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A Gentleman
Directors: Ran and DK
Cast: Sidharth Malhotra, Jacqueline Fernandez, Darshan Kumar, Suniel Shetty

Three years after delivering the Saif Ali Khan-starrer dud, Happy Ending, directors Krishna DK and Raj Nidimoru – now called just Raj and DK – are back with a another bid at the box office. Their latest venture – A Gentleman – starring Jacqueline Fernandez and Sidharth Malhotra which hit the theatres on Friday, is an exciting ride.

A Gentleman traces the story of two Sidharths – one is a traditionally good guy with a high-paid job, a grand house in Miami and a family but one who cannot even claim his own credit in an IT office. The other one is what our heroine (Jacqueline) digs for – adventurous, risky and street-smart. The mixing up of the two identities creates confusion, danger and forms the crux of the film.

The film starts on a rather understated, but flashy note – foreign locations, characters flaunting designer clothes and fake accents, cliched characterisation and very predictable sequences.

However, A Gentleman picks up the pace and the juxtaposition of the two Sidharths makes it an engaging to watch, if not entirely gripping.

The quintessential Raj and DK touch – quirky dialogues, funny scenes, smart one-liners on ‘modernism’ and a practical side to the filmy narrative – is sprayed all over in just the perfect quantity.

‘Sundar and susheel’ Gaurav being friend-zoned by Kavya (Jacqueline) offers a great dose of laughter while the ‘risky Rishi’ and his sweet dream (he wants to quit his life of guns and deaths and make a home with a loving wife, a dog and a few kids) shows us the other side of this ‘grey’ character. These are two characters that are poles apart but yearn for the same thing.

Both Sidharth and Jacqueline are quite fun to watch. That they mostly have to be flashy, cheeky and very, very Bollywood in their execution also helps.

Supriya Pilgaonkar and Rajit Kapoor have small roles as Kavya’s parents but they manage to leave a remarkable impression. Darshan Kumar, who plays the second fiddle to Suniel Shetty’s character delivers another strong performance. Suniel, however, turns out to be disappointing after a stylish entry into the film. He fails to portray the I-only-mean-business guy who is supposed to be brutal. Darshan clearly is the better villain here.

A Gentleman is not a flawless film, it is full of cliches and typecasts the characters – be it casting black men as the foot soldiers of the villain, their language or even the ringtone of his phone. Even the climax action sequence conforms to decades old cliche – the hero’s anger is at its worst when poked about the heroine. The songs of A Gentleman also disrupt the narrative and do not take the story any further.

But Raj and DK have managed to narrate the plain and full-of-cliches story in their own quirky style and their dialogues and the screenplay make it fun to watch.

Rating:

Movie Review: A Gentleman

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Nagpur: In how many different ways can you talk about erectile dysfunction? Let Shubh Mangal Saavdhan show you. A Parle G biscuit limply falling into a cup of tea illustrates this “gents problem”. It’s the running metaphor for Delhi boy Mudit’s issues.

After fancying Sugandha (Bhumi Pednekar) from afar, Mudit (Ayushmaan Khurrana) finally musters up the courage to approach her, only to be affectionately attacked by a performing bear. It’s a scene that’s more red herring than symbolic of the tone of humour in RS Prasanna’s film. Based on his own 2013 Tamil hit, Kalyana Samayal Saadham, the Hindi remake has been adapted to a North Indian setting with its own particular idioms and quirks by writer Hitesh Kewalya.

Demonstrating his inability to stand up for himself, Mudit takes the easy way out and sends an online marriage proposal. At first Sugandha is disappointed that an arranged marriage could rob her of her long-cherished dream of a Bollywood style courtship and romance, complete with elopement and melodrama. Prasanna uses a montage of film clips to show a kind of scrapbook of Sugandha’s wedding wishes.

But when it seems like the families are gung-ho about the match, Sugandha decides that she will ensure she finds love in an arranged marriage. The process of getting to know each other leads to a night of intimacy and Mudit revealing his problem. This sets off a chain of events involving both families, but Prasanna’s story focusses on the growing relationship between the boy and girl and Mudit’s coming of age. As the couple tackles an issue that might impact the rest of their lives, the families get busy organising a destination wedding in Haridwar.

