Director: Sudhir Mishra

Hindi cinema’s It Decade, the 50s, was full of grand tales of passion and romance, tragedy kings and drama queens, lambent black-and-white-and glowing sepia tones. Heroes wore their hair in artful puffs; the bee-hive bouffants of the heroines were still some years away.

For nostalgia junkies, Khoya Khoya Chand should have been pure pleasure. Sudhir Mishra’s story of wannabe star Nikhat and work-in-progress poet-director Zafar, is wonderfully atmospheric, with its just-right re-recreation of the period with its sets-within-the-sets, the costumes, the lilting music. But at no point do we completely suspend disbelief, the way we did with the director's superb anthem of the 70s, Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi. At no point do we fall hopelessly in love with either Nikhat (Soha), or Zafar ( Shiney).

That’s got less to do with wondering who the story is based on: is it Guru Dutt and Waheeda, or Madhubala? Zafar is full of angst and longing, just the way Guru Dutt’s character was in Kagaz Ke Phool: the former’s first movie fails, and he staggers up to the door, flinging it open, bringing to mind the iconic scene in that movie. And Nikhat could have been a mix of any of the leading actresses of that era, paraded in front of lustful producers as young girl, ‘compromising’ (read, ‘sleeping with’) to keep the poorhouse at bay, and an ambitious ammi happy.

It’s got everything to do with the fact that Soha, who is the fulcrum, doesn’t cut it. She’s pretty, she’s vivacious, but she’s not a 50s girl. Her body language is contemporary; she even, horrors, falters with her Urdu. And second fiddle Shiney is not given enough to do, though he shows flashes of the Lucknawi nawabi andaaz he’s meant to, in a couple of well-executed scenes.

It’s the others who bring the movie much-needed heft. Back after her disastrous debut, Sonya Jehan as the capricious, clinging-to-the-top-but-slipping Ratanbala is very good: she has the adaa, and the namak that Soha lacks. Rajat Kapoor plays fading-but-still-dashing star Prem Kumar, complete with a sharp, thin moustache, with innate style. Vinay Pathak's had a good year, and tops it with his layered writer-hanger-on role. But this is Saurabh Shukla’s film: his corpulent, foul-mouthed, very-Punjabi producer rises above the clichés written into his part, and steals every single scene.

Watch Khoya Khoya Chand for its sparkling supporting cast, which buoys the lead pair, cements the in-between cracks, and makes you overlook, almost, the meandering plot, especially in the second half. And for the scenarists who bring alive with great fidelity, barring a glitch or two, one of the most exciting phases of Hindi movies. Also, keep an ear out for the title track, not as haunting as Bawra Mann from Hazaaron, but as mellifluous, leaving you wishing that the film had much soul as the song.