At a time when stand-up comedians are making news for contentious reasons, Kapil Sharma (no saint himself) walks in with absolutely no agenda except to entertain in 'Kapil Sharma, I’m Not Done Yet', the latest show on Netflix.
Yes, he disappoints his ardent fans as he does not unleash another rapid round of ribald or recycled jokes.
Instead, he makes a simple and sincere attempt to prove that this unstructured but universally popular art form need not be intentionally loud, naughty (read misogynistic), and over the top, both in conception and execution, like his own popular series, to be a TV-hit.
Here, Kapil, believe it or not, is totally ‘sober’, suave at times, and right through truly himself - honest, humble and heart-warming, despite the setting being lavish with a bottle of Perrier clearly visible and the audience, mostly his friends and family members, including his wife Ginni and mother, seated in a Ball Room-like Hall under a series of miniature chandeliers.
The most endearing aspect of the show is Kapil’s clear intention not to live up to the expectation of his ardent fans - cracking rustic jokes in a bathrobe and a false moustache, and making a fool of his audience by clever stage management.
The celebrated comedian not only takes pot-shots at the famous and the powerful, including Narendra Modi whom he does not name but keeps referring to, in his own inimitable way, as our prime minister, but also does not spare himself.
In almost an audio autobiographical style, he recalls his tough upbringing in Amritsar and his early struggles in Mumbai with remarkable candour. This part is clearly the most entertaining as he unleashes the best punch lines on himself and straight from the heart.
At the same time, he also ridicules himself for his evident lack of etiquette and excessive love for the good things in life, apart from his incorrigible fondness to get into trouble, be it by tweeting when drunk (remember the one in which he boasted of paying an income tax of Rs15 crore) or getting trolled for his toxic comments.
Nevertheless, Kapil is brilliant when it comes to self-deprecating humour and harmless chatter. He admits his problems with drinking and depression without any regret or remorse, and, typical of the man, blames part of it on his partners in crime – Johnnie Walker and Jack Daniels.
Kapil is also ‘original’. Sample: “Sharing a bottle of cold drink with two straws in it with a girlfriend was like French kissing for teenagers of our generation.”
Kapil is also crude: The Covid joke.
The writing (by Kapil himself and Ankalp Goswami) gets uneven at times, but thankfully is engaging right through its duration of about 55 minutes.
“India’s growing population produces the equivalent of one Australia every year, and then sends them off to Canada,” quips Kapil at one stage which evokes a mixed reaction.
The show ends on a poignant note and with a fitting paean to his later father: “I’m just a star but your my brightest Sitaara”.
Enjoy it. With a glass bubbly, if you can.