A goofy, hilarious satire. Two rival wedding planners—one from Chandigarh, one from Brampton—accidentally get trapped inside an AI-generated "Perfect Punjab" metaverse during a software glitch. To escape, they must successfully host a virtual wedding for a Punjabi ghost. The humor comes from cultural clashes: a Bhangra step that corrupts the code, a Lassi that's just a blue screen of death. It's a commentary on how we perform "Punjabiness" online versus who we really are. The climax is the two rivals falling in love, not in VR, but when they finally unplug and see each other's real, tired, smiling faces in a dusty real-world internet café.

Heer isn't a damsel waiting by a well. She's a dairy cooperative CEO fighting a multinational corporation trying to steal her land for a chemical plant. Ranjha? He’s not a flute player; he’s a suspended cop from Hoshiarpur who believes in organic farming. Their romance is built on late-night strategy meetings, sneaking legal documents, and one rainy dance number inside a half-built cold storage unit. The villain is her own uncle, corrupted by corporate greed. The famous "taking the well" scene becomes "taking the boardroom"—Heer exposes the fraud via a live Instagram feed from the Annual General Meeting.

The next morning, Bauji tracked down five rebellious filmmakers. He didn't give them a script. He gave them a mission .

No romance. A brutal, beautiful drama. A young farmer, Chann, returns from Australia not with a suitcase of dollars, but with a degree in regenerative agriculture. His father, a traditional wheat farmer drowning in debt, disowns him. The conflict isn't a villain—it’s the unfeeling sky: a drought that never ends. Chann fights to convince his stubborn village to switch to ancient millets and new water-saving tech. The emotional core is a silent scene where the father, after failing his own crop, secretly watches his son’s experimental field flourish in the moonlight. No song-and-dance. Just the sound of wind and a single tumbi string.