Chillar Party is a story about our flawed world, a world run by busy, stressed, selfish, crabby adults — men and women who don’t have time for small niceties and small people. To fix this, the film offers a simple solution: We all must listen to kids more. Invite them for discussions, consider their point of view and do as they say, especially when it’s about stuff like child labour, animal rights and, of course, pet names.

In Chillar Party we are concerned mainly with eight waist-high boys — they are a gang, sort of members of a club where they share their troubles, bitch about parents and call each other names: Ramashankar becomes Akram because he is a left-arm fast bowler; Arjun is Encyclopaedia because he knows everything; Balwan becomes Jhangiya because he doesn’t wear panties; Laxman is Second Hand because all his clothes are his brother’s hand-me-downs; Lucky becomes Panauti because whatever he says, the exact opposite takes place; and there’s Silencer who doesn’t talk, Shaolin the karate kid and Aflatoon who is forever enrolling for classes — skating, dancing, tennis, etc. — but returning bruised and broken.
They all live in a housing society, Chandan Nagar, and go to the same school every morning on their tiny bicycles. The other residents of Chandan Nagar, which is run on the whims of an evil colony secretary, are an assortment of parents, annoying uncles, a hoity-toity child model (Tooth Paste) and a strapping but sad young man who squeaks in a woman’s voice.
The Chillar Party has a cricket team which always loses to the team of a neighbouring colony. Our boys hate those better cricketers, but most of all they hate a Pomeranian in their colony, Loose Motion, who sullies their pitch daily. Our boys would hate to see another dog in Chandan Nagar.
So, obviously, a dog arrives. This one is a stray fellow, Bhidu, and his owner is a boy their age, Fatka, who has been hired to clean the colony cars. Fatka arrives, makes himself a cosy little home in an abandoned blue vintage care and goes about his work every morning.
The Chillar Party is irked and wants the dog out. But, of course, since it’s a stray dog and a child labourer versus school-going, privileged kids, the Chillar Party members come around and fall in love with the dog and its owner. Soon, evil forces conspire to threaten the dog and his master, presenting an emotional cause for the kids to rally around and prove in a tear-inducing climax scene that they are greater than all the adults put together.
Chillar Party is long and fantastic, but it is also a lot of fun and has a strong and warm emotional core. Though the film sometimes scampers around just to deliver a moral science lesson or two, the boys hold it together. Chillar Party works because of its talented little actors and sensitive direction by Vikas Bahl and Nitesh Tiwari. All the kids are naughty and wise with distinctive quirks and troubles. They have funny lines, emotional scenes, some dancing and enough opportunities to act smart and win us over. The film’s highpoint is a hysterical Chaddi March, a smiling nod to Salman Khan, one of the film’s producers.
Chillar Party has a serious subtext about morally repugnant gated communities and middle class’ double standards, but it doesn’t harangue too much because the kids are our saviours. The viewer here is not with the adults. In the first scene itself, when kids share their problems with us, we become honorary members of the Chillar Party. We see the world through their eyes, and we stand with them, helpless and dying to hug them, when their parents are being unreasonable, mean, or just plain wimps. The boys’ victory in the end is our victory and it sets us guilt-free.
All the little actors in Chillar Party are stars. It would not be nice to take names, but some shine very bright. My favourite was little Jhangiya played by Naman Jain.
PS: Don't run off before the end credits. Wait for Bollywood's best item boy.