Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya: A Convoluted Attempt at Human-Robot Relations

A Review of Bollywood's Latest Venture into Sci-Fi Comedy

Feb 10, 2024 - 13:04
Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya: A Convoluted Attempt at Human-Robot Relations

Let me tell you that Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya seems more longer if by the time you get to "jiya," you have forgotten what "teri" means. For the most portion of its 143-minute duration, this video is convoluted, nonsensical, and unneeded; in fact, robots ought to sue humans for creating it.

The genre of stories with humans and machines interacting and often at odds with one another has been expanding rapidly in the West. These movies have either been made for laughs or intended to serve as a warning on the need to use technology carefully—often with baby gloves—or sometimes even for both purposes. Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya fails to grasp any kind of coherence; its effort to blend many genres together is doomed because to poor writing, a disorganized storyline, and superficial presentation. Is this a "robot love"? "Robot comedy?" is it? It's "horror of the robot!" The term "horror" is crucial in this instance.


Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya, which stars Kriti Sanon and Shahid Kapoor together for the first time and is directed by Amit Joshi and Aradhana Sah, begins with Shahid doing the most Kabir Singh-like thing he can: dismissing his domestic assistant. Luckily, he doesn't pursue her out of the building; instead, his wrath in the movie now seems to be more like dissatisfaction over the maid's poor tofu cooking.

Bollywood often uses Aryan Agnihotri, played by Shahid, as a romantic comedy leading man, portraying him as a cool, thirty-something-approaching twenty-five. He is a robotics engineer, which makes him clever, but he also despises commitment, makes women want him badly, and is a recluse. Aryan meets another "domestic help," or manager, when he travels to the US to see his maasi (played by Dimple Kapadia), who also leads the firm he works for. However, this manager turns out to be Kriti Sanon. Sifra is her name.

The two got along well. Sifra is the ideal companion for Aryan because, well, she never challenges him and he can manipulate her into doing anything he pleases. The two become friends by exchanging slang terms and smoking smokes. By then, everyone in the crowd would be singing along to the Kabir Singh theme song nonstop in their minds. Aryan's fantasy world quickly comes crashing down; after only one song and one romp, he starts to experience "feelings" for the supposedly emotionless Sifra. He learns that Sifra, which stands for "Super Intelligent Female Robert Automation," is a robot.

There have previously been unsuccessful attempts at integrating robots and humans in Indian movies. Two notable examples are Rajinikanth's Robot/Enthiran and Shah Rukh Khan's Ra.One. Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya is more akin to Hamari Bahu Rajinikanth, a television series where a robot plays a bahu, in terms of tone and approach. After the commercial break, the movie mostly follows the path of a Hindi soap opera, with Aryan, who is at this point madly in love with Sifra, taking her to live with his enormous Indian family. He refers to it as a sociological experiment, but soon after, it is evident that the two are getting ready to enter the aisle. Naturally, trouble follows. By the time the movie concludes, you'll be over humans and robots altogether.

This is unfortunate since, while being a comedy, the picture, which was written by its creators, has a lot of things to say. The majority of the gags are terrible; you should chuckle whenever a character says "harami bahu" rather than "hamari bahu," and Shahid and Kriti's relationship is as icy as the North Pole. The police station scene and a brief segment of the conclusion, in which the robot goes awry and transforms into Bhool Bhulaiyaa's Monjulika, are the only passages that make you laugh out loud. Of course, there's also the (presumably unintended) meta-reference of Dharmendra, who plays a patriarch and is always holding a glass, lying in a medical bed and requesting a drink. With the exception of Shahid's sadly missed fluid dancing steps and Kriti's impossibly flawless image, the rest of the movie is a haze caused by inebriation.



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Punam Shaw I am a versatile full-stack developer skilled in both front-end and back-end technologies, creating comprehensive web applications and solutions. I have done B.com in Accountancy hons.