What is the story about?
Kajol and Twinkle Khanna have so much in common, they’re a match made in lineage and sass. But I had misgivings when I first watched the promo of Prime Video’s Two Much. When we already have more podcasts and celeb chat shows than one can count, when Koffee With Karan continues to be the unmatched gold standard, was there any need for another high-profile duo flexing their Bollywood connections?
The answer is an obvious no. But let’s not forget that Kajol and Twinkle are the OG nepo babies, from a time when privilege was revered, not questioned. Kajol’s film family tree is too spread out to trace in its entirety in one short graph. Meanwhile, Twinkle too has enough stars gleaming in her corner. It is no surprise then that the two managed to whip up a rare coup—they got both Aamir Khan and Salman Khan to show up for their pilot.
The hour-long episode starts shaky, squeaky, but soon finds its footing, courtesy the Khans being surprisingly candid and earnest. Aamir sets the ball rolling by apologising to Salman for being overly critical of his coming late to the shoot of their 1994 cult-classic Andaz Apna Apna. He even discusses the heartbreak around his two divorces. Meanwhile, Salman admits for the first time on camera that he hasn’t ruled out fatherhood yet. In fact, he says he is rather looking forward to it. From claiming to be a recycled virgin to wishing for fatherhood, it sure has been one helluva ride.
The two games that the hostesses make the Khans play are bland and don’t reveal anything that one doesn’t already know about the superstars. It is in the moments of vulnerability and fellow-feeling that Two Much truly shines. One such is when Salman fondly reminisces about his time with Kajol’s father, Shomu Mukherjee. The second is him divulging the pain he had to endure during his long battle with trigeminal neuralgia (a severe facial nerve disorder), which first surfaced during the shoot of his 2007 film Partner. But the show saves the best for the last. The women make the two titans hum songs of yore, bringing back memories of a time that feels eons ago.
However, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Amid all the camaraderie and nostalgia, Kajol and Twinkle also try to wade through controversial waters. They ask Salman and Aamir about their opinion on working with heroines obscenely younger than them. But despite pointed questions, the answers remain vague, offhandish, and predictable. Salman even flippantly asks, "Like who?," coercing them to drop names. Twinkle says, "Bebo." If I were her, I’d have said Rashmika.
It’s an experience unlike any other, watching heroes (who shaped your idea of cinema) age. Part humbling, a little terrifying. Aamir and Salman are no longer young. Their humour is dated, so are their views. They no longer look like Amar and Prem, the youthful nincompoops from Andaz Apna Apna. They look more like tired men who have lived full tilt, for long enough to harbour halting regrets.
The first episode has more Twinkle than Kajol, more Salman than Aamir. But in the age of scripted reality shows, it’s unvarnished, rough around the edges. The awkwardness, the silences, the humanness isn’t edited out. It feels like the first cut, not the final draft. That’s the trade-off for authenticity. Take it or leave it.
Also Read: OG Review: Pawan Kalyan’s movie receives mixed reactions, but fans applaud star’s aura
The answer is an obvious no. But let’s not forget that Kajol and Twinkle are the OG nepo babies, from a time when privilege was revered, not questioned. Kajol’s film family tree is too spread out to trace in its entirety in one short graph. Meanwhile, Twinkle too has enough stars gleaming in her corner. It is no surprise then that the two managed to whip up a rare coup—they got both Aamir Khan and Salman Khan to show up for their pilot.
The hour-long episode starts shaky, squeaky, but soon finds its footing, courtesy the Khans being surprisingly candid and earnest. Aamir sets the ball rolling by apologising to Salman for being overly critical of his coming late to the shoot of their 1994 cult-classic Andaz Apna Apna. He even discusses the heartbreak around his two divorces. Meanwhile, Salman admits for the first time on camera that he hasn’t ruled out fatherhood yet. In fact, he says he is rather looking forward to it. From claiming to be a recycled virgin to wishing for fatherhood, it sure has been one helluva ride.
The two games that the hostesses make the Khans play are bland and don’t reveal anything that one doesn’t already know about the superstars. It is in the moments of vulnerability and fellow-feeling that Two Much truly shines. One such is when Salman fondly reminisces about his time with Kajol’s father, Shomu Mukherjee. The second is him divulging the pain he had to endure during his long battle with trigeminal neuralgia (a severe facial nerve disorder), which first surfaced during the shoot of his 2007 film Partner. But the show saves the best for the last. The women make the two titans hum songs of yore, bringing back memories of a time that feels eons ago.
However, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Amid all the camaraderie and nostalgia, Kajol and Twinkle also try to wade through controversial waters. They ask Salman and Aamir about their opinion on working with heroines obscenely younger than them. But despite pointed questions, the answers remain vague, offhandish, and predictable. Salman even flippantly asks, "Like who?," coercing them to drop names. Twinkle says, "Bebo." If I were her, I’d have said Rashmika.
It’s an experience unlike any other, watching heroes (who shaped your idea of cinema) age. Part humbling, a little terrifying. Aamir and Salman are no longer young. Their humour is dated, so are their views. They no longer look like Amar and Prem, the youthful nincompoops from Andaz Apna Apna. They look more like tired men who have lived full tilt, for long enough to harbour halting regrets.
The first episode has more Twinkle than Kajol, more Salman than Aamir. But in the age of scripted reality shows, it’s unvarnished, rough around the edges. The awkwardness, the silences, the humanness isn’t edited out. It feels like the first cut, not the final draft. That’s the trade-off for authenticity. Take it or leave it.
Also Read: OG Review: Pawan Kalyan’s movie receives mixed reactions, but fans applaud star’s aura
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