Kewalya and Prasanna get many of the nuances right with Mudit using words like “loyaltyness”, “resume” for résumé and “oneon” in place of onion. There’s a poignant scene in which Sugandha tries to seduce Mudit after taking inspiration from an adult movie. It’s a bittersweet moment which both the actors nail.

Another fine scene is when Sugandha’s mother (played impressively by Seema Pahwa) tries to have the birds and bees chat with her daughter, using the metaphor of Ali Baba and a cave. Pahwa is given some of the choicest one-liners such as comment on the wedding in Haridwar when she says a destination wedding means fewer people will come and the those who do can wash off their sins at the same time. The performance by Sugandha’s father is particularly noteworthy.

Ayushmann Khurrana is very watchable as the 26-year-old boy becoming a man. His growth as an actor is evident in the quieter moments when Mudit broods about his situation and the louder ones when he stands up for his choices. Khurrana and Pednekar share an affable chemistry and she embraces her character with resourcefulness.

The cinematography, production design and a crisp 105 minutes running time add to the appeal of Shubh Mangal Saavdhan. The screenplay manages to walk the line between crass and preachy, keeping the balance between comedy, romance and the sensitivities around a taboo topic. However, a collection of nice moments and thoughts is untidily stitched together.

It’s ironic that in a film about erectile dysfunction the story should go flaccid in the climax. And a gratuitous cameo adds to the befuddlement as to why the filmmaker felt the need to derail an otherwise-neat little romcom.

Rating –

Shubh Mangal Saavdhan definitely ‘lifts up your’…..mood?

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Ask any actor of some worth. It is not easy to play a known living character. Audiences and the character that you are playing, plus their close associates, judge the performance with scrutinized harshness and normally find it wanting. Not this time. Not Arun Gawli. Not Arjun Rampal, who has shaped into one of Hindi cinema’s most dependable actors who does his roles with such smooth efficiency and such noiseless excellence that we are liable to miss the point.

Don’t make the mistake of confusing Arjun’s laidback wisdom in portraying the gangster-philanthropist-parliamentarian-convict Arun Gawli as a Devgn-esque laziness. This is a power-packed implosive performance. Rampal plays Gawli as a time bomb waiting to explode. There are no extra toppings, fringe benefits, perks or bonuses to this performance.

Rampal plays it straight. Director Ashim Ahluwalia gives the actor no room to stretch out his character’s inner world. Fleeting looks and fugitive gestures add up to making Rampal’s Gawli one of the most comprehensive projections of guilty gangsterism in recent times.

Comparisons are not called-for. But I can’t help compare Rampal’s Gawli with Shah Rukh Khan’s Raees. The two sagas of Robin Hoods with furious FIRs on their wanted heads, bear many similarities. Except that Shah Ruh could never enter his gangster character’s world.

Arjun goes right in. He is the only recognizable face (provided his physical and emotional transformation leaves any room for recognition) in the vast cast of what I suspect to be several real-life anti-socials. Cannily, the director builds the quirks around killings and feuds of criminal clans through actors who surrender to their characters with a brutal velocity.

Watch out for Rajesh Shringapure as Gawli’s accomplice Rama and Farhan Akhtar playing Dawood as so cool, you may confuse the jungle for the greenery. There is a brilliant conniving female character Rani (played with smouldering slyness by Shruti Bapna) who uses sex as an ATM machine. Rani tells part of Gawli’s stories. Other people associated with his life tell the rest.

Daddy Movie Review: A still from the film

The editors piece together the saga with layered urgency. This is not an easy story to tell or for us to comprehend. There is no room here for any actor, least of all Rampal, to strut with guns and appear even remotely macho. If you are looking for a stylish take on gangsterism, look elsewhere.

Besides its technical excellence, the biggest achievement of Daddy is its portrayal of violence as swift, repugnant and utterly ugly. The shootouts and here I would like to commend action director Shyam Kaushal, are brutal, terse and to the point. The killers do their business with swift professionalism leaving no room for self-congratulatory paeans to violence that Tarantino, Coppola and nearer home, Mukul Anand and Mani Ratnam have specialized in.

In one notably savage attack, a petty gangster infiltrates a jail cell and pounds an inmate to a pulp after shooting him. What we see is the gut-churning fury of violence in all the graphic sequences of gangrenous gang wars where we hear every bone crunch with the wince-inducing impact of a blow delivered in our popcorn-munching faces.

