Ghich Pich

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!

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.

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 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!

Ghich Pich is one of those films that sneaks up on you quietly and stays with you long after... It's not loud, not dramatic, but so real that it almost feels like watching your own teenage years play out on screen. The way it's set in 2001 Chandigarh just adds to the charm, the vibe, the innocence, the struggles all feel familiar and warm.

The three friends at the heart of the story (Kabir Nanda, Aryan Singh Rana, and Shhivam Kakar) are not polished in a Bollywood way and that's exactly what makes them feel genuine. Their friendship, their awkwardness, even their silences feel so true to life. I also loved how the father-son relationship was shown, not melodramatic, just tender and layered, the way it usually is in real life.

It's a simple story but that's the beauty of it. No unnecessary noise, just pure nostalgia and emotion. By the end, I wasn't just watching a film, I was remembering my own growing up years. Messy, confusing, beautiful, exactly like the title says, Ghich Pich.