There are several taboos in the society and one of the most unfortunate ones is the menstrual cycle of women. Director Abhishek Saxena marks his brave directorial debut with Phullu that talks about personal hygiene of women especially in villages. Phullu (Sharib Ali Hashmi), an ideal young man makes sanitary pads with left over cloth pieces and distributes among the women in his village. He is the matter of concern for his old mother Amma (Nutan Surya) who is against his profession.

Even before its release, the film Phullu has been in the news for the 'A' rating given to it by the Central Board of Film Certification. There have also been comparisons to the in-the-works Akshay Kumar-starrer Padman, a biopic on real-life menstrual hygiene revolutionary Arunachalam Muruganantham. Meanwhile, there have been calls on social media to support this 'small movie'.

Phullu (Sharib Ali Hashmi) is a jobless youth who lives with his hardworking mother (Nutan Surya) and a younger sister. He goes to city to buy stuff for the women in the village, but doesn't want to take up a job there. His mother gets him married to Bigni (Jyoti Sethi) in the hope that he will be more responsible, but he would rather spend time romancing his wife. During one of his visits to the city, he learns about the existence of sanitary pads and how the women of his village use waste clothes to stop their period flow and risk infection in the process.

Well-meaning films do not always translate into well-made films. Director Abhishek Saxena wishes to address the issue of the menstrual taboo and spread awareness regarding hygiene among the rural women of India. But his feeble incentives and simplistic endeavours don't quite add up or allow Phullu to become the heartfelt wake-up call it so desperately wants to be.

Phullu is a village youth who stays with his mother and sister. He is good for nothing as he does not do any work to earn in his village and is even reluctant to go to bigger cities and find a job. The only job he does is visiting the nearby town every now and then and buying goods for village households. The women often order him sanitary pads and Phullu brings them although he is unaware of what he is buying and what purpose it serves.

This film's intentions were noble - dispensing the public service message about the benefits of using sanitary pads over crude alternatives. But in execution, it becomes a tiresomely preachy affair that fails to interest, inspire or influence. Agreed, the monthly arrival of Aunt Blood in the life of most Indian women is greeted with shame, seclusion and social awkwardness. And given this construct, the story of a man who strives to separate the stigma attached to the female biological cycle, could've been little short of a superhero story.

If government-sponsored public service ads suddenly got bigger production budgets, they would look a lot like Phullu. Like a PSA, the movie over-emphasizes everything with straightforward lines mouthed by amateur actors who pause for effect as the melodramatic background score kicks in. It is a few steps above the anti-smoking spot that plays before movies, and a few steps below the Swachch Bharat campaign, that at least manages to evoke laughter while urging people to build lavatories.