Two Much Review | How To Be A Formula Feminist

I am sure the creators of Two Much started with an ingredient list: Let’s get two women. They should be feisty, but not overly feminist; clever, but not too clever; they should have enough friends that we can count on to show up; they should have a generation or two of film genes, so that they can drop names and look casual doing it with said friends (because said friends would have even more generations of film genes); they should be able to call out anyone on anything randomly; they should be able to throw a deep question and quickly deflect with an inane one when the guest is about to answer; they should be willing to wear painful heels which they will complain about, but never let go of; they should be able to bring in their superstar husbands (but not when they are airing their opinions on infidelity); they should be willing to stare at a tableful of food (and stand around it while complaining about said heels) and not be the least bit tempted to nibble (even though it is called the grazing table). Lastly, they should be willing to tut-tut, disagree, make distorted faces from time to time, laugh in a shrill manner, occasionally play-fight, paw and scratch each other. Kajol and Twinkle, did you say? Perfect.

Next, let’s find some random feminist/woke phrases to sprinkle: body-shaming, ageism, mental health, women supporting women, my-body-my-choice, feminism is self-worth, gender roles and labour, etc. (The idea is to only use feminism as click-bait, so let’s not think too deep).

Let’s also add some rage-bait phrases: trolling, infidelity, caste, cosmetic procedures, women drivers, fat-shaming, menopause, plus-size, nepotism, “it’s a man’s world”, “acting is more rigorous than a 9-5 job,” etc.

Let’s also make sure there is a critical mass of suitably successful elders (dead and alive) to randomly revere throughout the show (they may or may not be related to the hosts or the guests). If they are young, these would possibly be their parents (because, nepo-kids). If older, their spouses (or ex-spouses), children, or entire khandaan. If all else fails, let’s use Rekha. Or just gloat in our own abundant filmy genes.

So, Kajol and Twinkle are either gushing about, “Remember, we were in this movie together?” with the guests (Aamir Khan, Salman Khan, Chunky Panday, Saif Ali Khan, Govinda), or “How I Met (and crushed on) your Mother/Father,” like in the Jahnvi Kapoor-Karan Johar episode, in which the latter also joined in the collective fawning over Sridevi. What were they expecting her to say? “Yes, my mother had more talent than all of you put together?” This episode reminded me of being that child who is forced to meet some elders who have taken it upon themselves to verbally harass you (in their home): now sing a song for Uncle/Aunty, now recite a poem, now dance, now bark like a dog, now do mimicry.

Oh yes, some clever analogies and metaphors would be nice, so let’s throw in pineapple-on-a-pizza, green-chutney-on-a-chaat, mozzarella-on-a-pizza while referring to our ‘friends’ (sometimes the same friend, a.k.a Karan Johar).

About the food (remember aforementioned grazing table?): It has to be complicated and messy and look like it took two days to make. Since the show creators spent too much on the glitter, they had no budget for a sensible curator of ‘grazing food’, but never mind, because no one is going to eat anyway.

Oh, we forgot about the guests. Let’s call Aamir and Salman Khan in the opening episode so that they can promote the show (Salman actually makes an insincere appeal to “please watch the show”). And just to have fun, let’s ask them both a feminist question: “How do you feel about being paired with younger heroines?” And not follow up about it; instead talk about how your kid and my kid met for play dates. Then, let’s invite some youngsters on a play date (Varun Dhawan and Alia Bhatt) and ask them how it is to be a parent. Or a dog parent. Or a Kapoor Bahu.

Let’s follow it up with a Kapoor damaad (Saif Ali Khan) and ask him something the whole world knows: like how he met his begum, or how he got stabbed (although this time, they actually allowed the guest to talk). Let’s flank him with guess who?  One of our husbands!

To make it inclusive, let’s invite some has-beens and court-jesters like Chunky Panday and Govinda and ask them outright about nepotism and feminism, while all they want to talk about is chaddis and their moms (this bit was actually authentic) and then, in the end, let’s do a morning-assembly sort of family dance, standing in a line. Because, Govinda!

To mix it up, let’s throw in some ‘outsiders’ who have good jawlines and cheekbones (Manish Malhotra), assuring them that they are not really ‘outsiders’ and let’s pair him up with a big girl (Sonakshi Sinha) and bombard her with fat-shaming questions while pretending to be supportive, offering prompts like, “Once a fat girl always a fat girl!”. And then, let’s placate her with, “We are all fat girls in our head”. In the same breath, let’s ask the king of lehengas and navels about plus-size clothes and, “Are women still judged by their looks?”

