Kemmu’s directorial debut shows us Goa’s raw reality, creating a film experience that’s nothing like the movies, and yet is everything like the movies
If there’s a genre in Hindi cinema crying out for revival, it’s slapstick comedy — a pure, unadulterated form that harks back to, say, Priyadarshan’s films. Not the content-driven expository or cerebral fares or romantic comedies, nor the dramedies, but the kind that tickles the funny bone with unabashed, lowbrow humour. Kunal Kemmu’s directorial debut, Madgaon Express, is a film designed to take viewers back to a simpler time; a comedy of errors, it’s filled with moments that evoke nostalgia.
The story follows three school friends: Pratik ‘Pinku’ Garodia (Pratik Gandhi), Ayush Gupta (Avinash Tiwary), and Dhanush ‘Dodo’ Sawant (Divyenndu). They dream of a trip to Goa for years, but their plans never come through. Pratik and Ayush move to Cape Town and New York, respectively, while Dodo remains stuck in Mumbai, both physically and mentally, fabricating an eventful life online using Photoshop.
Years later, as the trio finally sets off on their long-awaited Goa adventure, which reminds one of the spirit of Dil Chahta Hai (2001), they quickly realize that their expectations don’t align with reality. The Goa they had imagined, steeped in cinematic allure, is a far cry from the one they encounter. The vibrant beach parties and spontaneous romances are replaced in real-life Goa by silent shorelines, exorbitant cab fares due to its popularity as a tourist spot, and sweltering heat. Here, the closest semblance of fun the trio find is a modest shack offering chilled beer, a contrast to the flashy scenes they had hoped to discover.
A refreshing perspective on friendship, adventure
Through Madgaon Express, Kemmu not only celebrates iconic films like Dil Chahta Hai and Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (2011) — both are about three inseparable childhood friends, who discover something different about themselves, and each other, when they are on a trip — but also demystifies the illusions they (and other films like Golmaal and Dear Zindagi) perpetuate, and wittily strips away their glossy facade. It almost feels like a cinematic full circle, shifting from the romanticized portrayal of Goa to its raw reality, creating a film experience that is nothing like the movies, and yet is everything like the movies.
Ironically, the producers of Madgaon Express, Farhan Akhtar and Ritesh Sidhwani, are the creative forces behind the very films that have pioneered the boys’ trip genre. Madgaon Express, backed by the Excel Entertainment duo, presents a refreshing perspective on friendship, adventure, and the ‘Goa’ trip that remains in the eternal bucket list of young friends’ groups — a place for flings and frolics, where memories are made, bonds strengthened, and promises kept, and broken.
However, this dream trip is destined for failure from the outset. Dodo, who has no job and lives with his father, plans the adventure without the comforts money brings, all the while keeping this crucial detail hidden from the other two. He convinces them to embark on this trip ‘like they would have in college — penniless and without reservations.’ This includes opting for a second-class train, specifically the Madgaon Express, which sets the stage for their misadventures.
Pinku, the perpetual worrywart who lives on pills and is allergic to life itself, freaks out when he realizes Dodo’s plan to travel by train and adamantly refuses to go through with it. Meanwhile, Ayush, trying to play peacemaker between his two friends, is appalled by the idea of travelling this way when they could easily afford a flight. In what ends as a scene with a monologue on the Indian Railways, Kemmu takes a dig at the excessive nationalism that pervades our movies and real life today.
As ‘losers’ set up for mishaps, the trio embodies relatable imperfections, reflecting the common struggles and vulnerabilities we all encounter. Dodo symbolizes the one who’s left behind in the race of life, grappling with feelings of inadequacy as his peers seemingly have everything — money, friends, and stable jobs. Pratik, hailing from a conservative Gujju family and a gentle mama’s boy, finds himself deeply in love with a Muslim woman, while Ayush is besotted with a woman he’s only ever talked to online.
