Twinkling Watermelon
"A poignant film coming from today's generation."
Perhaps, I would say these words, if I were a white man in his thirties, who'd still urge his children not to be themselves and instead, fulfill his own checklist of desires imposed on them in the name of discipline. Surely, this 16-episode series doesn't glamorize this, and it is exactly why I've quoted these words.
Twinkling Watermelon is certainly deserving of a 55-page long love letter that'd be sent to the director through a fax machine; we do not see the film taking advantage of the "generational gap" to highlight any kind of differences that makes the older generation superior, nor do we see the film showing parental love as parallel to "divine incarnation". Rather, the audience is allowed to perceive parents as "mere humans" whose lives were also shaped by traumatic experiences.
Indeed, if we look back at whatever Twinkling Watermelon teaches us, we're bound to realize that the modern generation doesn't need a "Baghban" in order to learn how to respect their parents. Dismissing the kids' struggle and the dismissal of their desires never works. In truth, we need a film like Twinkling Water, which can provide a detailed study of the parents' past that has shaped their current mindset.
If you looked this movie up, because you fancied watching a "light-hearted romance", then also it works. Healthy relationships always work in the cinema! And yes, you don't see men behaving aggressively, as some embodiment of "fierce protection" here. They do "protect", but it's their actions that speak loud about their protective nature, and certainly not tedious monologues.
(For me, personally, diving into the life of a CODA rather than making one of the deaf characters a lead was the wisest decision from the film's side, for it underscores the caretaker's mental fatigue.)
Give this film a pass, if you're a fan of Andrew Tate, or if you shed tears at the sight of the alpha character depicted by Ranbir Kapoor crying for his emotionally unavailable father, simply to turn out worse than him. You can also give this film a pass, if you're an ableist. In a nutshell, if you're someone who needs to be spit from across the globe, thanks to the absence of your personality, give this film a pass. Give me a pass! I hate you with all my guts.