Wake Up Sid belongs to a sweet genre that, without doubt, flows on from Farhan Akhtar’s Dil Chahta Hai: part Hollywood part Bollywood mostly coming-of-age subtly romantic largely original authentic in feel light in weight English in expression Hindi in language. It’s a film that explains best the post-gender, young, easy girl-boy equations that is new to urban India. There is yet an endearing quality to his ways that make up for that seeming lack of realism. For a hormonally active age (early 20s), the hero does seem in parts temperamentally naïve, or worryingly asexual. But their relationship remains purely platonic. The love-interest, her employer, is fired. She prefers men to boys, here, the magazine editor (Rahul Khanna), who loves Jazz, and thinks her fondness for old Hindi film-music comes from how simple it is to appreciate that sort of music. It’s a story of millions who move to Bombay (Oh Mumbai sorry, Mr Thackeray) and make it India’s most exciting city. She is fiercely independent, no one picks up after her, she moves on her own from Kolkata, picks up a small place in Bandra’s Chapel Road, finds herself a job in a local magazine, and a stake in a believable future.
A near antithesis to Sid’s character is Aisha’s (Konkona Sensharma, effortlessly real as ever). The humiliation of failure in an exam is humiliation still, however carefree and pampered a child like Sid you may be (as is the case). Some do forever as, I suppose, they should: “be present,” as it were. We all believe too much of a good thing can’t be that bad. They belong to an electronically updated youth that doesn’t drown itself in rebellion, self-righteousness or existentialist angst. I’m sure every city and its campuses have their own similar variants. His floating population makes for the ‘dhaba crowd’ at St Stephen’s in Delhi, or the guys around the ‘woods’ at St Xavier’s in Mumbai.
Wake up sid movie professional#
Professional ambitions remain immaterial to his present. Young, warm Sid (first charming, contemporary star-material in a while) drives the fastest car in college. It’s just that crunching numbers among replaceable cubicles and ‘suits’ of Mehra Furnishings is unlikely to be his preferred scene. His is not some Bollywood “Singhania group of industries” neither is the malik’s son the proverbial ‘aiyash’. He worked his backside off to earn the wealth. The father owns a successful company of bathroom furnishings the sorts that make shower fittings etc. Sometimes her poor access to English, she feels, disconnects her from her son.
The mother gave up formal education to raise family. Sid’s parents have had other pressing concerns to take care of the son’s name is a minor one. You wonder why Indian parents don’t just give their children the eventually shortened names anyway.
Like every Sandeep in this country is Sandy Aditya, Adi Sameer, Sam.
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