The Ayushmann Khurrana social message movie
is now a bonafide Bollywood sub-genre.
In film after film, the actor, usually playing
a middle-class, small-town character,
tackles subjects that are considered risky
and risqué for the traditionally 
wholesome world of Hindi cinema.
He started with sperm donation in Vicky Donor
and seems to be working through 
all types of societal issues.
Bala is about lookism,
defined as prejudice or discrimination 
based on physical appearance.
Bala is a balding 25-year-old 
living in Kanpur.
He was named Balmukund 
because of his hair,
but now, the lustrous locks are transforming 
into a receding hairline.
He is, as he puts it, going from 
Shah Rukh Khan to Anupam Kher.
Anyone who has woken up with hair on the pillow
will relate to Bala’s hyperventilating anguish.
As his strands decrease, his attempts to hold
on to them become even more desperate.
We get a hilarious, nicely crafted sequence
in which Bala explores every remedy –
from hair transplants to 
a mixture of cow dung and semen.
His hapless brother has the job 
of applying these concoctions.
Dheerendra Kumar Gautam 
who plays him is bang on.
As are Saurabh Shukla and Sunita Rajwar 
as Bala’s parents.
Director Amar Kaushik gets 
these details exactly right.
Bala’s affectionate but argumentative family,
the comically contentious relationship
between his father and his maternal grandfather
whose house they live in,
the obsession with Bollywood 
and Tik Tok,
the narrow streets in which 
a wedding band plays Tequila,
and the accents, aspirations and 
mannerisms of small-town India.
Writer Niren Bhatt mines this material 
for both emotion and humor.
His stand-out creation is Pari, Lucknow’s
Tik Tok queen,
played with empathy and insight 
by the lovely Yami Gautam.
In one of the film’s best scenes,
Pari explains to Bala why good looks 
have always been her priority
because her sense of self is based
on likes and comments on social media.
Her words hit hard.
Because in varying degrees, all 
our lives have been hollowed out
by the same endless projection.
Pari and Bala’s relationship 
is played out on Tik Tok.
In a memorable montage, 
they redo 90s chartbusters.
There's enough to enjoy here and yet Bala
doesn’t land with the sophistication and
satisfaction of Amar’s first film – Stree.
Largely because the writing doesn’t have
that subversion and cleverness.
Stree also grappled with important issues,
but the film didn’t hit you 
on the head with it.
Bala is more simplistic and on-the-nose.
A running voiceover by Vijay Raaz 
explains to us what we're seeing.
Don't get me wrong,
His addition to any film 
makes me happy,
but did we really need someone to say: 
Kismat hi sulabh shauchaalya jaisi hai.
Bala also tries to do way too much.
Bhumi Pednekar, painted many shades darker, 
is Bala’s childhood friend Latika.
Latika is Kanpur’s woke activist.
She’s in the film to teach us why our obsession
with fair skin is a terrible thing.
Ironically, the color on Bhumi’s face is
so distracting that this moral is lost.
I think filmmakers should have 
the freedom to cast who they want,
but here Bhumi’s talent is misplaced.
Moreover, her track is half-baked – 
it seems to be stitched in
only so her character 
could deliver the message.
Ayushmann, as always, 
is affable and relatable as Bala.
With a refreshing lack of vanity, he nails
the extreme insecurity and trauma of balding.
Ayushmann isn’t afraid 
to look foolish and unheroic.
We laugh both at Bala and with him.
But I do wonder 
if after so many films,
this act of being different has also 
become somewhat formulaic.
Seema Pahwa and Abhishek Banerjee 
are similarly dependable,
but their characters also feel familiar.
There just isn’t enough surprise here.
Bala is an aspiring stand-up comic.
He entertains people by mimicking Bollywood
stars, especially Shah Rukh Khan.
This film is like his act – fun in places,
flat in others and just not enough sticks.
