Somewhere down the film, deep in the midst of his downward slide into ignominy and despair, his friends try to console oddball salesman Harpreet Singh Bedi (Ranbir Kapoor) by telling him he's a nice guy, unfit for the unethical corporate jungle out there. But, mice are nice, scoffs HP, hating his own niceness and mousy inconsequence.

Poor HP. Doesn't he know nice guys always do finish first. Specially in a new world which has cried Yes, we can to a post-Lehman world order; and a new India that has embraced a similar mantra of change in both governance and the level of public tolerance. Indeed, Rocket Singh, scripted brilliantly by Jaideep Sahni, documents the new India we are currently seeing emerging before our eyes. One, where the common man is increasingly voicing his condemnation for both political and corporate corruption. Also, one where the consumer (read aam aadmi ) is truly king and vfm (value for money) is the only usp (unique selling proposition).

So, don't be bogged down by the slow pace and the docu-feature feel of the first half of Rocket Singh. Be patient and you'll end up realising this could be well be one of the most intelligent films of the year, showcasing the changing pulse of a nation that is learning to sift the grain from the chaff, the rubble from the concrete, the diamonds from the ashes. The film does take long -- laboriously long -- to introduce its characters and build up the plot which focuses on the travails of an honest-to-god, stars-in-my-eyes salesman who joins a computer firm, only to be taken aback at the first bribe that's demanded of him. Aap mazaq kar rahen hai , (you're joking) he tells the company manager who wants a kickback and files a complaint against him in the suggestions & complaints box. End result? He becomes a mazak in his own company, having been sent to the dog house and given his marching orders at the end of his training period. But there's an important lesson failure Harpreet has learnt from him wily manager, Nitin-with-the-natty-sideburns (excellent act) during is first sales demo. Even Spiderman has to take a risk, and you're just a puny salesman, his smart alec boss tells him as he pockets a fresh contract by hook or by crook.

Hence, it's Spiderman to the rescue....The second half just sky rockets onto another plane as Harpreet sheds a bit of his honesty for some hard-nosed business. No, his business isn't to make money. All he wants to do is avenge his humiliation and tell his boss he isn't a zero, a failure, a fool, a joker sardar...He teams up with the `item girl' (the intelligent, yet hot, Gauhar Khan), the peon (super), the porn king (D Santosh, brilliant) and forms his own company, offering partnerships to all. Naturally, the company rocks, the sales zoom, the rivals fume and the film crackles with a newfound energy. Because, as we said, HP loses just a bit of goodness, not all. At the core, he still remains the god-fearing, good soul, brought up on his dadaji's (Prem Chopra, also excellent) middle class morals and conducts his business on the basis of the current corporate ethics which put people before numbers, laugh lines (customer satisfaction) before bottomlines. So what's the difference between you and me, his defeated and disjointed boss asks him in the climax speech. You see numbers, I see people, Harpreet explains, before walking off with another promise. See you in the field!

Yup! HP is just another one amongst those few good men who we believe will charter a new course for the world in general. He's a brave little fella who doesn't balk before taking on the high and mighty and is just a wee bit wily -- of course, he plans to pay back all dues at an appropriate time. So that doesn't really make him dishonest. More importantly, he doesn't think a moment before making his peon his partner and ends up stealing your heart with his boy-next-door simplicity and non-heroic charms.

The winning duo of Shimit Amin and Jaideep Sahni may not be offering you a Chak De India this time round, but they do sculpt some rare moments on celluloid that end up redefining the pursuit of happiness as something more than mainu chaida, chaida, chaida! (I want, want, want!) After Ajab Prem ki Ghazab Kahani, Ranbir Kapoor once again proves he's amongst the top GenNow contenders for the Bollywood throne. His delineation of Harpreet Singh Bedi is completely the opposite of Prem: low key, restrained and recongnisable, with a slice-of-life realism. But he has a host of other brilliant actors supporting him in this unusual film which might have been India's answer to Wall Street, if it had kept it's editing tighter and more taut. Sadly, debutant Shazahn Padamsee has little to do, but Gauhar Khan more than makes up for the female cast with her power-packed act of a balsy receptionist. But the high point of the film are the punchy dialogues and the handful of scenes which touch your heart with their had-enough-of-dishonesty, let's-be-good-now India, feel.

A word about:

Performances: Watch out for another winsome performance by Ranbir Kapoor. He's definitely getting better with each new film. As Harpreet Singh Bedi, a pesky salesman you might have shoed away several times, he seems to have done his homework well. But he isn't alone in this film which works through its ensemble cast. Everyone seems to have been hell bent on redefining realism in their own modest way. And they do succeed.

Music: Nothing to boast about. An eminently forgettable score by Salim-Suleiman.

Cinematography: Vikash Nowlakha captures the corporate jungle and the cube farms aptly with his camera. Harpreet's decrepit corner, next to the store room is warm despite being an eyesore.

Story: Jaideep Sahni begins his story like a docu-feature on the life of a salesman and then enters a totally different realm, trying to create Bollywood's first contemporary feature on corporate greed.

Dialogues: Jaideep Sahni scores again. His lines are witty and vibrant, often bringing a smile to your face. And his climax scene is a knock-out, without being didactic.

Styling: Visually speaking, Harpreet is both one of the most authentic sardars of Indian cinema as well as being a perfect corporate fuchcha, with his commonplace striped shirts and banal ties.