One tries to pay attention to each episode, but it’s hard to say who is asking the question to whom and who is answering (if they are). When Kajol and Twinkle are not bullying or fan-girling their guests, they are clawing at each other, physically and verbally—one mocking the other’s hot flashes (what happened to women supporting women?) while the other pinches her, or pokes into her wrists, allegedly leaving red marks. Sometimes they are mocking each other’s sartorial sense (in the Karan Johar episode, where Twinkle is wearing optical illusion pants and KJo, a cut and paste jacket, they gang up to mock Kajol’s three-piece ochre suit and say, “What she wears is best left documented”. For an “unscripted” show, that is a lot of snark.

As an audience, it feels like you are eavesdropping on a conversation—and the worst part is, it is not even juicy gossip, forget being stimulating in any other way. In Two Much, there is an overt and deliberate attempt to always exclude the audience. Think of a popular gang's party you accidentally got invited to, where they are busy talking at each other, pretending you don’t exist. Now, multiply that by 100. Two Much doesn’t seem to know the difference between talking and being talked at. Even Twinkle, the vocabulary expert, hasn’t figured it out. In the words of the twosome in the trailer, the show aimed to have us “laughing, gasping and judging.” I am doing all three, but at them, and I am sad to be doing this because I still like Kajol as an actress and somewhat tolerate Twinkle as an actress-turned-humorist and Scrabble-ready-Reckoner. But if I watch any more episodes of Two Much, I might go into amnesia of the cinematic memories I have of Kajol. At least with Twinkle, there is no such risk.

If the bar for Two Much was Koffee With Karan, it has still failed. KWK ran for two decades and had a script: Karan Johar cleverly let people walk into a trap and then some things happened that made a good copy. And what KWK got right was that it upheld the athithi devo bhava (guest above all) spirit, even when the joke was on him. Remember Kangana Ranaut calling him the flagbearer of nepotism while sitting on his couch? KWK gave us some more memorable moments: Deepika’s jibe at Ranbir, Sonam’s jibe at Shobhaa De, Rakhi Sawant’s openness about surgeries, Arjun Kapoor’s feelings about Sridevi, Katrina expressing her crush on Vicky Kaushal.

Yes, we still love the movies, despite having access to  every celebrity’s Instagram, YouTube channel, Reddit and what not. So when we decide to park our bottoms and watch a celebrity talk show, we are expecting a little more in (interiority is for Simi Garewal).

Mrinalini Jain, the show creator revealed in an interview that she was aiming for a female gaze-led show, “where we were asking questions women wanted to ask.” But when you have two hosts with so much privilege to dig deeper, why is it that the maximum they can manage is curated, unfunny banter? The feminism is exhausting and dated and feels commodified, to say the least. I refuse to believe that Kajol and Twinkle had no agency over this caricature of a show. And one would imagine that the prior intimacy between the hosts would lead to something deeper, darker, funnier with their guests. If you throw infidelity into the hat, talk about it with gumption and authenticity. If you open an ageism dialogue with Salman Khan, walk all the way. If you are talking menopause, go guns and blazes. If you are talking nepotism, do not pretend to be a minor character. To be relatable while avoiding controversies is not happening in 2025.

 When Rendezvous with Simi Garewal (1997-2005) first arrived, it bridged the gap between lesser mortals and screen gods, celebrated cricketers, and powerful industrialists. Not only did it make these celebrities accessible, but also revealed the human beings behind the famous names. By the end of an episode, you felt like you were a little closer, a little more intimate with them. Tabassum managed to create a quieter, although less opulent intimacy during Doordarshan days with Phool Khile Hain Gulshan Gulshan  (1972-1993) and Farooque Sheikh brought a nuanced, yet endearing sensibility to a celebrity talk show with Jeena Isika Naam Hai (2002-2008). As an audience, we have always had it better.

Conversation or connection is not what Two Much is about or even pretends to be. At best, it’s about abstraction and deflection and it doesn’t help if the guests read poetry or play a game in which the forfeit is a blended cocktail of eggs, orange juice and potato chips. And because of this haphazardness, the audience has lost interest in knowing anything more about the guests. By the end, you don’t know if you are bored or tired or angry and you wonder why you are giving a long rope to such exhausting mediocrity.

(P.S: The half star is for the poor chef who made all that food that no one ate.)