In a highly polarised and radicalised social climate in 2025, I am often asked some truly bizarre questions. “You have Muslim friends? Are you left-wing?” Before I can even raise an eyebrow, I am usually met with unverified statistics: “I’m not against Muslims, bro. Eighty per cent of them are good; it’s the twenty per cent I have a problem with.” Sometimes I wonder how, at least in urban setups, we have normalised such conversations.
When I watched Anusha Rizvi’s Jio Hotstar film The Great Shamsuddin Family, I was reminded of many eccentric families I know. And I wouldn’t even insert religion here, because this is simply a regular, loud, annoying, over-the-top, yet loving Indian family.
Rizvi’s film unfolds in the NCR over the course of a single day. Bani (Kritika Kamra) is a writer who is creatively paralysed by the rising fanaticism. It is her last day to apply to a job in the US, a better place for her to work compared to India, which is sinking neck-deep into disharmony. Surprisingly, on a workday, Bani ends up receiving a steady stream of visitors. The first is her cousin Iram (Shreya Dhanwanthary), who is caught in a bizarre financial mess involving a forged signature, a missing borrower and a bank that has conveniently shut shop.
Soon enough, Bani’s house fills up with people: some friends, most of them family. If The Great Shamsuddin Family establishes one thing with conviction, it is that nobody will let Bani work. Could anything be more relatable in a home setup? Soon, her sister Humaira (an elegant Juhi Babbar) emotionally manipulates Bani to rethink her escape plan to the US. Once again, a classic family trope.
Two non-family members also linger in the house, seemingly to offer religious diversity for no particular reason. The film never clarifies why they are there or why they refuse to leave, even late into the night. And no, this is not The Exterminating Angel you are watching. To make matters worse, Purab Kohli is made to speak like a desperate film critic, tossing in one punchy word here and a complicated line there to appear relevant.
The Great Shamsuddin Family becomes most engaging when the aunts turn up, one by one. Akko (Farida Jalal), Asiya (Dolly Ahluwalia), Safiya (Sheeba Chaddha) and Nabeela (Natasha Rastogi) are such riotous fun that if you turn up the TV volume, your neighbour might assume an actual family fight is unfolding in your house.
My favourite moment is when Akko greets Safiya with a critique of her Pakistani-style attire, complete with a hijab, perhaps a nod to the need for better cultural assimilation. These four women get the best characters, the sharpest lines and the most memorable scenes, and the actors are so delightful that your neighbour might just ring the bell and join you in watching the film.
The same praise, however, cannot be extended to the screenplay, whose flaws occasionally protrude but are gently covered up by Rizvi. The Great Shamsuddin Family is eager to present Bani’s home as a liberal Muslim household, which translates into her friends demanding beer in the middle of the day. If Iram’s storyline and its resolution are harder to digest than jungle mutton, it is equally disappointing to see Bani bury her ambition under the weight of chaos and endless conversations that unfold over the day. Humaira’s track, which carries a hint of suspense, works far better in comparison.
The only male character of any consequence is Zoheb (Nishank Verma), who finds himself in what trolls would label a “love jihad” situation. The girl is Pallavi (Anushka Banerjee), and I love how Rizvi pays an ode to Lamhe in a cute way.
It feels nice to see an interfaith angle being explored in a film like this, but I wish the film had done something with the relentless phone calls Pallavi was receiving from her family. Considering the film’s innate feel-good texture, a brief conversation between her parents and Akko or Safiya would have felt nice, if written and staged in the right place and at the right pace. Remember the stand Sheeba Chaddha takes in Badhaai Do to protect her gay son from their vile relatives?
The Great Shamsuddin Family begins to drag when it tries too hard to be diverse, quirky and defensive about the Muslim way of life. This is precisely why Purab Kohli’s Amitav fails to leave an impression, as does his love interest, who exists largely to provide a Gen-Z perspective. One moment I particularly loved is when Bani says, “I’m not a liberal. I’ve got no interest in flaunting my half-baked knowledge with every news headline,” a line that neatly exposes the hypocrisy of many.
Speaking of lines, it is Rizvi’s dialogue that scores the highest in the film, surpassing even the performances, direction and technique. At one point, Bani admits, “I’ve grown tired of being careful all the time, of not offending anyone.” We have heard similar lines before, but the difference is that The Great Shamsuddin Family feels like the right film to say it in. Linguistically, the film flows effortlessly between Urdu and Hindi. There is no forced insertion of “tashreef rakhiye” or “nosh farmaiye” clichés. When a character addresses a mother as “maa” instead of “ammi”, it happens organically, without drawing attention to itself.
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With so much to convey in a few hours, Rizvi’s film is inherently chaotic, leaving editor Konark Saxena with the difficult task of keeping it coherent. Cinematographer Remy Dabashis Dalai works within highly limited spaces, yet the mise-en-scène remains consistently satisfying. It takes skill to shoot, cut and make sense of a story set in near-claustrophobic confines, and unlike festival films that rely on leisurely pauses and extended close-ups, Rizvi crafts a mainstream dramedy. For a brief moment, I was reminded of the all-Christian world Basu Chatterjee created with Pearl Padamsee, David and Leela Mishra in Baaton Baaton Mein.
Leading The Great Shamsuddin Family from the front is an immensely watchable Kritika Kamra. Throughout the film, I felt anxious for two reasons: first, nobody lets Bani work on her application; and second, the film itself does not allow Kamra to fully unleash her potential. Shreya Dhanwanthary is spontaneous as Iram, although her issues are wrapped up rather hastily, as if Rizvi is eager to tie things up neatly. Nishank Verma gets both the lingo and body language just right as Zoheb.
The Great Shamsuddin Family may not be entirely free of blemishes, but Anusha Rizvi presents a very fly-on-the-wall account of what happens in an Indian Muslim family. Fifteen minutes in, you can tell it is crafted by someone who understands the space. Rizvi moves beyond aesthetics or token markers of being Muslim, the etiquettes, qawwalis and biryanis. Instead, the film touches upon topics such as Umrah trips, divorce, mehr, triple talaq, generation gaps, intolerance, mob violence and more.
Given the significant place the Muslim community holds in Indian society, these intricacies deserve to be represented on screen. Because your neighbour’s name might be Khan, he is seldom a terrorist, and he deserves a film too.
VERDICT: ★★★ 1/2
Watch The Great Shamsuddin Family on Jio Hotstar.
