Band, baaja & Bittoo

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Bittoo Boss is a love story that is desperate to be different, specifically from Band Baaja Baaraat. And it is; it’s not half as good.

Despite the similarities — most of the action takes place around weddings and couples, lots of naach-gana and gaudy clothes, amusing uncles and aunties, hero with a sharp, charming tongue and on-location shooting — Bittoo Boss’ real concern is not so much the emotional state of its lead couple, but the moral degeneration of a generation. Bittoo and Bittoo Boss spend half their time lamenting the death of innocence caused by India’s porn cottage industry.
The film opens with a lot of enthusiasm, and the crew’s burst of creative energy carries the first half rather nicely. Though nothing much happens, we meet interesting characters in funny situations — all devices to establish Bittoo’s professional and moral credentials. But the crew runs out of steam by interval, after which the film sinks into a predictable melodrama.

In gorgeous Anandpur, Punjab, we are in a shaadi-wala ghar where the mood is unusually sombre. Everything is ready, but on pause. They are all waiting for Bittoo (Pulkit Samrat), the V.D.O. Shooter. The moment he arrives, on a happy red scooter that’s decked up like a truck, everyone perks up.
Bittoo, a simple, a small-town boy who is proud to be the best videographer in town, doesn’t just capture the proceedings in his camera, he directs them — engaging with bua, massi, tai and, of course, the mandatory item, or, as they say in Punjab, katto, as if each were the heroine of the movie he’s making. By way of an entertaining montage where girls and boys urge Bittoo, “Meri le-le na... nachte hue, Tune meri nahin li, Bittoo...,” we figure that Bittoo often obliges, with a goofy smile.
Into this shaadi frenzy skips in Mrinalini (Amrita Pathak) and Bittoo is smitten, despite the fact that she lives in a mansion, is educated and can speak English.
Bittoo’s world, where he returns to after shooting shaadi, mundan, kirtan videos, is a small house with one computer where Vermaji edits the tapes and Bittoo’s dad screams out moral lessons from behind a door.
Verma is a reluctant editor. He thinks shaadi videos are a waste of time when even amateur post-shaadi videos could make them rich overnight. Bittoo thinks it’s plain wrong to shoot such films, to watch them and, of course, to live off them. He is happy being the star of every celebration in Anandpur.
And now anyway, when he’s off work, he has to chase Mrinalini. He introduces himself as a kalakar, she calls him ganwar. But then she has a change of heart and decides to take his shaadi video to annoying Aditya who heads Sypsy TV. Aditya calls Bittoo “sadak chap” and Bittoo tells him a thing or two. Mrinalini, aghast, tells Bittoo to be practical, to apologise to the head of the TV channel. To which, Bittoo answers, “Aise head pe na main apne geele kachche sukhata hoon.” This spunky, unyielding and egoistical code is super cool, and Bittoo wins us over. Mrinalini, on the other hand, leaves in a huff, challenging him to become bada aadmi.
Bittoo takes up the challenge and this is where Bittoo Boss gets boring, disappointing. Bittoo travels to Palika Bazar to shop for little cameras that can be concealed, and then to Shimla, the honeymooners’ paradise, to be at the centre of contrived situations that are potentially corrupting. What transpires in the hotel rooms was interesting, but not what Bittoo got up to. Suffice to say, bad situations with bad people are opportunities God sends Bittoo’s way to be goody-two shoes.
The high point of this low point is taxi driver Vicky (Ashok Pathak) who attaches himself to Bitto, as a scout and apprentice.

First-time writer-director Supavitra Babul had an interesting concept and for a while it promises a romp through uncharted territory. Supavitra also takes care of little details and dialogue and manages to create a Punjabi world that is real and inviting. Wherever he takes us, he makes sure we are in the company of delightful characters. Despite a few inconsistent dialogues and episodes, the film has some super scenes, especially the ones with wicked Vicky.
But Bittoo Boss’ first love is Bittoo and it won’t allow anyone to put a crimp in his style. So Bittoo is never really vulnerable to the deadly blue forces, and all situations and characters are reduced to milestones on Bittoo’s trek to the moral high ground where simpers Mrinalini. This focus on Bittoo and putting him in skit-like situations gives Bittoo Boss the personality of a sitcom.
When Pulkit Samrat says “sesky”, it’s cute. But his acting matches his hair — goofy, and his dance, though fast and neat, lacks mood.
Amrita Pathak has the looks and talents for sitcoms; Ashok Pathak, on the other hand, should be on every casting director’s speed dial.