You’d think that a film about body confidence, which has Qureshi as both producer and protagonist, would be rich with insight and charm. After all, both Qureshi and Sinha have faced criticism for being curvier and heavier than the size-zero ideal of Hindi commercial cinema. While promoting Double XL, both actors have spoken about how this is the one film for which they weren’t asked to lose weight. Instead, both of them tucked into their favourite, fattening food and put on the kilos (approximately 20kg for Qureshi and 15kg for Sinha). Unfortunately, this film does its best to ignore that there is more to the characters Qureshi and Sinha are playing, than their weight. Rajshri mentions Rohit Sharma’s cricketing statistics once, but aside from that, there is nothing to suggest she has the makings of a good sports presenter. Her shining moment — which includes an unwittingly hilarious cameo — is supposed to be when she scores a coveted interview, but the script couldn’t be bothered with letting us hear the conversation that would establish Rajshri being knowledgeable about cricket. The film pretends Saira’s decision to be a designer for plus-sized women is unheard of, but more disappointingly, the designs she shows are monumentally unflattering. By the same token, both Qureshi and Sinha have been styled to look as drab as possible. It doesn’t help that the two women are saddled with love interests that are flatly disappointing. It’s difficult to decide what is more off-putting about Zorawar — his repeated insistence of “call me Zo, Zee, Zaa” or how happy he is with himself when he cracks a rape joke. Srikanth is presumably supposed to be the strong, silent type and as a result all we know about him is that he smokes weed and breaks into Tamil songs for no reason.
Double XL is desperate to be seen as a comedy and to this end, it strips Rajshri and Saira’s stories of all emotional complexity. For instance, the scene in which Saira is seen weeping in a bathroom could have been a tender moment and shown that way, it would have felt instantly relatable to countless people who have found themselves in similar situations. Instead, the scene plays out against a comic soundtrack and Saira howls melodramatically, turning misery into a ham-handed performance. We’re encouraged to laugh at Saira and Rajshri, and they’re tasked with delivering punchlines for our entertainment.In her legendary stand-up special Nanette, comedian Hannah Gadsby had said, “I have built a career out of self-deprecating humour and I don’t want to do that anymore. Do you understand what self-deprecation means when it comes from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s not humility, it’s humiliation.” This is what Double XL does to Saira and Rajshri. It humiliates them by reducing them to tokens and pretends that this is the only way to package clever, unconventional women as acceptable to an audience of commercial cinema.