For me, the real hero of Daddy, besides Rampal (and some, not all, of his co-actors) is the sound editor Sangik Basu followed by the cinematographer Jessica Lee Agne aided by Pankaj Kumar who bring to the frames a sinking feeling of an unwashed blood-soaked doom.

The narrative spares no smiles and laughter in portraying Gawli as a reluctant gangster forced to pull the trigger against his better judgment. There are smirks galore, though. I’ve yet to see a film that has more characters displaying sneering contempt for their adversaries. If there are five characters on screen, each one is doing something that will drive the plot forward.

In one brilliantly conceived shootout, the policeman Vijaykar (Nishikant Kamat, unrecognizable) ceaselessly on Gawli’s trail, interrogates Gawli’s mother (veteran Usha Naik).

“Does he owe you money? Why are you after his life?” she mumbles.

Strain hard to listen. The sounds of death, violence, corruption and decay are omniscient in this saga of a man who would rather be a messiah. The problem here is there are so many characters colonizing Gawli’s perverse kingdom played by actors who don’t act, and the unsparing editing (Deepa Bhatia, Navnita Sen Dutta) that won’t let the audience breathe in the toxic fumes of fury for long. Consequently, many of the dark disturbing characters are lost to us.

So here’s what we do: watch the film very, very closely. It is a difficult but finally hugely rewarding experience. The performances are so minutely non-bravura that the characters are so into their world of self-destruction that we are left looking in without ever being allowed to be part of the design of doom.

See the film, maybe twice over to get the nuances. See it for the austere unflinching portrayal of violence. For sounds and visuals that do not afford us the luxury of aesthetic gratification. And most of all, for Arjun Rampal’s powerful performance that creeps up on us without warning.

Rating –

Arjun Rampal packs the punch with stellar performance in Daddy

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If anyone had any doubt that an Indian leading lady cannot carry a full film on her shoulders, banish that thought. Kangana Ranaut drives from the front seat, and everyone else follows.

While that is an entirely wonderful thing, that also becomes a failing. Because there’s altogether too much of Kangana in the film: the story gives her enough to do in the first half, and we are fully engaged and absorbed. And, then it slides into slushy territory. That’s called too much of a good thing.

The good things first. Ranaut’s Praful Patel is a woman who has a job, a complicated family life, and she is ambitious. For herself. Which makes her a rare creature in mainstream Bollywood where the leading ladies are referenced through their men.

Praful is in the housekeeping department in a hotel, and is determinedly blue collar. She pats down beds, cleans sinks, pushes a vacuum, and fends off unwelcome advances from colleagues. Her parents, the crotchety Pappa and loving ma are well drawn too: Praful is no sugar and spice and everything nice, and her interactions with her folks feel real.

But the plot gets into a loop, and her slide into another avatar — the gambler and thief– becomes tiresome.

Kangana keeps us watching, though. With her plain varnished face, she comes across as a real, solid, complex woman, someone you can reach out and touch. When she’s on the top of her game, she’s glorious. Pity the storyline let’s her down.

Rating –

Simran Review : Kangana plays up her antics in flawed story

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Rajkumar Rao’s fresh outing ‘Newton’ is brilliantly carved movie devised on voting system in India. Now as the movie has made its way into Oscars as India’s official entry, a substance has been added to it.

‘Newton’ could be called A Day In The Life Of The World’s Largest, Most Complex Democracy. Or, The Great Indian Electoral Circus.

The film takes us down the tangled jungles of Chattisgarh, over-run by Naxals and security details and other inimical forces, intersected on that fine day by an upright, uptight election officer Newton (Rao), and his companions– school-teacher Malko (Patil) and seasoned polling veteran Loknath (Yadav), who understands just how important a deck of playing cards is to the process.

It’s rare that an Indian film uses dark comedy to make its points so effectively: in ‘Newton’ we go from smiling to laughing outright even at its grimmest, because the film is light on its feet, and the tone is consistent right through.

Who do the Dandakaranaya forests, with their vast mining reserves, now depleted by the rapacity of greedy corporates, in tandem with corrupt, lazy government officials and complicit security forces, belong to? The Adivasis who have lived there for centuries, or the state, who owns us all? And even more importantly, just what does being a citizen of a democracy mean, on paper, and the way it plays out in real life.

These are questions—hard, jabbing, courageous—that our films do not ask enough. For years they have been the purview of bleeding heart academics, left-leaning persuaders, and hard-nosed news reporters. ‘Newton’ is a film to celebrate because it shows without telling, laying out the layers without descending into shrillness or facile solutions.

