Ghich Pich

Ghich Pich is like taking a slow, easy drive down the old ghedi route - windows down, friends in the back seat, music playing - and suddenly finding yourself back in the 90s.

Set against the warm, lived-in backdrop of Chandigarh's middle-class neighborhoods, the story weaves together three families. But at its heart, it's about father-son dynamics, dosti-yaari and the quiet growing-up moments that shape who we are.

The friendship between Gaurav, Gurpreet and Anurag - three adolescent kids - feels completely natural - no cheesy nostalgia, just the real deal: the bawdy jokes, petty fights and unspoken loyalty that we have all experienced in our teenage years.

Where the film really hits home is in the father-son arcs. Each one is different - one's about finding your own identity under the weight of expectations, another about quiet courage and assertion (a Sikh kid who wants to shave off his hair) and another about seeing your parent in a whole new light.

None of it is exaggerated or over-dramatic. The director, keeps it real - letting emotions unfold in their own time, letting us feel the weight of small moments: an awkward pause at the dinner table, a half-smile, a late-night conversation that changes everything.

The cast - mostly fresh faces - is absolutely brilliant. Their acting is but a gift to the director's vision. You stop seeing them as actors and just see people you might know. The performances are subtle - which makes the emotional payoffs land that much harder.

Visually, too, the film feels authentic - small kitchens, cluttered rooms, cafés where friends hang out, streets that look like the ones we've walked a hundred times.

Ghich Pich is one of those rare films you watch with your whole family. By the end, you're smiling, remembering your own stories and maybe even missing a part of yourself you thought you'd forgotten. This has been the first film I watched in theatre post-covid and I have liked it enough to go back for a re-watch!

The movie deserves all praise and a wider audience - strongly recommend it!

When I watched Udaan, I never thought any other movie could be as the same level as it . Then Ankur Singla, changes it. He mamaged to maintain a similar vibe but surprises us with every new plot .The character of 2001 Chandigarh itself makes us tike travel bacl and feel the place through the movie evwn if you never did.

I don't know why movies as good as these go with empty halls.

"Gichpich" - A Filmgoer's Review

Nonika Singh, a renowned and senior film critic for the Chandigarh Tribune, whose reviews are eagerly read by her audience, introduced Ankur Singla, the director of the film "Gichpich," screened at the Chandigarh Film Festival, as *"Chandigarh da Munda"* (a lad from Chandigarh) in an article published in the Tribune. She also wrote about his background. It was surprising to learn that a bright law graduate from the nationally acclaimed National School of Law Bengaluru, who had no direct connection to the film industry, had produced and directed this film. Therefore, my curiosity to watch the film increased, especially since no producer-director, apart from those making Punjabi films, has emerged from Chandigarh. This curiosity drew me to Jagat Cinema, where the film was screened. While going to watch the film, I had the preconceived notion that it would be an art film or an experimental film, as film festivals often screen such films. However, after watching the entire film, I realized that it was a new kind of film, transcending art films and experimental films, incorporating the nuances of art films, the realism of experimental films, and the appeal of commercial films, perhaps requiring a new classification. I was so engrossed while watching the film that I lost track of when it started and ended. From any angle or perspective, it didn't seem like the director's first film, especially considering that no one in his family has any connection to the film industry.

Talking about the film, it is set against the backdrop of Chandigarh in 2001. The director claims that it is based on true events. In essence, according to the director, it is a story of a father and son. In my opinion, it is a story of the internal conflicts within middle-class families. It portrays the conflict between two generations, between two ideologies, between the setting sun and the rising moon, a conflict that is perhaps universal and eternal. This story is equally relevant today, in 2025. The director took a significant risk by adding sensitive topics such as homosexuality and a Sikh character's decision to cut his hair to the screenplay, especially within the context of Punjab. The director deserves commendation for this, and remarkably, he has portrayed his message beautifully.

Regarding the individual characters, the scenes of the father's pressure and stress on his son for studies remind us of the suicides that occur in Kota. The mental anguish of a young son grappling with a taboo subject like homosexuality is beautifully depicted, especially when the character's mother takes her son into her arms and narrates her ordeal upon discovering her husband's homosexuality, and how she reconciled with reality and compromised to save the family.

If we turn our attention to the third story, the Sikh character's insistence on cutting his hair for his girlfriend, despite his father's rejection for social and religious reasons, and his subsequent realization of the importance of the turban at a wedding and how it positively influenced his state of mind, is all filmed very beautifully.

