Coffee, sweeter than a hundred toffees — she invites him over at night for a cup. And he’s as frisky as a pup. So while she’s in the kitchen, he strips stark naked. One look at him and she goes, “Yaaaaargh! What do you think you’re up to?” Ha ha.

Now that’s a genuine guffaw-out-loud moment in editor-turned-director Bela Bhansali Sehgal’s Shirin Farhad Ki Toh Nikal Padi. Located in the rarefied world of the Parsi community — Mumbai’s Cusrow Baug ostensibly — the rom-com about a 45-year-old singleton finally finding his true love, has its spicy morsels. Incidentally, a similar middle-aged attraction between a Parsi couple, both unmarried, was evidenced a couple of years ago in a National Award-winning short film by Akshay Roy. In addition, some familiar elements can be traced most obviously to Basu Chatterji’s Khatta Meetha. Oh well.

The most remarkable aspect about Sehgal’s Parsiana is that it goes gaga over a middle-aged couple’s love story, caring a whit for top star names and saleable market ingredients. Yaaay!Naaaay, though, to the overall impact of the story-screenplay which sets up a conflict which is too tame to be true. The villain of the piece happens to be, if you please, an illegal water storage tank. Farhad’s overwrought mother (Daisy Irani, cute as a button) wants it to stay. The Parsi trust’s termagant doesn’t, and who should this meanie be but Shirin (Farah Khan)? “You will marry her over my dead body! It’s either me or that… that woman,” Mom decrees. Meanwhile, grandma (Shammi) offers Farhad a shoulder to cry on. Dikra, dikra, it’ll all work out. Truly, such is life dearies.

Does it? Farhad-Shirin guzzle some more mugs of coffee. Utterly caffeinated, he adores his belated beloved even more on discovering that she’s remained a bachelorette to look after her dad, who’s been in a coma. Full stop. What now? Anger, recriminations, pangs of depression and what nought! Sigh.

Next: The workaholic Firdaus stops rushing off to his job of a salesman at Tem Tem, a bra and panty shop. Sniff, sniff. Surely, an adult conversation between the mamma’s boy and daddy’s girl could sort out the deadlock. Sorry, but the script hasn’t yet subjected you to fart jokes, an utterly contrived interlude in a hospital, and ewwwww, a parody of vintage SRK and Salman chartbusters, not to forget a melancholic montage song which has become de rigueur ever since Aamir Khan brooded on New Zealand’s streets for Dil Chahta Hai. Gee, there you are going through Tanhaayee tanhayee…all over again.

Inevitably, if it’s the Parsis there must be much ado about dhansak, sali botti, Duke’s mangola and lagan noo bhonu. As for the nutty old man who’s hoping to woo Mrs Indira Gandhi, please! The persistent stereotyping of Parsis does continue is endurable, essentially because of the project’s marvellous, throwaway moments. Like Shirin’s first awkward meeting with her mom-in-law-to-be, the couple exchanging and re-exchanging notes about their favourite things, Farhad’s plea to his beloved, “You can break anything in the world you want… but never break my heart.” Mushy but emotively effective. And compared to the rest of the script, the climax is well-conceived and executed.

Largely, Sehgal’s directorial style tends to be anachronistic, completely out of touch with the slickness of today’s times. A top shot of a family at a dinner table and the stray use of split screens are jarring. The background music is patently obtrusive. No honours go out to the cinematography department; the set décor on the plusher side for the film’s milieu, is at least easy on the eyes. As for the songs, huh, there were a couple of them, weren’t there? Eminently forgettable.

Unarguably, the two lead performers carry the enterprise on their shoulders. It’s wonderful to see Boman Irani, adding shades to his characterisation which could have emerged far too wimpy. Be it his diction or body lingo, he’s spot-on. Auspiciously, too, choreographer-director-turned-actress Farah Khan is sheer delight. Effortless and saucy, you want to see her act again. And again.

All its pros and cons considered, Shirin Farhad Ki Toh Nikal Padi is worth a visit for its intermittent sensitive moments. And for Farah Khan and Boman Irani who rock… and roll.