Director Amit V Masurkar and co-scriptwriter Mayank Tewari have crafted a strong black comedy. It is as sharp and subversive as the classic ‘Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro’, and even though it is entirely sobering, it leaves us feeling just a little better about ourselves. The redeemer is the resolute Nutan Kumar aka Newton (Rao), a small cog in the giant wheel of nation-keeping, whose dedication to the job is both funny in the truest way, and exemplary. And one of the funniest bits is the completely inadvertent connection between a loaded gun, and the smooth passage of that crucial democratic rites-of-passage: voting.

Rajkummar Rao is enjoying a purple patch. After ‘Bareilly Ki Barfi’, here he is again stitching up a big performance full of small things: blinking, thinking, doing. He is at his most interesting when he is being quiet: he makes us watch. Pankaj Tripathi, as the head of the security detail, cynical yet doing the best he can, is lovely too. For once the talented Patil has been used well, and as for Raghubir Yadav, he gives us, after ‘Peepli Live’, another stand-out act, a lesson in How To Immerse Yourself Effortlessly In Your Role.

Except for momentary descent into needless cliché (a foreign TV hack who has clearly helicoptered in on an ‘Indian election tourism’ tour), and a couple of flat notes, ‘Newton’ stays firmly on course. Join it.

Rating:

Newton Review : Rajkumar Rao presses the right button again!

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That ‘Judwaa 2’ is a reboot of the original ‘Judwaa’ is well known. That Varun Dhawan has loud comic chops is also well established. The question was always going to be: is the new version the gag-a-minute laugh-out-loud comedy that it promises to be?

Short answer: nope. The laughs are too scattered. Some scenes do make us guffaw; I found myself doubling over a couple of times; a few were quite chuckalcious. But for a David Dhawan film, this just isn’t enough: there’s too much slack, and a couple of japes are repeated so often that they get tiresome.

For those who do not remember the original, here’s a little recap. Prem and Raj (Varun, doing a double) are twins separated at birth. One grows up as a Ganapati Bappa loving tapori, who always wins in a scrum; the other is a piano-playing, ‘chashma’-wearing ‘seedha-saadha’ type who can’t raise his fists even. The twins, the girls they romance (Fernandez, Pannu), and the large supporting cast comprising ‘bachpan-mein-bichade’ mom-dad, best friends, villains, sidekicks all fetch up in London town, and go round and round till the big reveal.

Which happens well after it should have. And well after the jokes have curled up with overuse. When you first hear ‘Watermelon’, rhyming with ‘Dhillon’, you crack a smile. But not after the nth iteration of the clueless Punjabi cop and his overweight female partner: the latter is supposed to be funny because she is, in one word, fat. Sigh.
How long can the sight of native Africans in indigenous costumes be a trigger for laughter? It’s just a flash, but still. Duh, racism. Ditto for a character’s speech impairment: in his heyday, Dhawan could be hugely and flagrantly politically incorrect and still be funny because his writing was so sharp and the pace was so zippy that there was no time to think.

For a comedy whose plot would make a wafer look thin, the lines have to be razor sharp, and delivered in just the right rhythm. This is where the director falters, even as his son tries his best to give us two for the price of one on the other end of the screen.

Varun wades fully into both characters, and shows a nimble-footedness here and there. He is better at the broad, physical, crotch-lowering ‘gali ka gunda’, than the straight, subdued fella, and judging by the roars and claps of the mostly youthful crowd at the first-day, first-show, he knows it too. Fernandez and Pannu show up and do what they need to when called for: squeal and act surprised and swing to the beat; the latter making the most of her part. Pannu is the real surprise here, and a welcome one.

But the material gets too thin and stretched around Judwaa 2’s flab. A character keeps saying: ‘main seedha point pe aata hoon’. You wish the film did too.

Want to see what David Dhawan was capable of when he was on point? Watch the rollicking ‘Aankhen’, and while you’re at it, even the earlier ‘Judwaa’, when asking a girl out for a ‘nau se baarah’ show had real sting.

This one is strictly the Multiplex Millennial Two Point Oh version.

Rating:

Judwaa 2 loses steam despite full on energy!

