The Mehta Boys
Rating – **** (4/5)
Cast: Boman Irani, Avinash Tiwary, Shreya Chaudry, Puja Sarup & more
Directed by: Boman Irani
Written by: Alexander Delaris & Boman Irani
Now streaming on: Amazon Prime Video
The father-son dynamic, while ripe with potential, often finds itself slipping into the chasm of clichés. It’s an equation that has been explored sparingly in cinema, and when it is, the narrative frequently leans on familiar tropes. Rarely do we witness a story that isn’t just about the father and son, but somehow still remains wholly about them.
That paradox, as convoluted as the bond itself, is exactly what The Mehta Boys unpacks with remarkable finesse. Boman Irani, one of the finest actors of our time, makes his directorial debut with this tender, deeply felt drama, leading from the front alongside Avinash Tiwary, Shreya Chaudry, Puja Sarup, and a stellar supporting cast.
The film introduces us to Amay (Tiwary), a rising young architect possessing both intellect and grit, as attested by his boss. Yet, a certain hesitancy in taking the spotlight on a career-defining project reveals cracks in his self-assurance. Life delivers a heavier blow when his mother passes away, forcing him into a reunion with his estranged father (Irani) and his sister, Anu (Swarup).
The fragile relationship between father and son, already bruised, is further tested as the unspoken truth emerges—Anu and their mother had been the glue holding their bond together. Now, with that tether severed, they are two loose ends adrift in grief.
When Anu prepares to leave for the USA, taking their father along, circumstances intervene, leaving the father and son under the same roof for a few days. Thus unfolds an involuntary coexistence—one fraught with conflict, resistance, reflection, and, eventually, a tentative reckoning.
It doesn’t seek to tell you what family should look like. It merely holds up a mirror, allowing you to see what it often is—messy, complicated, frustrating, but, at its core, irreplaceable
To say that The Mehta Boys tugs at the heartstrings would be an understatement. Every beat of the film is laced with deliberate care, ensuring that the writing and execution do not fall into the realm of predictable estrangement-and-reconciliation arcs. The metaphor of Amay’s expensive yet structurally flawed Mumbai apartment mirrors the crumbling emotional architecture of his relationship with his father.
Irani’s character, a 71-year-old widower grappling with the overwhelming weight of loss, clings stubbornly to his independence, resisting even the most well-intentioned gestures from his son. Amay, on the other hand, desperately tries to bridge the divide, but his attempts—though earnest—are often laced with unintended condescension. His professional frustrations compound his personal struggles, making his father’s reluctance all the more agonizing.
Irani’s directorial brilliance shines in his resistance to conventional storytelling. Nowhere is this more evident than in the treatment of Zara (Shreya Chaudry), Amay’s colleague and girlfriend. Her presence isn’t ornamental; she isn’t merely the obligatory romantic subplot. Instead, Zara is the emotional anchor in Amay’s life, a confidante who doesn’t shy away from calling out his flaws, a pillar of support, and a daughter-like figure to his father.
It’s a refreshing departure from the way female characters are often written in narratives centering on male protagonists. Chaudry imbues Zara with an understated strength, a calming yet firm presence, all while effortlessly commanding attention in her limited screen time.
One could label The Mehta Boys as a “layered” film, but even that feels reductive. The intricacies woven into its narrative require space to breathe, to be absorbed. There’s a recurring motif that serves as a quiet yet powerful commentary—the men in this story, despite their respective strengths, are invariably held together by the women in their lives.
When those women step away, what remains is a battle of egos, a fragile dance between grief and pride, a silent competition where both father and son seek validation in the eyes of the other. The emotional reparations are slow, subtle, and never neatly tied up with a bow—just as real life often is.
The film is a masterclass in performance, anchored by two powerhouse actors. Irani, both in front of and behind the camera, proves why he is one of the most accomplished storytellers of our time. His understanding of restraint, the ability to linger on a moment just long enough to let its weight settle, is a rare gift.
His collaboration with his cinematographer results in a series of stunningly composed frames, each shot telling its own quiet story. And then there’s Avinash Tiwary—an actor whose emotional depth continues to impress, portraying Amay’s turmoil with striking authenticity. This man is rising with his character choices and how!
But perhaps the most revelatory performance comes from Puja Sarup. For those unfamiliar with her body of work, she may be perceived as The Mehta Boys’ greatest discovery. However, to those who have followed her career, this is merely another testament to her prowess. Her airport scene—a moment shared with both her father and brother—is one of the film’s most profound and beautifully performed sequences, resonating long after the credits roll.
What sets The Mehta Boys apart is its simplicity. Despite some unwarranted slower sequences, there is no structured resolution, no traditional A-to-B trajectory leading to a grand climax. Instead, the film unfolds as an odyssey—one of broken, deeply flawed individuals learning, not to be perfect, but to be better. To be more empathetic. More understanding. More human. And therein lies its brilliance.
It doesn’t seek to tell you what family should look like. It merely holds up a mirror, allowing you to see what it often is—messy, complicated, frustrating, but, at its core, irreplaceable.
Irani’s directorial debut is not just a film; it’s an experience—one that lingers, much like the relationships it so delicately portrays.
