There is one point in The Archies, Zoya Akhtar’s made for Netflix film, when you glimpse its possibilities.

It’s the song sequence, “O Ruby you are my plum pudding”, at a 20th wedding anniversary party. There is such bonhomie, sweetness, maza and togetherness, I won’t deny my heart ached with a sense of loss. It reminded me of parties my parents had at Air Force stations, whose stone buildings, strict librarians and rosette icing trifle puddings were suffused with colonial pasts. A double memory of fun backlit the faces that filled my television 90s—Kamal Sidhu, Luke Kenny, Tara Sharma, Koel Purie. This is one of the few times the film felt Indian to me. It felt like a 2023 version of Ae meri zohra jabeen (Waqt) or My heart is beating (Julie)— songs that provided a similar fantasy of mischief and warmth in older movies.