Coming-of-age struggles, and disillusionment
The film launches into action when Pratik unwittingly trades his bag of medicines for one brimming with guns, money, and cryptic keys linked to a room laden with cocaine. Things take a turn for the worse when Chhaya Kadam (Kanchan Kombdi) and Upendra Limaye (local don Mendoza Bhai), two rival gangsters with a past marred by a marriage gone wrong, enter the scene. Pratik, Ayush, and Dodo find their groove when they pop hallucinogenic gummies at the behest of Dodo. These psychedelic treats transport them to a whimsical world of song and dance, and their long-held fantasies of Goa begin to seem real.
However, their euphoric journey is short-lived, as they soon snap back to reality, prompting Pratik to deliver what can be considered the film’s most brilliantly crafted punchline. In a moment that encapsulates an entire generation’s coming-of-age struggles and connects it to Gen-Z’s sense of disillusionment, Pratik exclaims in exasperation, “pehle Goa aa nahi paa rahe they, ab jaa nahi paa rahe hai (First, we couldn’t come to Goa, now we can’t leave it.)” This predicament arises as they find themselves pursued not only by the police, but also by two rival gangs, Mendoza and Kombdi. Adding to the chaos is the man whose bag Pinku unwittingly took from the station, unknowingly linking them to a dangerous cocaine consignment that everyone’s after.
During a post-lunch lull, Mendoza and his cronies succumb to an afternoon siesta, allowing hostages Ayush and Tasha (a vague Nora Fatehi) to execute a seemingly effortless escape, much to Mendoza’s chagrin. He awakens in a fury, bellowing, “Am I running a gang or a government office?” The film abounds with such memorable one-liners. For instance, when Pratik, fuelled by an accidental overdose of cocaine, transforms from a timid, Gujarati boy into a fearless man — his gait changes and his voice acquires more gravitas — Dodo humorously urges him to temper his newfound bravado, dubbing him, ‘the 10-minute Rambo.’ Remo D’Souza’s cameo role adds a touch of surprise to the film; the choreographer is in an eccentric avatar, in service of the buffoonery that Kemmu has going around with his wacky plot.
A bet on himself
The debutant filmmaker also weaves nods to various popular films and his own filmography into the narrative. Starting as a child artist with brilliant performances in films like Sir (1993), Zakhm (1998) and Raja Hindustani (1996), Kemmu has evolved into a filmmaker who is truly a child of the movies; it’s evident from scenes in Madgaon Express, where casual conversations are peppered with references like ‘Sun raha hai tu?’ ‘Ro raha hu main, a playful nod to the hit song from Aashiqui 2.
As an adult actor, Kemmu’s priceless comic timing and fearless approach to acting often go unnoticed. The actor has left his mark in iconic comedy films like the Golmaal series, the underrated gem Go Goa Gone — India’s first zombie and stoner film — and, more recently, in Lootcase. Madgaon Express is littered with direct or creative nods to each of these films as well as to comedies like Dhamaal and Welcome. In many ways, Madgaon Express is Kemmu’s bet on himself; he makes good use of his repository of talent that has often gone wasted. The actor-turned-filmmaker showcases his comedic flair by making a film that he would likely excel in as an actor as well.
Among other cast, Gandhi, Divyenndu, and Tiwary do a fine job of pulling off this laugh riot. Their characters complement each other in every aspect, whether it’s their antics or their ability to evoke empathy in otherwise chaotic situations. Avinash’s portrayal adds a charming neutrality; it attempts to anchor the other two amidst the chaos, but ultimately faces his own humbling moments towards the end. Divyenndu brings a blend of earnestness and absurdity to his character, often exacerbating problems with outlandish explanations; yet, he retains a certain innocence that makes him endearing despite his flaws.
Pratik Gandhi steals the show, injecting the film with spontaneity that feels incredibly natural. His talent for making the audience laugh is effortlessly brilliant. Every time he switches from meek to macho, it’s met with preemptive laughter from the audience; the transition is so seamless, it’s cackling. Whether it’s his demand to ‘watch me roar’ or his witty retort to Dodo’s exaggerated monologue by questioning the scenic value in the darkness of night, his comedic timing and delivery are impeccable, leaving you with a full heart and an aching belly. Madgaon Express is a delightful blend of such gags and physical humour that offers a much-needed respite at a time when reality seems stranger than fiction.
