While the first half is smooth and keeps you involved, the second half falters at many points and the climax seems too convenient and hurriedly wrapped up.

While the central plot offers much promise, the film in itself stretches it too far and tends to get slow, meandering and repetitive at many points. What could work against the film is also the heavy Haryanvi lingo-peppered dialogues, which could be really difficult to decipher for the audience that doesn’t belong to the Northern belt.

This movie is not just about a Shah Rukh Khan fan. It is also for a lot of his fans, who have been pining to see him the way he is in this film. After a considerable gap, the real SRK is back with a fabulous combination of two roles; one playing a young, ebullient fan reminiscent of his vulnerable younger days and the other playing the superstar that he’s today, with the charisma and power of his personality all intact.

What doesn’t work for the film is the constant onslaught of in-film marketing. Though it is done pretty cleverly at some points, too much is always a bad thing. The other thing is that the plot tends to get unnecessary gimmicky at points. Also, one wishes that the other characters like Kia’s mother (Swaroop Sampat) as the liberated woman who runs 5 NGOs and Kabir’s father, Mr. Bansal (Rajit Kapur as a successful businessman) were not confined to such tight boxes.

Watch this. It might remind of your own family issues and make you a bit squirmish but is also largely feel good and entertaining.

The film with its tongue firmly in its cheek content, gives a timely, strong message of how blind faith and mob mentality can be easily manipulated by anybody in this country. No business like god business, says Dhamroo in a matter-of-fact manner. Even though this business will continue thriving in this country, kudos to Tiwari for saying it as it is through this film.

One must admit here that Jha surprises with his ease in front of the camera and decent acting abilities, but quite often the camera focuses a little too indulgently on him. Jha yet again successfully revisits the world he’s so familiar with, the rampant hooliganism, the fascinating and colourful lingo that we are all familiar with, largely thanks to Jha’s earlier films. At two hours forty minutes, the film is a bit too long and tends to get predictable at many parts.

Credit goes to Mehta and writer Apurva Asrani for etching out his character with such precision. Rajkummar Rao, who has successfully adapted the Malayali accent to suit journalist Sebastian’s role, lends good support. The admirable ease with which they relate to each other shows us the magic that can happen when two good actors come together on screen.

Even as I am writing this review, I still have a lump in my throat. Such is the power of humanity, kindness and good cinema. Please don’t miss this one.

Watch it for its beauty (cinematography by Anay Goswami), music (Amit Trivedi) and a few and far in between tender, touching moments.