Nadaaniyan, the latest Netflix rom-com, is generating buzz not for its inventive storytelling but for what it symbolizes: the launchpad for budding star Ibrahim Ali Khan. Directed by Shauna Gautam and produced by Karan Johar’s Dharmatic Entertainment, the film attempts to resonate with the Instagram generation, but fails miserably when it stumbles over its clichés and dated narratives.
At its heart, Nadaaniyan is about Pia Jai Singh, represented by Khushi Kapoor—a stylish socialite from South Delhi—and Arjun Mehta, played by Ibrahim Ali Khan, who embodies the aspirational middle-class dreamer from Greater Noida. Their contrasting worlds shatter conventions of rich versus poor, but only cursorily, as they find themselves entangled when Pia, desperate to maintain the facade of being taken, offers Arjun Rs 25,000 a week to pretend to be her boyfriend.
The essence of their relationship—which starts as contracted roleplay—has the buoyancy of classic rom-com charm but quickly devolves. Arjun’s cheeky remark echoes the film’s lack of self-awareness, where he quips, "Now, a robot is going to teach us what ‘real’ people do in love?" Such dialogues capture the film's failure to convey relatable dimensions of romance.
The juxtaposition of characters is illustrated through their financial backgrounds. It’s noteworthy how Arjun, whose father is simply a doctor, is presented as struggling to earn enough to retire his parents—an absurd notion when placed within the glitzy milieu of Karan Johar's storytelling. Similarly, Pia, who shops at luxury stores and boasts of privilege, grapples with superficial judgments. Her introduction is marked by her voiceover, stating, "I look like the poster princess of privilege and entitlement (it doesn’t matter who I am on the inside)." This line is supposed to resonate but instead seems hollow, as the film fails to grasp the truth behind her character.
Rather than offer nuanced portrayals, director Shauna Gautam steers the narrative to fit tired stereotypes. The emotional range showcased by characters feels artificial—disconnected from reality—an effect enhanced by the film’s overproduced visuals, which resemble more of an ad than sincere storytelling.
Despite its shortcomings, Ibrahim Ali Khan’s performance is noted as commendable for a debutant. Reviewers agree he has charisma reminiscent of his father, Saif Ali Khan, showcasing raw emotion, particularly when breaking down before his father, Jugal Hansraj’s character. Commenting on Ibrahim’s portrayal, Devesh Sharma from Filmfare noted, "He possesses a good screen presence alright and shows genuine promise as a future star."
Yet, the chemistry between the leads, which is pivotal for any romance, appears strained. Critics lament how they fail to ignite chemistry, drawing parallels with iconic couples from previous eras. This absence of connection detracts substantially from immersion, causing audiences to long for the magnetic pairs of yesteryears.
Supporting performances by seasoned actors like Suniel Shetty and Mahima Chaudhry are touted as providing necessary gravitas, yet even they cannot save Nadaaniyan's lackluster narrative. An exchange between Shetty and Chaudhary reflects strained familial tensions, adding depth to their characters, but sadly, these moments are fleeting within the overall flat execution.
While some viewers may find comfort in the film’s glossy delivery, adhering to light-hearted teen rom-com formats, it lacks transformative power. Instead of digging deep, Nadaaniyan skims the surface and breathes life only to the tropes of high school romance glossed over with Instagram filters.
Critics have pointed out the film’s ineptness at tackling contemporary themes meaningfully, like the snare of social media anxieties. What should feel relatable risks coming off as absurd, emphasizing how out of touch the film is with Gen Z realities. The cinematic experience hastily substitutes genuine character arcs with glossy aesthetics, presenting character issues without the grounding they demand.
With all its industry connections and touted new-age charm, Nadaaniyan serves more as fodder for the social media generation rather than as art. It raises concerns about what it means to be successful within modern Bollywood—relying on star kids rather than fresh voices ready to explore the nuances of love and life.
Overall, Nadaaniyan feels less like a gratifying romp and more like the brisk foreshadowing of what the future may hold—films targeting youth culture but forgetting to include genuine substance. Such empty narratives undermine not just cinematic potential but stigmatize the very connections we seek to depict when telling love stories.