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Chef is a nothing film. The 2014 film about a food truck selling cuban sandwiches is predictable to the point of having zero plot, but it does function as an interesting vehicle for allegory. Director Jon Favreau, who wrote and starred in the film, had just been let go from the Marvel Cinematic Universe after directing the first two Iron Man movies, and this film – where a successful but mercurial chef left behind formulaic and predictable cooking to go back to basics and make something small with a lot of heart – was a little film Favreau used to tell his own story, and even got superhero stars like Robert Downey Jr and Scarlett Johannson to wink alongside him.

(We must here note that the underdog life Favreau celebrated didn’t last all that long. He followed up this personal and unambitious feature with The Jungle Book, which made close to a billion dollars worldwide. This was produced by Disney, who own his former employers Marvel Studios, and they are also backing Favreau’s next film, a giant live-action adaptation of The Lion King. Just goes to show that men used to blockbuster caviar cannot live on cuban sandwiches alone.)

The Hindi remake Chef, directed by Raja Krishna Menon, is free of this Favreau-esque paralleling, though it does go somewhat meta with Saif Ali Khan playing a man who got in trouble for beating up a man in a restaurant, something Khan did a few years ago and evidently regrets, using this film to play responsible dad and tell a young stand-in for his teenage son that he did a bad thing. As a matter of fact, this Chef remake seems all too eager to provide teachable moments, and it does so with all the subtlety of garam masala. Menon’s film has decent actors, but the script is painful and the direction clunky, and the overall result far too insipid and flavourless.

Khan isn’t bad in the film, and, while watching him in his kitchen whites yelling furiously at his staff appears too unrealistic – it all looks very Marco Pierre White-Privilege – the actor has learnt how to handle a knife. He also treats food with delicate reverence, be it covering up a hand-rolled ball of dough with a cloth or gently sliding pasta onto a bowl with his fingers so that it sits just so. It is also good to see Khan playing closer to his age, referring to himself as middle-aged and serving up cringeworthy dad-jokes and puns. He isn’t even attempting to be a charmer, which, as women keep trying to tell us, can be rather charming.

The film starts with Khan’s Roshan Kalra getting fired from his own New York restaurant – the words “three Michelin stars” are frequently bandied about – and he heads to Cochin to spend time with his son and his ex-wife. Played by Padmapriya Janakiraman, this character of a bright-eyed danseuse who knows what she wants and can draw a line around it, is refreshing for Hindi cinema, as is the Kochi background. As the film knowingly comments, Kerala is possibly as alien to a leading man from Chandni Chowk as London, if not more. The film is thus about Kalra, his son Armaan (played by an endearing Svar Kamble) and a food-truck they set up, rediscovering the father’s roots and rejuvenating his relationship with his son.

There are some nice moments to be found, largely because Khan and Kamble have a fine father-son vibe, and because actors like Chandan Roy Sanyal and Ram Gopal Bajaj can bring authenticity to any project – even when all Bajaj is doing is despondently ripping up a roti. It is also entertaining to see the ineffably handsome Milind Soman as Bijju, the wealthy man in love with Kalra’s ex-wife. Janakiraman looks good with Khan, who is, in turn, endearing as he blows on a chutney spoon before giving it to his son for a taste. These are, however, flashes in a mostly unexciting pan. The film shows us a lot of food being prepared but holds no culinary insight or genuinely exciting artistry, and while surrounded by all manner of intriguing Kerala food, the dish Kalra chooses to make and market is basically potatoes/keema stuffed, with cheese, in a couple of rotis. They call it Rotzza, and the first syllable describes the appeal best.

The one truly memorable moment in Chef – at least for those of a certain vintage – is when Khan makes a clever reference to a twenty year old buddy film. It’s a fine line, and there is something heartening about the fact that Khan looks to finally outgrow his greatest triumph by laughing about it. Chef holds no secret sauce of its own, but perhaps we shouldn’t be that surprised. There is only that much you can do with a reheated film.

Rating –

Chef Review : Saif dishes out yet another flavourless film

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There are several things that Secret Superstar, a tale of a repressed teenager in a town in Gujarat, gets right.

Firstly, the culture of fear that accompanies years of systemic domestic abuse and patriarchy is searingly brought out from a 15-year-old girl’s perspective in director Advait Chandan’s debut feature.

