Doctor G is a cliche. The first half of the movie is a depressing snoozefest, full of awful jokes that make no one laugh, clichéd characters, and a terrible, 1980s-style funky background music that is completely out of date. The post-intermission section follows, and it feels like a completely different movie. You’ll feel a lump in your throat at a few points in this one.
The Ayushmann Khurrana formula is used to the fullest extent in this coming-of-age drama. In spite of this, the movie is entertaining (in large part) because of Ayushmann and Shefali Shah’s performances.
The hero’s transformation from a loud youngster to a sensitive man is the central theme of the entire movie, including all of its characters. After temporarily appearing to dump him, his fiancée completely vanishes from view. He is the lone, very reluctant guy in the class, and his new classmates, notably the bubbly Fatima Siddiqui (Rakul Preet Singh) and a group of other confident women, rag him only so he may get better. His superior, Shefali Shah, continuously teaches him with the same goal. His closest friend, who floats through the film with an oddly bare torso, is around long enough to impart self-awareness on him. And his mother (Sheeba Chaddha), the lone person who tries to live on her own, receives criticism.
The movie Doctor G fits Ayushmann Khurrana’s style. It centres on a man from a tiny village who finds himself in an odd circumstance. He gradually comes to realise that there is more to life than what other people think, and with the support of his family and friends, he gets over his hesitations and learns to accept his shortcomings. I just gave the Doctor G storyline. Or is it the storyline from Chandigarh Kare Aashiqui, Vicky Donor, or Badhaai Ho? You see what I mean. Gynecology is the taboo topic here, and Ayushmann is the lone male physician at this ostensibly all-female medical college in Bhopal.
The movie makes it quite evident that the protagonist is sexist. Even if it doesn’t want you to like Dr. Uday Gupta, it does want you to be able to relate to him given the middle-class, small-town, patriarchal environment you have been exposed to. He is therefore not likeable but undoubtedly relatable. Ayushmann handles the rest. He finds it too simple to put himself in someone else’s shoes these days, but unhappily, it has become monotonous. When the same template is offered each year with a different garnish, it lacks freshness.
Doctor G falls flat when its comes to comedy
The social comedy falls flat when it comes to comedy. The jokes that mimic childbirth on a man and make fun of female or male anatomy are getting a little old and juvenile by this point. The first hour of the movie is cringe-inducing, and you start to question whether there is a purpose to it all. The instant Shefali Shah appears on screen, that cringefest comes to a complete halt. As the head of the gynaecology department, Dr. Nandini, she is just as frightening and endearing as we could imagine. Wish there had been more of her and less of whatever the writers were attempting to pass off as comedy.
As Uday reluctantly enrols in his college and is taunted by all of the seniors there, the movie presents a multitude of characters. The majority of those characters then vanish, never to be seen again. It’s an editing mistake that renders multiple scenes irrelevant and makes it difficult to follow along. In the midst of all, Ayushmann breezes through, despite the fact that he, too, appears to be becoming weary with what the script has to give. With the exception of a few potent passages where she shows Uday the mirror, Rakul Preet Singh, who plays his senior (and potential love interest), Dr. Fatima, is decent but adds very nothing to the narrative. However, a lot of these moments are ruined by the ostentatious and overly clever speech.
Despite its histrionic ending, Doctor G tries hard to accomplish the subjects like gender inequality and medical ethics. Which is courageous yet, there is something amiss that an audience want in his prescription to watch an entertainer.