Junaid Khan has a bland, forgettable face, and in the context of Sunil Pandey's Ek Din, that should be taken as a compliment. In the role of IT guy Dinesh "Dino" Shrivastava, he is, after all, supposed to be bland and forgettable. Khan's weaknesses—both as a convincing lead and as an actor—become his greatest asset. Watching him in Ek Din, I was reminded of Imran Khan and how his limitations were transformed into strengths in a few films like Jaane Tu... Ya Jaane Na. But Jaane Tu... Ya Jaane Na was also a hugely enjoyable rom-com, whereas the best thing one can say about Ek Din is that it's... bearable, to some extent.
What makes it bearable is Khan's shy-guy persona, which feels almost too real, too natural. However, even that soon becomes monotonous, and you find yourself praying for, at the very least, a witty line or a cute gesture.
There is cuteness here, all right, but it's the kind designed to reduce your brain to jelly. When Dino tells Meera Ranganathan (Sai Pallavi) that magic happens in real life too, or when he puts on his glasses and opens his heart to propose, the film becomes as cloying as his coy smile. Pandey shoves this sugar pill down your throat and demands that you have a good time. I wouldn't be surprised if audiences end up getting diagnosed with diabetes after leaving the theater.
If Pandey has to work this hard to sell Dino and Meera's romance, it's because the actors themselves seem lost, utterly unconvincing, and miscast. Whoever decided to pair Pallavi opposite Khan may have thought they were taking an exciting gamble. It is a risk, but one that doesn't pay off well. The two leads never emotionally or physically connect—with each other or even with their surroundings. Something always feels off. Rather than convincing us that their characters are losing themselves in each other's moods and gazes, they seem like two people awkwardly performing coupledom for the benefit of strangers. Khan and Pallavi put on an act, and it is an excruciating act.
With a few key tweaks, however, Ek Din could have been a psychologically messy affair. All writers Sneha Desai and Spandan Desai had to do was avoid portraying Nakul (Kunal Kapoor) as a two-timer and instead imagine Dino as someone who exploits Meera's transient global amnesia to fulfill his fantasy of being her boyfriend. That darker version of Ek Din would have been far more engaging—and terrifying—than this sugary sentimentalism.
Alternatively, the writers could have embraced a non-linear structure: Meera returns to India, stumbles upon the medical report and a chef Snow Miku figure, and begins piecing together the events of that fateful night like a detective. That version may not have been perfect either, but at least it wouldn't have left us passively waiting for Meera to discover what the audience is already aware of.
Watching Ek Din reminded me why I detest so many rom-coms: without palpable chemistry, predictability becomes a chore. But Ek Din has an even bigger problem.
There is nothing inherently wrong with dramatizing the life of an awkward introvert. But Dino does some lousy things, and the film still expects us to find him adorable. He deletes a video that Meera records for herself—a video meant to help her remember what happened during her amnesia. After making this terrible choice, he weeps like a heartbroken lover, and somehow we are expected to sympathize with him. But why should we? Who asked him to delete the video? It's like stabbing yourself and then crying at the sight of your own blood.
Yes, the filmmakers clearly want Dino to grow up—to finally develop the courage to ask Meera out without external help. But if that's the point, they should have committed to it. Instead, the film undermines its own logic by having Dino recover the deleted clip anyway. A stronger ending would have left him to win Meera back through his own awkward charm. Instead, the writers take the easier route, leaving us wondering why we spent so much time watching him suffer in his personal, self-made hell. As a result, Ek Din's post-interval portion feels endless. The good news, I suppose, is that it only feels that way. We should thank our stars that, despite being titled Ek Din ("One Day"), this romantic drama lasts only about two hours. Those two long hours might have been unpleasant, but nothing in Ek Din felt sweeter than the sight of its end credits. I practically bolted out of the theater.
Final Score- [2/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times