Prem’s back, this time in the form of Sonu Sood, perhaps less fetching than his earlier contemporaries, but making up for it fabulously with confidence and earnestness.

This chap – Prem Ajmera has the usual filmi friends; one is a Muslim fellow who falls for the heroine’s sidekick named Firdaus, and there’s a Sardar in a pink turban called Happy Singh.

Vivaah (2006) had one wedding; this one has four. But the one vivaah that the film revolves around almost doesn’t happen. One finds the title delightfully apt, as we trace the lives of Chandni (Eesha Koppikar) and Prem (Sood) who fell in love during a singing competition. He saw her golden shoes and followed her around.

With that typical goofy hero-type grin, he watched her sing from behind the wall. Grin still stuck, he befriends her. Typical of films that were, there is an exaggerated description of the heroine’s beauty where her chiffon dupatta caresses her face ever so gently, inspiring the voyeur hero to pen an impromptu poetry.

Chandni finally reciprocates and the lovers get engaged. But as luck would have it, Chandni’s father (Alok Nath, same ol` act) expires the day before the marriage. This premise is somewhat reminiscent of Vivaah, where an unfortunate occurrence happens just when the protagonists are to wed.

Suddenly faced with the huge responsibility of taking care of her two kid siblings, Chandni is in a dilemma. Prem offers that Chandni’s siblings stay with them post-marriage, which ought to have settled the issue. But Prem’s mother, rather objectionably, suggests that it’s impossible for a woman to be a sister to her siblings and a wife to her husband at the same time, and so Chandni must choose.

She also sacrilegiously says that she wants a daughter-in-law who forgets about her maiden home and devotes herself entirely to her matrimonial one. Chandni therefore refuses to get married to Prem, who in turn decides to wait for her.

Chandni finds strength to open her own music school in the house and earns to fund her siblings’ education. Twelve years down the line, and both her siblings married, Chandni finally seems free of responsibility. But things are still not that simple. The villain arrives in the form of the modern (translating into evil, in Rajshri’s world) daughter-in-law who finds it difficult to live in the run-down home.

Story apart, even the film’s overall look belongs to decades ago. Eesha Koppikar is saddled with a bad hair and average make-up job. With overall styling given as much importance as any other technical aspect in a film these days, the film’s lack of attention to protagonists’ appearance (Eesha in horrid saris; Sood constantly in denim jackets) is alarming.

Naturally this causes the film to lose points on its overall production value. For a film that focuses a great deal on music, the songs are strictly average and far, far too many.

Cinematography is painfully old school and disconcertingly uses the soft focus abruptly on Eesha. The only technical aspect that delights is the art direction that brings out the nuances and lived-in feel of the small town ancestral home in Bhopal.

Dialogue is syrupy, unreal; like most Rajshri films. There’s even one where Chandni is lauded for being old-fashioned; an archaic moral standing.

Chandni’s characterisation is interesting, as it starts. In fact, as the strong-willed, independent girl who chooses to work and sustain her family, not accepting any help from her rich fiancé, this character is one that any actress would vie for. Unfortunately, and indeed it is sad, this character attains shades of unreasonable nobility.

She is praised for having sacrificed her ambition of becoming a singer for the sake of her siblings; she is lauded for accepting her future mother-in-laws unreasonable terms.

Here’s an example of a conversation that happens between Chandni and her about-to-be-married sister. The younger sister worries that now Chandni, who I am assuming is around age 31-32 at the time, will be all alone in the house. So Chandni says their uncle is going on a pilgrimage soon, and she’ll also join him, so there was no reason to worry.

I wasn’t surprised to hear the audience sniggering at this audacious, saint-like representation of a young woman. But then that’s the problem with the film – its essentially regressive gaze.

Despite the clichés and apparent ODing on drama, the film does manage to fleetingly make you feel for the characters and their impossible situations. Also refreshing was the innate strength of the heroine, who loves her fiancé but doesn’t sacrifice her responsibilities towards her siblings for him.

Like the good husband of Vivaah, this Prem too is entirely committed to his lady. Sood does a great job of playing this character; and Eesha too gives a commendable performance.

Debutant feature filmmaker Kaushik Ghatak comes from a background of television having directed over a hundred episodes of Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi. This influence and style is omnipresent through the film. Had the director mixed the traditional flavour (he shows marriages fixed upon a single meeting) with some of today’s practicalities, Ek Vivaah might have been a watchable film.

Recommended only for soap drama fans and those of the atypical Rajshri tear-inducer. Verdict: One-and-a-half stars