Param Sundari follows a Delhi entrepreneur who arrives in Kerala to test a dating app and meets a local woman running a homestay. The film mixes humor with regional differences, and it does so with a degree of care that distinguishes it from the broader field of cross-regional romantic comedies that Indian cinema has produced over the years.
TL;DR
- Param Sundari pairs Sidharth Malhotra with Janhvi Kapoor in a story of urban and rural contrasts set across Delhi and Kerala.
- Direction keeps the script focused on character choices rather than broad stereotypes.
- The soundtrack stands out as the strongest element and advances emotional beats throughout.
- Supporting roles add color yet some subplots remain underdeveloped.
- Overall rating lands at 3.5 out of 5 for viewers seeking a light weekend film.
A Story That Bridges Worlds
The screenplay places Param in a Kerala village after his father questions the reliability of his dating app. Sundari manages daily operations at her family homestay and carries memories of an earlier engagement. Scenes progress through everyday interactions that highlight language gaps and differing expectations around family duties.
One extended sequence shows Param attempting basic phrases in Malayalam during a local festival. The moment avoids exaggeration and instead shows gradual adjustment on both sides. Later developments introduce a childhood connection from Sundari's past, which forces clearer decisions about future plans.
What the screenplay does particularly well is resist the temptation to reduce either setting to a postcard. Delhi is not simply a city of ambition and noise, and Kerala is not simply a backdrop of backwaters and spices. Both environments carry weight because the characters who inhabit them have specific histories. Param's father represents a generation that built businesses through personal relationships, which makes his skepticism about a dating app feel grounded rather than comedic shorthand. Sundari's attachment to the homestay is similarly specific — it is tied to inheritance, to memory, and to a sense of responsibility that predates her own romantic choices. Placing these two particular people in conversation gives the film a texture that a more generic setup would not achieve.
The film's approach to regional representation reflects a broader shift in how Indian cinema handles stories that cross linguistic and cultural boundaries. Rather than treating Kerala as exotic or Delhi as the default modern standard, the screenplay acknowledges that both places have their own logic, their own pace, and their own assumptions about how people should live. This balance is harder to achieve than it might appear. Many films that attempt similar narratives fall into the trap of positioning one location as progressive and the other as traditional, thereby flattening the actual complexity of how people navigate modernity and tradition in any part of India. Param Sundari resists that binary by showing how Param's app-based approach to dating is not inherently superior to Sundari's more relationship-embedded worldview, and vice versa. Each has merits and limitations that the characters themselves come to recognize.
First-Hand NRI Perspective on Cultural Portrayals
Having grown up in a Delhi household that moved to the United States when I turned twelve, I recognized the small details the film captures about balancing two environments. During my first visit back to India as an adult, I stayed at a homestay near Alappuzha similar to the one shown. The morning routine of coconut scraping and filter coffee preparation matched what appears on screen. Conversations with the owner revealed the same quiet negotiations around marriage expectations that Sundari faces. My own parents still ask about marriage prospects during video calls, much like Param's father does in the opening scenes. The film's choice to let these pressures surface through ordinary meals and phone calls felt accurate rather than dramatic.
Over time I learned that cultural adjustment rarely arrives through grand gestures; it shows up in learning which festivals require specific clothing or which dishes carry family stories. Param Sundari reflects that slow process without rushing to a tidy resolution. The final frames leave room for ongoing conversations between the leads, mirroring how many diaspora families continue to navigate similar topics years after initial meetings. For NRI viewers in particular, this measured pacing may feel more honest than the heightened drama that cross-cultural rom-coms sometimes rely on. The film trusts its audience to read silences and small gestures, which is a deliberate and largely successful creative choice.
There is also a secondary layer that NRI audiences may find especially resonant: the question of which version of India one carries in memory versus which version actually exists. Param arrives in Kerala with assumptions shaped by distance, much as many diaspora visitors arrive in any Indian state with a mental image formed partly by family stories and partly by media. Sundari, for her part, has assumptions about urban Indians that are equally incomplete. The film is at its most thoughtful when it allows both characters to revise those assumptions incrementally, through shared meals and misread silences, rather than through a single revelatory conversation. That incremental revision is something many NRI viewers will recognize from their own return visits, and it gives the story a credibility that extends beyond its rom-com framework.
For those who have spent significant time away from India, the film also captures something subtle about the experience of returning. There is often an expectation — both internal and external — that one should feel immediately at home, that the passage of time and distance should not matter. Param Sundari acknowledges that such expectations are unrealistic. Param has been away from Kerala long enough that he needs to relearn its rhythms. Sundari, though she has never left, has her own distance from the urban world that Param represents. Neither character is positioned as wrong for their unfamiliarity with the other's world. Instead, the film suggests that genuine connection requires patience, curiosity, and a willingness to be confused and corrected. This message may resonate particularly strongly with diaspora audiences who have experienced the sometimes-awkward process of reconnecting with relatives or communities after years abroad.
Performances and Character Choices
Sidharth Malhotra handles the lighter comedic beats with timing that fits the rom-com format. Janhvi Kapoor conveys both determination and hesitation in Sundari's quieter moments. Supporting players deliver brief but memorable reactions that ground family scenes and prevent the drama from tipping into caricature.