Secondly, the protagonist, Zaira Wasim, as the spirited Insia who is desperate to make it big as a singer, strikes the perfect balance of being vulnerable and being armed steely resolve. She isn’t jaded and her struggle to break free from the clutches that weigh her down feels real.

It’s also rare to see a Hindi film explore the family dynamic of those experiencing domestic abuse. The second-hand hurt that children face in fractured households and the silent spectators who allow abuse to continue is driven home succinctly.

Meher Vij, as Insia’s troubled mother, shines as a badgered, complex housewife and makes her viewers turn into cheerleaders by the end of the film.

The chemistry and the deep bond that she shares with her daughter is heart-warming.

Also, underlining the stellar ensemble cast is actor Raj Arjun, who plays the predatory parent.

The scenes in which he pummels his wife, before asking his son to be taken to the other room so that his preferred male heir doesn’t witness his bestial behaviour, is chilling.

It was also a relief to see a Bollywood A-lister such as Aamir Khan make way for the women to shine in the drama. He features predominantly in the second-half, and his outlandish behaviour as a fading musician, Shakti Kumar, is gratingly over-the-top and over theatrical. In some of the scenes, his physical movements are so exaggerated that it makes you wince. Perhaps, Khan’s flamboyant act was to inject some much-needed humour into the film. There are a few snide jokes that land, but some get lost in his over-acting, bordering buffoonery.

But if you are looking for strong performances from the lead trio, Wasim, Vij and Arjun, then there’s much to appreciate here. Their warped middle-class existence and their interdependence for each other are highlights.

But, all isn’t picture perfect in Secret Superstar.

The unnecessary sheen in chapters showcasing Insia’s flush of first love and her swift ascent into singing stratosphere is a bit of a stretch. The simplistic way in which Insia amasses millions of fans through a series of social media posts and song uploads and her breakthrough into the highly clannish Bollywood industry isn’t wholly believable. While the first half prided itself in being melodrama-free, the climax makes up for it by cranking up the theatrics.

But don’t that stand in your way of enjoying this film that is fuelled by absorbing performances. This film is also a fine example of a Bollywood superstar letting others shine.

Rating – ***

Secret Superstar : A Mothers and Daughters Delight

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Vikram Sethi (Sidharth Malhotra) is a London-based mystery writer. His last book hasn’t done well, and he is under pressure to deliver a bestseller. He is in India to launch his next, but circumstances take a strange turn when his wife’s body is discovered in a Mumbai hotel.

It’s natural for the police, led by Dev Verma (Akshaye Khanna), to arrest Vikram after he flees the scene of the crime. But the man turns out to be a slippery customer — he gives them the slip and scoots, again!

Vikram is nabbed a second time at the house of a total stranger, Maya Sinha (Sonakshi Sinha). What’s more, her husband’s body is there too.

The police now face a problem of plenty. They have two bodies, two prime suspects and a number of secondary suspects in what once seemed like an open-and-shut case.

A remake of 1969 hit of the same name, this movie uses Mumbai’s rain-prone environment as a suitable backdrop for the murder mystery. The hazy weather and closed spaces spread a canvas and bracket the audience’s view. It’s all very linear, so one needn’t have a prior understanding of the relationships between the major characters.

A large part of the action takes place on staircases and inside dimly lit apartments. You know how claustrophobic city landscapes can get at times. Weird things happen in the middle of congested zones, and there are no witnesses despite the sea of people forever flooding the place. Notice how bodies keep turning up in locked apartments many a week too late?

Debutante director Abhay Chopra plays with our mind by not introducing many secondary story arcs in the plot. This technique makes us focus solely on the murders, with blinkers on.

From love to seduction and betrayal, Chopra uses every trick in the book. Akshaye Khanna’s cop is under pressure to solve the case within the stipulated period. It seems like an open-and-shut case at times, but what if the murders are not connected, or connected? What if all this is actually by chance (Ittefaq)?

It’s not ‘the butler did it’ kind of crime as the director gives ample hints of a logical conclusion through the 100-minute film. Anything less than a sensible conclusion would have amounted to shortchanging the audience. Luckily, that doesn’t happen.

However, one major problem with Ittefaq is the lack of intensity. Sonakshi Sinha and Sidharth Malhotra take a lot of time adjusting to their surroundings. That reminds me of Ram Gopal Varma’s terrific psychological drama Kaun (1999), which worked mostly because of its lead cast. Ittefaq must have looked much better on paper.