Speaking of performances, Satyajit Sharma, an experienced artist from the film and television industry, delivers a remarkable performance as CA Naresh Bansal. In one scene, the mere wrinkles on his forehead and the trembling of his lips convey so much without uttering a word, leaving a lasting impression. Actress Lilly Singh, who plays his wife Ashima, breathes life into the film with her facial expressions, body language, and gestures. Mia Magar, who plays Gurpreet Singh's mother, leaves an indelible mark with her understated performance, without any makeup and mostly in silence.

Geeta Aggarwal, who plays Ritu Arora, the mother of Gaurav Bansal, is a renowned theater artist and adds depth to the film with her realistic portrayal and unique style as a wife compromising with middle-class values, and her impactful dialogue delivery.

Nishan Seema's performance as Lekhpal Singh, Gurpreet's father, is adequate.

The late Nitesh Pandey's powerful performance and body language as Rakesh Arora, a homosexual father, will be remembered for a long time.

Among the three main young characters, Kabir Nanda, playing Gurpreet Singh, the Sikh boy, steals the show, especially considering this is his debut film. He delivers beautiful facial expressions. Aryan Rana, playing Gaurav Bansal, who is striving to fulfill his CA father's wishes, also gives a commendable performance. Despite this being his first film, he effectively portrays the pressure, stress, and anger on his face. Shivam Kakkar, who plays Gaurav Arora, the son of a homosexual father, deserves praise. He beautifully portrays mental and physical anguish on the silver screen. Having prior experience in the film and TV industry, such a performance was expected from him.

The twists and turns in the story were unexpected, but the director, with his astute judgment, brought tears to the audience's eyes on several occasions, which cannot be labeled as melodrama. The director's command over his subject and directorial prowess made many scenes emotionally resonant.

The director also deserves praise for selecting Sangeeta Gupta, a renowned drama director from Chandigarh, to play the role of a school teacher, ensuring the highest level of realism in every scene.

It is true that the film is set and shot in Chandigarh, but the director has used it sparingly, perhaps only when required, even though iconic locations like the Rose Garden, Rock Garden, Sukhna Lake, and Sector 17 Market could have been memorably depicted in the film.

The music is just as much as needed. Music director Ritwik Den has provided pleasing music. Although the film is set in 2001, when music was mostly based on Indian tunes and instruments, it works well. Since the film revolves around young people, one more song could have been included, but perhaps the director didn't feel the need.

The background music aligns with the film's narrative. It is not overly dramatic or noisy. The use of the sarangi in some scenes is particularly beautiful. It seems that the background music was AI-generated.

Although there was not much scope for songs, lyricist Shaili has written good songs.

Sukhan Sar Singh's cinematography is good, but the film's visual appeal could have been enhanced further with the use of high-definition lenses.

Upon close observation, it is evident that the director has filmed the movie in very short shots, that is, scenes of very short duration. There is hardly any shot longer than a minute, but this experiment has been skillfully edited by film editor Syed Mubashir Ali, creating a new cinematic experience. It reminds one of the song "Roop Tera Mastana" from the film "Aradhana," released 57 years ago, in which the renowned producer-director Shakti Samanta filmed the entire song in a single shot. That was also a unique experiment that was widely appreciated, and in "Gichpitch," the skillful editing of short scenes has created a new and effective cinematic experiment, which is commendable.

By creating a story without elements considered essential for the commercial success of today's films, such as abusive dialogues, fight scenes, unnecessarily prolonged love stories, or explicit content, the director has proven that a successful film can be made with a well-written screenplay and a director's command and vision.

One anomaly was noticeable in the film. The music played on the dholak with the band in the wedding scene is Western, which doesn't match the scene. However, this is a minor issue.

In my opinion, this film is entirely the director's, in which he has succeeded to a 90% extent. Just as Eklavya gained fame in archery by considering Dronacharya his guru, I believe that the director has paid homage to the late Nitesh Pandey, whom he considers his guru, which is extremely appropriate and relevant.

The film's final scene, in which Bansal's son leaves for Delhi by bus and the radio announces his arrival, somewhat evokes the films of the old renowned director Hrishikesh Mukherjee or the contemporary H. K. Irani.

Most importantly, by making a film on three true stories, the director has not only presented the reality of society but has also beautifully shown the solutions to problems with maturity and positivity.

