Anurag Kashyap’s latest Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat opens with a little note on love. The eponymous DJ (Vicky Kaushal) tells his listeners that, “Love has many sides. Love does not ask for permission… Society defines the boundaries of love…” The beginning verse sums up the 120-minute film easily: a take on love, its elusive nature, its expectations, and its shortcomings. Kashyap has attempted to weave a story that uses Gen Z romance as a focal point to comment on society and its ageless endeavors to separate lovers. The trope is rather familiar: Two parallel narratives, telling ‘almost-love stories’ of two couples who face similar obstacles in their romantic pursuits. 

Anurag Kashyap is one of those filmmakers in the Indian film industry who strives not to be characterized by one genre or type of work. He has given us the celebrated two-part crime film Gangs of Wasseypur (2012), a rather unflattering desi sci-fi Dobaaraa (2022), the emotional commotion Manmarziyaan (2018), and now with Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat (2023). It is almost as if the 50-something director has tried to capture the facets of love, youth, rebellion, and conservatism. 

The musical rom-com opens in Dalhousie, a small town in the Indian state of Himachal Pradesh, where Amrita (Alaya F), a school-going girl, devotes her time to either grooving on DJ Mohabbat’s music or filming TikTok-like videos. A local DVD peddler, Yakub (Karan Mehta), is her aide in sustaining the harmless hobbies that she pursues without her family’s knowledge. In the same breath, we come across a rich, spoiled, yet honest Ayesha (also played by Alaya F) and a reserved Harmeet (also played by Karan Mehta) who aspires to be a music composer—both based in London. The two almost lovers are faced with similar obstacles in their quest for love. When Amrita and Yakub innocently decide to elope together in order to attend DJ Mohabbat’s underground concert, their disappearance is labeled a classic case of Love Jihad—a conspiracy theory developed by Hindu conservatives, accusing Muslim men of wooing Hindu women to convert them into Islam. In another part of the world (and time), Ayesha and Harmeet fall in love, but their brewing love story falls prey to class divide. 

Almost Pyaar With DJ Mohabbat is this earnest attempt to draw attention to the political turmoil in the country, though in moderation. A little background for my global readers: Since 2014, India has been governed by an outwardly right-wing political party. Instances of hate crimes have been on a significant rise since then. In a certain scene, Amrita—who is 16 or 17—tells Yakub that things changed when she turned 10—a direct allusion to the political shift. Thus, Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat attempts to ask timely questions. It touches upon patriarchy, religious fundamentalism, and class difference. Homosexuality is also dealt with—though with stereotypes. 

While Anurag Kashyap sure does know how to create a telling plot, Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat continues to be a fragmented film with too much cramped in the screenplay, which has little to offer. There are dialogues that sound revolutionary, making a bold statement. Yet, the film does nothing more than state the obvious. There is no takeaway except the hyperbolic message—that is packaged in a song—-“Mohabbat se hi toh kranti aayegi [Love will bring revolution].” 

The film features two promising debutantes. While Karan Mehta is promising, it is Alaya F who is convincing and emotive and delivers diverse roles with assurance. Credit where it is due, Amit Trivedi’s fresh, quirky, and eccentric album fosters the vibe Kashyap has tried to create. However, ultimately, this politically-charged romance sure does list lessons on love but forgets to celebrate it. 

Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat is now streaming on Netflix

Review Courtesy of Anjani Chadha

Feature image from Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat (2022) via IMDB