Kho Gaye Hum Kahan - a Review

I don't know if this is a good enough review, but I really managed to throw my phone away and not touch it for about an hour, so I suppose it made a strong enough point :)

With our toes dipped in the digital world and our phones in our hands, us teenagers are all a little lost. We've all dug self-sabotaging internet rabbit holes, stalking picture-perfect lives while sitting in our bed on a Friday night. We've all kept our phones locked up in our drawers and then eyed them like an out-of-reach box of expensive chocolate, and then within two minutes, ended up snatching them back like a greedy 10 year old on a sugar rush with no self-control. We've all thought that our pictures in our clothes matter more than how we feel in them. We've all looked at the screen, then at the mirror, hating and comparing and altering and perfecting. Feeling sorry for ourselves, yet doing it over and over and over.

And just like us are three 20-somethings, Ahana, Neil and Imaad. They're messy. They're angry. They either love too much or too little. They either feel too much or too little. To be honest, they're sort of the spirit animals of an entire generation of teenagers who don't know what hit them when they got a phone or installed a social media app.

It's very hard to draw comparisons in cinema that feel like a punch in the gut and a big bear hug, both at the same time. And that's exactly what Kho Gaye Hum Kahan was like. Instead of hating on us (we do that to ourselves enough already), it picked on our flaws and still empathized. I caught myself smirking at the screen a lot, knowing that this is too hauntingly accurate a representation of all our lives right now.

Because the protagonists, like us, are so, so tired, and so, so frustrated, ALL the time. The screens are killing them and they know it, but they still don't know how to stop (relatable, huh?). Each of them seem to personify different vices as the effects of social media - Ahana is insecure, so she builds a fake, two-dimensional life that she puts on every morning and shrugs off every night. Neil is filled with rage and trolls celebrities to project it. And Imaad struggles with intimacy, so he makes jokes about it instead. (Coping with humour about what scares us most is definitely in the top 10 most Gen Z things ever.)

The movie is almost a bang-on cinematic portrayal of this generation's relationship with social media. It's like watching yourself from a third person perspective. I still remember this one scene of Ahana stalking her ex's girlfriend (accompanied with a genius shot of a winding staircase) and then another one where she begins to dress up and take pictures just like her, feeding off of every comment, snatching her phone up at every notification. She was such a well-depicted character, it was almost hard to watch because of how real it was.

The characterization was great - every single one of them flawed to the core and easy to feel for. I kept rooting for their friendship. I cried when they fought and cried even more when they made up. It had that slice-of-life narrative that you know you can, at some point, relate to.

The cinematography, direction as well as performances were all brilliant - each scene aesthetically pleasing - and, not to mention, the soundtrack heavily head-bop worthy.

It's not by any means a perfect movie, nor did it have everything, really. I highly doubt it's the ZNMD or Dil Chahta Hai of our generation. Perhaps it would've been if it had emphasized on the portrayal of their friendship more than the individual characterization.

But because of that, it does excel at at least one thing - relatability. If I had to give you one reason to watch it, especially as a teenager, it's because it's essentially about you. About being absolutely lost in this confusing labyrinth of being young, with a phone in your hand and the world at your fingertips.

And sure, it gets a little preachy when it tries to pry your phone out of your hand like a doting parent. But overall, I don't think it tries to look down upon us, but simply acknowledges our often-unpleasant experiences in a way that heals more than it hurts.

And the overall message seems to be of how much more there is to life. How much more beyond a picture-perfect life and into a hilariously beautiful mess of real moments.