‘Titu Ambani’: A Small Film with a Pulsating Heart and Fabulous Performances

Titu Ambani

Cast: Tushar Pandey, Deepika Singh, Raghuvir Yadav, Sapna Sand, Virendra Saxena, Samta Sagar, Priitam Jaiswal, Brijendra Kala

Direction: Rohit Raj Goyal

Rating: **1/2

Bollywood likes travelling to the mofussil and small towns of India. Earlier, the industry used to make trips to the hinterland in search of gangs, guns, zamindars, baghis and dabangs, but for a while now it has been traveling out of metros in search of pyaar, parivaar and their issues. 

Dum Lagake Haisha, Motichoor Chaknachoor, Chandigarh Kare Aashiqui, Shubh Mangal Zayada Savdhan, Stree and the recent Jan Hit Mein Jaari are all love stories set in towns that, when viewed from busy cities with nuclear families and singletons in high-rise buildings, seem to exist not just in another time, but in another universe. 

Theirs is a world of close-knit, garrulous families where mummyjis often wear nighties with a dupatta, and fathers wear a worried look.

The reason why so many films have been making the journey to India’s quiet, laid-back towns with narrow lanes is not just for the setting that gives old stories a new texture, but because there is a twinkle of truth in these stories about young dreams clashing with old concerns. The issues here feel real because the characters, warm and charming, feel real.

Titu Ambani, written and directed by Rohit Raj Goyal, is a nice addition to films set in cities where fathers are shopkeepers, mothers are always serving tea and cleaning bartans, and where life’s significant decisions are taken after loud arguments.

Shot and set in glorious Udaipur, we are often on the banks of Udai Sagar Lake where we meet Titu. The ‘Ambani’ in the film’s title is not his surname, it’s his ambition.   

Titu Shukla (Tushar Pandey), the second son of photo-frame dukan-wale Shuklaji (Raghubir Yadav), is the sort of not-yet-employed young lad in a Tier 2 Indian city who runs mummyji’s errands on his bike, pockets some change and, en route to meeting his girlfriend, discusses business plans with his bestie who is like a permanent pillion rider stuck to his back. All the business plans, as Titu visualises and narrates them, seem like a sure, short flight to prosperity, bangla, gaadi, expensive suits. Except that, they are not.  

As is often the case with most Titus in Indian families, catering is Titu’s first bright idea to make a quick buck and become the next Ambani. And as is also often the case, the business venture is launched after many arguments, warnings and cautionary tales, but with his father’s hard-earned money and some udhaar.  

Titu’s girlfriend, Mousmi Trivedi (Deepika Singh), is a sweet, sensible girl who has a government job. She takes care of her family but is also under pressure to meet prospective husbands. Mousmi can’t take her mother’s well-meaning taunts, that they have heard so much about Titu, but have never seen him.

Titu feels no urgency or responsibility. 

A business ends before it’s even begun, leaving in its trail a truckload of leftover food, debt and a father who is as angry as he is emotionally fatigued. 

Another get-rich-quick business is set to launch. Shuklaji refuses to help. A wedding takes place. And Titu now has a new source of money to finance his hare-brained schemes. But Mousmi has responsibilities towards her parents and very little money to spare for Titu’s expensive experiments.   

Titu Ambani casts us as the elders of the family and we watch with concern when Titu takes money out of Mousmi’s wallet, and when her frail father gives all his savings for a clearly fraudulent chit-fund scheme.

The film is best described by the lines of that unforgettable song in Mani Ratnam’s 1992 film, Roja – “Dil hai chota sa, choti si asha.”

Titu Ambani is a well-made movie powered by a very talented cast. It has a pulsating little heart and the desire to tell a sweet story about a boy who dreams of getting rich quick, a girl who wants to take care of her parents even after she is married, and a father who is exhausted by the many money-wasting schemes of his son and the public humiliation these inevitably lead to.

Though the film’s story and plotting are not original, there is still an engaging freshness and warmth to the narrative because of its dialogue, characters, acting and soundtrack. 

The film’s dialogues are funny, the drama is mellow and the sharp taunts assigned to Yadav, Sapna Sand and Pandey give the film punch. 

Goyal, who directed Star Plus’ very popular serial, Diya Aur Baati Hum, has the skill to create spaces where the film settles down quickly – in this case the homes of the Shuklas and Trivedis. Both feel like familiar homes of distant relatives we have spent time in.

Deepika Singh, who played IPS Sandhya Kothari Rathi in Diya Aur… and is married to Goyal in real like, plays the sweet, principled, feminist Mosumi here. She is very good. But the stars of Titu Ambani are Tushar Pandey, Raghuvir Yadav, Sapna Sand (who plays his mother), and Samta Sagar (who plays Mosumi’s mummyji). 

Lanky Tushar Pandey’s fast-speaking, I’ve-got-it-all-under-control Titu is the sort of boy who seems all decent and nice from afar, but is frustratingly lazy and irresponsible up-close. Everyone connected with him must carry the burden of his idiocy till he climbs the ladder of stupidity to the point of no return.

Titu Ambani works not because every Indian family has a Titu, but because every Indian family also has a father like Shuklaji and women like Mousmi who keep undoing the damage. Though they are often on the periphery, quietly doing their thing, it’s actually their story – of struggle and suffering – in which the Titus of the world pretend to be the stars. 

Raghuvir Yadav brings to life a hapless, worried father like only he can, and Tushar Pandey’s Titu is pitch-perfect. 

I was pleasantly surprised by Pandey’s confident performance that is almost flawless. It feels like if we were to visit Udaipur, we’d meet him at some chauraha.  

PS: Titu Ambani has a fabulous four-song soundtrack. All the songs have an old-world charm to them, but “Badal Gaye Tum” with its joyous melody, and “Mr Malang,” with the catchy club sound of the ’50s and ’60s, are excellent.