The film's ending, where the three young characters, having learned from their life experiences, overcome their internal struggles, accept reality, and achieve success, is also commendable. Especially the display of a board at Gaurav Arora's eyewear shop offering a "20% discount to the LGBTQ+ community." In the old days, Kishore Kumar used to be the lyricist, music director, story writer, screenwriter, producer, and director of his films. Today, he is remembered as Ankur Singla, the producer, director, writer, and screenwriter of this film, is also repeating history.

It is true that filmmaking is a collective effort, with contributions from everyone. Yet, this film is primarily the director's. The director deserves praise. It doesn't seem like his first film, especially for a director who and whose family has no connection to the film industry.

If this film is shown at any national or international film festival, it would not be surprising. In such a scenario, it would be a true recognition of a young director's first endeavor. In the film's credits, the producer-director has dedicated this film to his parents, for which Ankur Singla deserves praise and congratulations.

I give this film a rating of 8.5/10.

At its core, Ghich Pich is a tender, thoughtfully crafted film that explores the intricate web of relationships in a way that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant. Set against the textured backdrop of Chandigarh's middle-class milieu, the film resists the temptation of spectacle or melodrama. Instead, it leans into subtlety, drawing strength from the authenticity of its place, its characters, and the emotions that quietly pulse beneath the surface.

What makes Ghich Pich immediately stand out is its careful attention to detail. The everyday realities of life-small homes filled with unspoken tensions, friends meeting in street-side cafés, family dinners that teeter between routine and revelation-are portrayed with such honesty that you forget you're watching fiction. There's no attempt to over-stylize or heighten the drama. The film lets life unfold as it often does: unpredictably, imperfectly, and sometimes with aching beauty.

The dynamic between the three central friends-Gaurav, Gurpreet, and Anurag-is electric in the most grounded way possible. Their friendship is refreshingly unforced, capturing the essence of youthful camaraderie without slipping into clichés or forced nostalgia. The film celebrates their reckless joy, their inside jokes, petty conflicts, and deep, unspoken loyalty with an observational eye that at times feels almost documentary-like in its realism. It reminds you of your own teenage years-the chaos, the laughter, the friendships that felt like the center of your universe.

Yet, where Ghich Pich truly finds its emotional core is in its nuanced portrayal of father-son relationships. These arcs are distinct and delicately written, each laced with emotional truth. One story explores the tension between expectation and individuality; another delves into hidden identities and quiet courage; and the third uncovers long-buried truths that reshape how a son sees his father. The film never sensationalizes these stories. Instead, it leans into the silence, the miscommunications, the hesitant gestures-those small moments that speak volumes about love, regret, pride, and fear.

Director Ankur Singla deserves immense credit for his restraint and emotional clarity. He allows the narrative to breathe, trusting the audience to find meaning in the small exchanges and moments that often go unnoticed in louder films. The screenplay is skillfully balanced, blending humor and heartbreak, often within the same scene. There's no heavy-handed messaging or melodramatic resolution-just the quiet, sometimes painful, always human unfolding of life.

The performances are uniformly strong across the board. Each actor brings a lived-in authenticity to their role, resisting the urge to dramatize emotional beats. Instead, their performances feel internal, simmering just below the surface, which makes the eventual emotional payoffs all the more powerful. You don't just watch their stories-you feel them.

Visually, the film complements its narrative with understated yet evocative cinematography. The camera lingers where it needs to-on a nervous glance, a cluttered kitchen, an unsent text. The production design and color palette mirror the modesty and warmth of Chandigarh life, rooting the film deeply in its setting and enhancing its emotional realism.

Ghich Pich is a rare gem-poignant without being preachy, sentimental without being saccharine. It doesn't try to "teach" you anything or deliver some grand philosophical message. Instead, it gently nudges you to look closer at your own relationships-at the silences, the misunderstandings, the quiet acts of love that often go unnoticed.

In a world where stories are often told in extremes, Ghich Pich is a quiet, steady voice reminding us that life's most meaningful moments are often the ones we almost miss. A quietly powerful achievement in storytelling, and one that stays with you long after the credits roll.

Ghich Pich, through wonderful acting, direction and amazing comedic timing draws you into this ever familiar world of school, fathers and being a child. And once you're in this world, beware of the Nostalgia! It really feels like you're living a story from your childhood, a story of a person you knew or story of a person you were or story of a person you loved.

Often, filmmakers are forced to either be drastically serious or meaninglessly funny but here is where, Ghich Pich, shows that you do both well at the same time and that's the biggest compliment I can pay the movie. Fair warning thought, it had me tearing up at the end so beware!