More than a decade ago,
a bunch of slackers from a not-so-glamourous part of Delhi gained a following for their specific brand of effortless, uncaring, slacker humour. Receiving a huge helping hand from some able casting decisions, Fukrey won over the younger audience with how earnestly it handled its nonsensical premise, with both the writers and the actors going all out to convince us that the lead duo could really decipher nonsense and win big.
The second installment felt like it overstayed its welcome, simply by removing these wayward youth from their comfort zone, and into the bigger world of crime and politics. The charm of "being special but in a weird way" did not feel authentic, and it showed.
Hoping that the third time will be the charm, director Mrighdeep Singh Lamba assembles his Fukrey gang for yet another madcap adventure, hoping to recapture the vibe that made the first movie such a fan favourite.
The gang gets involved with politics on a much deeper level in Fukrey 3, as Choocha (Varun Sharma) unwittingly enters an election battle against the slackers' perennial nemesis Bholi Punjaban (Richa Chadha). Mistakenly agreeing to demands from his (now) followers, Choocha ends up entangling his Fukrey gang into a confrontation with the water mafia of Delhi.
Led astray by their enemies and stranded in South Africa, Hunny (Pulkit Samrat), Lali (Manjot Singh), and Panditji (Pankaj Tripathi) discover that when one door closes, another one opens - and it is of course their perennially clueless friend again at the heart of everything.
Fukrey 3 starts out exceptionally well, with a sing-song recap of the events of the first two movies helping its audience brush up on their knowledge. Unfortunately, it begins to go downhill immediately afterwards. Fukrey as a series needed a major overhaul if it was to stay relevant, and the makers decided to go for the exact opposite - they doubled (tripled?) down on the inane antics while also trying (unsuccessfully, in our humble opinion) to throw in a serious issue into the mix.
The problem with the Fukrey series became apparent in the second movie, and has always been this - the innocence of fresh-out-of-school slackers becomes less charming when they are full-grown adults. Especially so in a film that employs the usage of toilet humour (literally, and liberally). It is a film that wants to be seen as a family entertainer but is at the same time obsessed with toilets, and bodily waste. Even the central "aha" moment is now a physical phenomenon - gone are the dreams and the "déjà chu" - we now learn about hydrocarbons and see urine and sweat combine to form a petrol-alternative biofuel.
Choocha's willingness to do anything makes him a great asset, but used unimaginatively all it ends up doing is make him look like a crutch. Fukrey 3 hobbles lazily onwards on this crutch, while also further dismantling its dynamic duo despite trying to not repeat the mistakes of the second film. One of the most important things that made the first film work was how Hunny and Choocha played off each other to win big from the latter's prophetic dreams - which wasn't recreated in its sequel as only Choocha could have a "déjà chu" moment, and it required no input from Hunny. Fukrey 3 tries to remedy that by involving Hunny again as one of the contributors in their version of "hydrocarbon" - but it is a physical act that doesn't let the duo (albeit planned) riff off each other. This being the longest movie yet in the Fukrey franchise (a 147-minute running time) doesn't help, either.
Varun Sharma is at the front and centre of everything in Fukrey 3, but his character's cluelessness is getting less and less entertaining as time passes. Pulkit Samrat is relegated to being a bystander at times, while Manjot Singh's character is still trying to find out where he fits in. Richa Chadha seems to be tired of her character, and seems to be on autopilot for most of the film. Pankaj Tripathi is easily the standout performer as he delivers his non-sequiturs with word-perfect nonchalance.
Abhishek Nailwal's score seems adequate, but the songs from Tanishk Bagchi / Abhishek Nailwal / Sumeet Bellary don't really elevate the mood. None of the other songs is particularly memorable, and the expected romantic song (Ambarsariya in Fukrey, Ishq De Fanniyar in Fukrey Returns) is as absent as the earlier films' female cast. The interesting exception is the third variation of the title song, called Ve Fukrey, a marked departure from its previous versions as it opts for being melodious instead of high energy.
Fukrey 3 drags for far too long with repetitive and ultimately unfunny attempts at humour. The only people we'd recommend watching it to, in theatres, are the Fukrey brand's diehard fans (who we suspect don't need that in the first place). For the rest, maybe wait till it is out on OTT (won't be too long as the film clearly shows Prime Video as a partner). And even then, only if you are really, really bored.