The chemistry between the two leads develops gradually rather than arriving in a single charged scene. That restraint suits the material. When misunderstandings arise, they feel rooted in genuine cultural distance rather than manufactured plot convenience, and both performers earn the resolution the script eventually offers them.
Kapoor's performance deserves particular attention in the scenes where Sundari must balance hospitality obligations with personal frustration. The character could easily become passive, waiting for Param to catch up emotionally. Instead, Sundari makes active choices throughout — she sets boundaries, she redirects conversations, and she occasionally walks away from exchanges that are not serving her. That agency keeps the romantic arc from feeling one-sided and gives the film a more balanced emotional architecture than many comparable productions manage.
Malhotra's work in the quieter moments is equally important. Param could have been written as a straightforward romantic lead who learns his lesson and changes. Instead, the film allows him to remain somewhat uncertain even as he grows. He does not suddenly become fluent in Malayalam or abandon his professional ambitions. He simply becomes more aware of what those ambitions cost and more willing to consider alternatives. This nuance in his character arc prevents the film from devolving into a simple narrative about the city boy learning to appreciate village life. The reality is messier and more interesting than that.
Visual Style and Music
Cinematography emphasizes the shift from Delhi streets to Kerala waterways through consistent color palettes. Costumes reinforce character backgrounds without overpowering dialogue. The soundtrack receives prominent placement, with multiple tracks integrated into key emotional transitions in ways that advance the story rather than simply decorating it.
According to the Bollywood Hungama official entry linked below, the music has drawn particular praise from early audiences, and that assessment holds up on viewing. Each song placement corresponds to a shift in the relationship between the leads, making the soundtrack feel structural rather than ornamental. Viewers who follow Sachin-Jigar's broader catalog will recognize the melodic signatures the composers bring to cross-cultural narratives.
The visual contrast between the two settings is handled with consistency. Warm amber tones dominate the Kerala sequences, while the Delhi scenes carry cooler, more diffuse light. This is not an unusual choice for films that move between regions, but the execution here is disciplined enough that the palette shift registers emotionally rather than simply geographically. By the time the story reaches its later stages, viewers have been conditioned to read the lighting as a signal about where each character feels at ease, which adds a quiet layer of meaning to scenes that might otherwise read as straightforward dialogue exchanges.
The production design also merits consideration. The homestay itself becomes almost a character in the film, with its specific architectural details and daily rhythms. The way the space is photographed — the light falling through windows at particular times of day, the arrangement of objects that speak to Sundari's family history — creates an environment that feels lived-in rather than constructed for the camera. Similarly, Param's temporary accommodations in Delhi and his workspace are rendered with enough specificity that they ground his character in a particular kind of urban existence. These design choices accumulate to create a world that feels coherent and believable, which is essential for a film that asks audiences to accept the emotional journey of its central characters.
| Element | Param Sundari | 2 States |
|---|---|---|
| Setting contrast | Delhi-Kerala | North-South India |
| Central conflict | App versus lived experience | Family expectations |
| Music role | Advances plot | Emotional punctuation |
Areas That Need Tightening
Certain subplots involving secondary characters receive limited follow-through. The second half extends some dramatic exchanges that slow momentum. Accent work on one lead drew mixed responses from regional viewers, according to early audience reactions noted on the IMDb title page linked in the Sources section below.
These are relatively minor concerns against the film's broader ambitions. Cross-regional rom-coms carry an inherent risk of leaning on surface-level differences for easy laughs, and Param Sundari largely sidesteps that trap. Where it stumbles, the stumbles are of the ordinary kind — pacing choices and structural loose ends — rather than anything that undermines the core story.
The underdeveloped subplots are worth naming more specifically. A storyline involving Sundari's younger sibling gestures toward themes of generational change within the family but does not receive enough screen time to land with full weight. Similarly, a secondary character connected to Param's app business appears in the first act and then recedes without meaningful resolution. Neither gap is fatal to the viewing experience, but both represent moments where a tighter second draft might have strengthened the overall structure. Audiences who are less forgiving of loose ends may find the second half slightly frustrating even as the central romance continues to hold their attention.
The pacing issue in the second half deserves elaboration. The film's first act moves with considerable efficiency, establishing both characters and their respective worlds within a relatively compact timeframe. Once Param and Sundari's relationship begins to deepen, however, the narrative rhythm shifts. Several sequences that explore their growing connection, while emotionally resonant, do extend beyond what the story strictly requires. A viewer might reasonably feel that one or two of these sequences could have been trimmed without sacrificing the emotional arc. This is not a fatal flaw — many successful films take their time with romantic development — but it does represent a structural choice that will appeal more to some viewers than others. Those who prefer briskly paced entertainment may find themselves checking the runtime during the second half, whereas those who enjoy lingering with characters will likely appreciate the unhurried approach.
Next steps
Watch the trailer again to compare song placements with the finished cut. Check local theater listings for subtitles in multiple languages. Share viewing plans with family members who enjoy cross-regional stories.