Though Sinha continues to struggle with her part till the bitter end, Malhotra begins to hit the right notes after a while. That helps the film a great deal.

You know how investigative officers are used as storytellers in such films. Here, Khanna plays that role with ease, finesse and poise. He binds the story together.

Rating –

Ittefaq Review : Guessing game keeps your engrossed

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You have broken up but not quite moved on. Your life is a series of what-ifs and if-nots. You want to put yourself out there and look for the ‘other fish in the sea,’ but can’t quite bring yourself to do it. If you have answered in the affirmative to any of the above written sentences, congratulations, you are almost single, or, as this film claims, you are Qarib Qarib Singlle. And what’s the next best thing for you to do? Join an online dating website, of course! Matches may be made in heaven but who says heaven hasn’t gone virtual yet? With this interesting premise and the promise of an unusual romance, Tanuja Chandra’s film reels us in. But does it manage to deliver? Let’s see…

What’s it about
So, the story that Qarib Qarib Singlle narrates is that of Jaya (Parvathy) and Yogi (Irrfan Khan). First off, meet Jaya. She is a widow, who hasn’t quite moved on after the death of her husband even though it has been 10 years. She talks to him before she sleeps, looks at him for help when she’s confused and has her devices password protected by his name. The ghost of her husband keeps her away from the dating game until one day, when she tests the waters of the online dating world. Quite unassumingly she logs in and creates a profile. There she stumbles upon Yogi and agrees to meet him up, expecting a suave, polished gentleman to make an appearance. Imagine her shock then when she meets a red-sweatshirt clad, messy loudmouth like Yogi, who puns on ‘latte’ and expects her to laugh over it. You would almost place you bets on the fact that this would be the last time that Jaya would entertain Yogi, but that’s where you would be wrong. For, in a turn-of-events, Jaya finds herself packing bags and accompanying Yogi on a trip across three cities to meet his exes. Hello Bachna Ae Haseeno, with a realistic twist. It is on this trip, that they discover each other and despite their many differences, find common ground. But do they fall in love? Well, you will have to make the trip to a theatre to find that out, won’t you?

What’s good
In an Irrfan Khan film it is a given that he would be the best part and that is true of this film as well. Yogi has a rather sketchy background unlike Jaya’s, that has been well-established in the film. But Irrfan makes this accidentally-rich, hopelessly romantic poet his own. He is a man of impulse and has no qualms about his spontaneity. He hates all things virtual and makes best friends with everyone – the waiters, the drivers and even the hotel owners. He breathes life so beautifully in Yogi that you wish you knew someone like him in real life. Parvathy, in her role of an independent woman, is commendable too. For someone who is making a debut in Bollywood, she is extremely comfortable with the camera, daring to go subtle with the makeup and seeming entirely nonchalant about her appearance. But the best part about the film is the way in which it explores relationships, and the manner in which it has changed in the internet age. So when Jaya cringes over online creeps, sending her lewd messages, you almost scream, ‘Me too!’ The film also beautifully captures the fleeting nature of relationships forged online, questioning if it is okay to meet other people while seeing someone. But it is the beauty with which the film deals with intimacy that wins you over. The scene, where Yogi pushes back Jaya’s spectacles, is sensuous yet sweet. And that’s about as cosy as they ever get despite this being a mature love story and all that. Also, the delectable climax is a befitting end to the endearing tale that this film is.

What’s not
After a breezy first half, the lag in the second half doesn’t do the film any good. While it is nice to savour the little moments that make up Yogi and Jaya’s journey, at one point in time, you want them to hurry up and not languish over the details. Beautiful frames, with panoramic views of Rishikesh, Jaipur and Gangtok or close-ups of Yogi and Jaya, provide a pause that you won’t want in a rom-com. It is a relief that the lead characters don’t break into a song-and-dance routine to let us know what they feel, but a more lyrical background score would have perhaps done the genre more justice.

What to do
Whether you are almost single or completely taken, you will find yourself in splits over the exploits of Jaya and Yogi, who can’t bear each other and yet not bear to let go. Plus, you also have to find out if they indeed fall in love or fall apart, don’t you? Go for it!

Qarib Qarib Single : Endearing tale of life and relation

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Director Suresh Triveni proofs that a simple story can be told with a big heart. Tumhari Sulu is perhaps one of the most entertaining films of 2017. With its refreshing narrative, Tumhari Sulu is simply relatable and endearing. And it is truly is Vidya Balan film complimenting its tagline – #MainKarSaktiHai.

