Hanji Kaun 2025 is a Punjabi crime comedy that confidently steps away from the usual romantic or action heavy plots common in the industry and instead delivers a tightly paced blend of humor, mystery and absurd chaos. Directed by Fateh Dhawan and produced by The Mild Pictures in collaboration with White Hill Studios, the film takes what could have been a straightforward whodunit and flips it into an over the top comedic ride filled with misunderstandings, bizarre incidents and quirky characters.
The premise revolves around a group of friends who plan what should be a simple relaxed get together. Things take a sudden turn when a massage session ends with the shocking discovery of a dead body. This initial shock sets the tone for a chain reaction of unpredictable events as more complications and even more dead bodies seem to appear from nowhere. The central gimmick of the movie where every knock on the door prompts the anxious and suspicious “Hanji Kaun” or “Yes, who is it” becomes not just a running joke but also a storytelling device that heightens both suspense and comedy.
The film thrives on its ensemble cast with Love Gill and Nisha Bano leading the way. Their chemistry feels unforced and both play their roles with a natural flair for timing, which is essential in a script where the humor relies heavily on awkward pauses, mistaken identities and physical comedy.
Gurchet Chitarkar’s presence adds an extra layer of charm as his knack for deadpan delivery perfectly complements the escalating ridiculousness. Ashish Duggal’s grounded performance works as a counterbalance to the exaggerated antics, giving viewers a momentary anchor before the next wave of chaos hits.
One of the strongest aspects of Hanji Kaun is its pacing. At roughly one hundred minutes, the film wastes no time dragging out unnecessary scenes or over explaining its jokes. Instead, it trusts the audience to keep up with its rapid fire twists and layered misunderstandings. Fateh Dhawan’s direction ensures that each scene has a purpose.
Even the seemingly quiet moments are laced with subtle gags or clues that feed into later payoffs. The cinematography keeps the setting lively despite most of the action taking place indoors. This limited physical space becomes a strength rather than a weakness as the script cleverly uses every knock on the door, every misplaced item and every poorly timed entry to escalate the tension and keep the audience guessing.
The humor is very much rooted in Punjabi cultural nuances, yet the universal appeal of mistaken identity farce makes it accessible to a broader audience. Those familiar with regional comedic styles will appreciate the sharpness of the dialogues, many of which are sprinkled with double meanings and sarcastic undertones.
The movie also does a good job of balancing slapstick with situational humor. There are moments where the absurdity peaks, such as frenzied attempts to hide evidence or accidentally revealing secrets in front of the wrong people, but these never feel tacked on just for cheap laughs. Instead, they are part of an organic escalation that keeps building until the very end.
The mystery element, while secondary to the comedy, is handled with enough care to keep viewers engaged. The identity of the killer or the true cause behind the strange events is not immediately obvious and the screenplay resists the temptation to reveal everything too soon. This allows the audience to play along, piecing together clues while still enjoying the chaos. The eventual reveal is satisfying not because it is overly clever but because it ties together the many loose threads in a way that feels consistent with the film’s tone, unexpected yet perfectly fitting for the absurd world it builds.
From a technical standpoint, the film is polished without losing its casual charm. The sound design plays a crucial role, especially with the recurring doorbell and knocks which trigger the film’s central running gag. The background score complements the action without overpowering it, often shifting between suspenseful beats and playful tunes depending on the mood of the scene. Costumes and set design reflect the everyday familiarity of middle class Punjabi households, grounding the outlandish events in a relatable space.
Where Hanji Kaun truly shines is in its ability to keep viewers entertained from start to finish without feeling like it is stretching its jokes too thin. Each character, no matter how minor, contributes something to the mayhem. This ensemble approach not only adds depth to the story but also ensures that there is always something happening in the background, rewarding attentive viewers with small comedic details they might miss on the first watch.
Another commendable aspect is the way the film embraces its absurdity without apologizing for it. Too often, comedies will try to insert forced moments of seriousness to give themselves weight, but Hanji Kaun understands that its strength lies in keeping the audience laughing and guessing until the credits roll.
It does not try to be more profound than it needs to be, and that self awareness works in its favor. This is not to say the film lacks heart. The camaraderie among the friends and their desperation to get out of trouble without betraying one another gives the story a warm undertone, even when things spiral into complete madness.
Of course, no film is without flaws. There are a few moments where the editing could have been tighter, and some jokes lean slightly on clichés, particularly for seasoned fans of Punjabi comedies. However, these are minor quibbles in an otherwise well executed narrative. The performances are strong enough to carry even the more predictable moments, and the film’s brisk runtime means nothing lingers long enough to become tiresome.
The decision to bypass a theatrical release and go straight to OTT on Chaupal and OTTplay Premium feels like a smart move given the film’s tight, home friendly setting and rewatch value. This is the kind of comedy that works equally well whether you are watching it alone or with a group of friends, pausing to laugh at the absurdity or rewinding a particularly funny exchange. The digital release also means the film can reach Punjabi speaking audiences worldwide without the logistical challenges of a limited theatrical rollout.
Hanji Kaun is more than just a silly comedy. It is a reminder of how creative storytelling can thrive when it embraces the limits of its premise instead of trying to inflate it into something it is not. The film does not rely on star power or over the top action sequences to keep viewers hooked. Instead, it banks on sharp writing, committed performances and the kind of relatable humor that comes from watching ordinary people react to extraordinarily bizarre situations.