Ashanti in a silent film – Beyond Bollywood

Telugu filmmaker G. Ashok’s sophomore Hindi film, a silent slapstick comedy, starts off dull but redeems itself in the second half. Nushrratt Bharuccha shines in her dual avatars.

Rating: ⭐️⭐️💫 (2. 5/ 5 )

By Mayur Lookhar

In a garrulous world, cinema too is often overhyped. There must have been times when you felt like muting a bad film in the theatre. Instead, why not watch a good silent film? After all, actions speak louder than words.             

Believe it or not, in 2025 Bollywood has given us a silent film. Cinema, after all, began in silence. India’s journey started with Raja Harishchandra (1913), followed by the first talkie, Alam Ara (1931). Ufff Yeh Siyapaa (2025), Telugu filmmaker G. Ashok’s sophomore Hindi feature, unfolds as a silent comedy set in a small zilla of Uttar Pradesh. Shot in 2021 and wrapped in 2022, the film has finally arrived on the big screen.

Story

Annoyed by her husband’s constant wandering eye for their glamorous neighbour, Pushpa (Nushrratt Bharuccha) walks out of the house with her son. Left alone, Kesarilal Singh (Sohum Shah) begins to daydream about getting closer to Kamini (Nora Fatehi). And with someone like Fatehi next door, even a sage like Vishwamitra might have been tempted. What begins as a chance to relive his bachelorhood soon turns into the most turbulent phase of his life. Within two days, he discovers not one but two bodies in his house. The first resembles his wife, though she isn’t dressed like a traditional homemaker. A day later, to his shock, the Bijli Vibhag employee finds a dead man under his roof, plunging him into deeper chaos.

Screenplay and direction

Though a silent film, the story thrives on the chaos unfolding in Kesarilal’s home. Not a word is spoken, yet his expressions say it all. The plot is promising, leaning on slapstick humour to keep the audience engaged. The first half, however, feels dull and forced, leaving viewers puzzled, perhaps exactly as G. Ashok intended. But all that frustration and confusion pays off in a hilarious, high-voltage second half, where the mystery of the two bodies unravels and a stream of quirky characters make a beeline for Kesarilal’s Amritpal Apartments.

The hallmark of a good silent film lies in how actions and visuals become its language, allowing viewers to grasp the plot and subplots without effort. At first, you might find yourself blank-faced, but the chaos in the second half leaves you in splits. Sure, a few things may remain unexplained, but that’s the beauty of silent cinema: it conceals as much as it reveals. After a shaky start, G. Ashok seems firmly in control in the latter half. The role of editor Chetan M. Solanki, too, must not be undermined.

Acting

Sohum Shah is known for his unconventional choices, as seen in films like Krazy and Tumbbad. He slips into the skin of Kesarilal with ease, unfazed about flaunting his paunch, sporting a bushy moustache, and making the character relatable to the common man. Yet, at times, Shah tries a little too hard to impress and ends up hamming his way through.

Nushrratt Bharuchaa can be equally frustrating, and as Pushpa, her performance borders on the ham. To be fair, early on Pushpa had nothing but tears to offer.  As Rajesh Khanna said in Amar Prem (1972), “Pushpa, I hate tears”. 

Give her swag and wings to fly, and Nushrratt Bharuccha can be a real badass on screen. From the moment we see the dead woman who resembles Pushpa but is styled in urban chic, Bharuccha completely transforms, captivating us with her expressions and body language. Desi silent comedies often carry shades of Chaplin, but it’s rare to see an actress pull it off. Here, Bharuccha genuinely surprises. The situation may be grim, yet she never drops her guard, balancing sharp deadpan expressions with a disarming, innocent smile. Though she’s often struggled with consistency in the past, she impresses in both avatars here. The Pushpa who returns, however, shows a marked change in her face, hinting at a possible nose job to look like Kamini and win back her husband. Since it’s a Luv Ranjan production, the woman is again expected to bend to please her man, but that doesn’t take anything away from Bharuccha’s competent performance.

A silent film makes things easier for Canadian-Moroccan Nora Fatehi, as she doesn’t have to worry about dialogue and can rely on her striking screen presence. Through Kamini’s story, though, we’re reminded that not every pretty face is innocent.

Sharib Hashmi falters early on, but he barely has any screen time in the first half. It’s in the latter half that he comes into his own, drawing guffaws as the mute Gungra.

Omkar Kapoor plays a UP cop who idolizes Chulbul Pandey, carrying the same swagger in his body language. At first, the protruding lip seems like a paan habit, but it’s later revealed to be a wound from when Daroga Hasmukh fell flat on his face. With his own ulterior motives in Amritlal Apartments, Inspector Hasmukh is brought to life convincingly by Kapoor.

Music / Technical Aspects

Silent, but never soundless. A. R. Rahman steps in with a handful of tracks and, more crucially, the background score that gives the film its pulse. The opening notes don’t quite land, but by the second half the BGM locks in perfectly, elevating the chaos on screen and syncing beautifully with the action.

The film’s creative and technical strengths truly shine in the second half, with Nuthan Nagraj’s cinematography being a sight to behold. Among the standout moments is the scene where the dead woman is carried and dragged in a bag, Bharuccha can’t physically express the pain, yet her expressions, captured so deftly on camera, feel immersive. The break-in by Sharib Hashmi and Pushpa’s doppelgänger into Kesarilal’s home is also well shot. Several sequences play out as hallucinations, and the one where Kesarilal imagines himself as Vikram and Pushpa as Betaal is both cleverly staged and hilariously executed.

Final word

For a film set in Uttar Pradesh, the Punjabi word siyapaa might seem out of place. Yet with all the action and drama unfolding in Kesarilal’s Amritlal Apartments, even the cowbelt would agree it’s pure siyapaa. The film has its flaws, most notably a disappointing first half, but the humour and chaos told through the lens of a silent film make for a unique viewing experience. Forget Hindi cinema; it’s hard to even recall the last time we saw a silent film. Amidst all the noise and hype around us, the 116 minutes of Ufff Yeh Siyapaa deserve a moment of quiet appreciation.

Watch the video review below.