adieu to a former life of normalcy, and begrudgingly embrace this line of work instead.
A Toast
The unapologetically unhinged ode/piss-take of retro-core 90s nostalgia (i.e. silly playground games such as the ‘FLAMES’ love test and the pre-Shazam era of replaying audio cassettes to fixate over misheard lyrics) which seems to be a fad lately, and the familiarity of showrunners Raj-DK’s tried and tested formula work in favour of this series. Regardless of the genre, whether a contemporary espionage thriller like Family Man, or a revenge saga set in the 90s, fans of this duo’s work can expect to find trademark archetypes ranging from the quintessential loyal but flawed family man who flip-flops with his moral code thus losing his grasp on his put-on facade/mask (in an alternate universe Arjun in Guns & Gulaabs and Sri from Family Man would have been besties), or the mischievous adolescents who are constantly cooking up trouble as well as their own childish and fantastical personal drama which often runs parallel to the messy lives of their grown-up counterparts. Other trademarks and Easter eggs that stand out include the intense hospital shootout scene, akin to the one in Family Man‘s first season. While the former was filmed in one take to create a suspenseful atmosphere, in the latter the focus shifts to lighting and the use of shadows and smoke effects to enhance suspense and furthermore to create an ominous atmosphere, particularly with the visuals of Chaar Cut Atmaram eerily stalking his ‘prey’ in the dark.
The series is also peppered with intentionally cartoonish action sequences involving homemade pistols breaking off and splintering the hands of the gunmen and a fast-paced bike chase scene, all while Tipu’s sidekick Bunty is subjected to a merciless belting by the pursuers, both of which feel highly reminiscent to the Gangs of Wasseypur franchise, which is a much-beloved darkly comedic revenge saga in a similar vein. Classic gags of miscommunication, one of which is Tipu’s love interest Lekha ji unintentionally becoming the recipient of love letters laced with double entendres, also evoke belly laughs.
But it isn’t just Raj-DK sticking to their formula, nor the whimsical comedic interludes that are the heart of Guns & Gulaabs, but rather the manner in which a goofy show can simultaneously switch gears and stir up discourse by stressing on far more grounded mature topics, too. Just as Family Man addressed the after-effects of PTSD on its lead, seasoned spy Srikant Tiwary/Sri, certain episodes of Guns & Gulaabs place emphasis on the need to karate chop toxic masculinity and even touch upon the Oedipus complex- ranging from the daddy issues of Tipu to the nuances in capturing Jugnu/Ganchi Jr’s (the heir apparent to the Ganchi drug empire) quest for acceptance after grappling with gender dysphoria, and a scene wherein Chaar Cut Atmaram alludes to his own toxic masculinity while narrating his villain origins story to an understanding audience comprising of two of his henchmen. The arcs of the aforementioned characters are further tied together via parallels drawn between Tipu unwillingly carrying forth a dead father’s problematic legacy that refuses to die down, and Jugnu/Ganchi Jr’s unsuccessful quest at resuscitating the business of a living, but comatose father.
The storytelling also utilizes meaningful imagery to its fullest- showcased via the importance of a school badge in motivating its wearer and in paving paths to bigger dreams of becoming a district collector, or a police badge that’s frequently used to abuse power/as an indicator of a reckless show of power. The incorporation of a non-linear storytelling approach, especially in the finale, ensures an engrossing viewing experience until the very last frame, with the build-up eventually resulting in a punchy payoff that’s thrilling to the core. Considering that a majority of the show’s ensemble of characters find a new lease of life (both metaphorically and literally) in the final act, I’m also keeping my fingers crossed for a second serving.
Rajkummar Rao is a natural fit as Tipu, imbibing this character with major goofball energy with his knack for improv and channeling a ‘Vicky pleej’-esque demeanor (a hint at his humble and similarly lovesick tailor Vicky from the 2018 horror comedy Stree, which not surprisingly was also a Raj-DK production). Since his debut in Rukh, Adarsh Gourav continues to impress and improve upon his acting chops, turning in a layered performance as Jugnu/Ganchi Jr with his apt facial tics, voice modulation, and body language. T.J. Bhanu radiates sincerity and feel-good vibes as the sympathetic English teacher Lekha ji/Chandralekha, who acts as an ally, patiently lending a ear to the trauma dumps of the local himbos of Gulaabganj, many of whom are either feeling emasculated, stewing in insecurities, and/or attempting to break free from the shackles of childhood trauma.
Vipin Sharma and Manuj Sharma lend ample support as Jugnu/Ganchi Jr’s guardian Mahendra and Bunty respectively. Of course, I’ve saved the best for last, as Gulshan Devaiah leaves a lasting impression as the iconic antagonistic Chaar Cut Atmaram, returning in top form after previously turning in an effortless performance as a whimsical baddie in Mard Ko Dard Nahin Hota (2018). One can expect the unexpected with Devaiah yet again sending chills down the spine, regardless of whether his character is sauntering down half empty hospital corridors or silently creeping up on his enemies- with a fuse bomb in one hand, his trusty pen knife in the other, topped off with either a lit cigarette or villainous smirk hanging off his lips.
Beer Two
In a sea of formidable performances by his co-stars, Dulquer Salmaan feels lost in the role of Arjun. The actor’s screen presence hardly captivates and I found myself desperately fast-forwarding through many of his scenes. His dialogue delivery, too, feels incredibly underwhelming/restrained, and it is especially difficult to take him seriously in scenes where Arjun is required to appear intimidating, bad-ass, or standoff-ish in nature, but the actor instead comes across as a rookie cop. As a result of an unconvincing and largely uninspired performance, it proved to be difficult to ascertain whether viewers are expected to root for this helpless family man, or boo at his unpleasant actions, and even scenes with comic potential between Arjun and the other characters feel like a wasted opportunity. Personally, I would have loved to have seen veterans like R. Madhavan or Prithviraj take on this mature and complex role instead, mainly since both are well-known for portraying such flawed personas onscreen in works such as Vikram Vedha, Mumbai Police and Raavanan respectively.
Verdict
With a banger soundtrack, colourful yet personable characters with daddy issues who ultimately work it out, as well as violence that serves a purpose without feeling too extreme, plus random laugh out loud scenarios galore, Guns & Gulaabs is an easy weekend binge that doubles as subtle social commentary. It might just be the antidote you’re looking for, especially if its polar opposite (cough, Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s highly misogynistic take on daddy issues, Animal) totally didn’t float your boat.