Sulochana urf Sulu (Vidya Balan), a chirpy and melodramatic housewife who is ambitious and awaits the right opportunity. Her husband Ashok Dubey (Manav Kaul) is an honest employee at a garment factory since twelve long years. The two lead a happy married life until Sulu gets an opportunity to host a late night show with tagline ‘Saree wali bhabhi’ on a radio station.

Station head Maria (Neha Dhupia) along with the show producer Pankaj (Vijay Maurya) and RJ Albeli Anjali (RJ Malishka) encourage Sulu to host the show. Her life changes upside down when her personal life goes for a toss.

Suresh Triveni subtly touches upon the issues of women equality and liberation. A journey of a middle class working woman is beautiful crafted by him. Despite of no hook point in the film, from characters to situations, everything is weaved quite well. Tumhari Sulu is an entertaining joyride with a progressive ending which is truly commendable.
Special mention to the art direction of the film, from a charger hanging from the socket to a double bed placed in the bedroom, from wet clothes drying on the ropes in the balcony to a simple wooden dining table in the corner of the drawing room, Sulu has a pure depiction of a middle class life of an ordinary working couple. Few moments in the film such as Ashok handling the house chores in absence of Sulu, Ashok listening to her sultry show and feels embarrassed more than being proud as a husband, Sulu’s nagging and orthodox family who discourages her to resign from her job are touching and real.

Vidya Balan yet again proves her mettle with finesse. She is the master of her craft. With those chiffon sarees and a big smile, she looks visually appealing and enjoyable as Sulu. Her comic timing is impeccable. Take a bow Manav Kaul who carries the role of Ashok with so much ease. His chemistry with Vidya is inarguably the best. His frustration and tension at work is so genuine. Neha Dhupia does her part very well. You will like her as a station head in those flowy dresses and English accent. Rest of the star cast is seems to be the perfect casting. Small kid who plays Pranav is good too.

Tumhari Sulu is a slice of a life film which is worth your ticket price. It is engaging and has a massive social message. Don’t miss this riveting tale of a middle class housewife cum radio jockey. You will definitely come out of the theatres with tears of joy!

Rating

Tumhari Sulu Review : Vidya Balan kar sakti hai – in true terms!

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

Tiger is back. The sequel to Ek Tha Tiger reunites us with Salman The Spy, who still makes a killer ‘kaali’ daal, schmoozes with his beloved ‘biwi’ Zoya (yes, gasp, the very one from Pakistan) and saves the world, with a little bit of help from both their friends.

Tiger Zinda Hai also goes several steps ahead in creating a channel between India and Pakistan: if their spies can bond in the face of a common enemy, why not the two estranged nations? Only Bollywood can dare go down this ‘aman-ki-asha’ path with such schmaltzy bravura, and given that Salman had successfully darted across the border in ‘Bajrangi Bhaijaan’, why not do an encore this time around?

I’d enjoyed the first one while it lasted. I had fun in this one too, once I got past the whole ‘Come Children, Here’s Make A Spy Story For You’ explanatory mode of the flick, directed this time by Ali Abbas Zafar. Literally every plot point is picked up and repeated BEFORE it happens, so everything is easy peasy, comic-book-y. I shut my ears every time this happened, and returned only when the action re-started. Which, let me tell you, there is plenty of, and almost all well-choreographed, even if familiar. And the number of vehicles going up in smoke should give Rohit Shetty a complex.

You can see the filmmakers’ compulsion in choosing to simplify and flatten matters. Because the Middle East is one of the most complex points of conflict in the world, and the attempt to base a Salman actioner on a real event (a bunch of Indian and Pakistani nurses being held hostage by terrorists in 2014) is in real danger of turning off his ardent fans by being too full of information, which needs processing. I could sense the occasional bouts of restlessness from the row of young fans behind me, which vanished as soon as Bhai came on, all guns blazing.

So, you hear key words like Mosul, Tirkit, Iraq, ISI, RAW, CIA roll past, there just to register presence, and prepare the ground for Salman and his cohorts to do their thing: rescue the nurses and bring them out safe.

The 2016 Malayalam film Take-Off was a terrific re-creation of that very same knife-edge situation, and the bravery-in-the-face-of-certain-death shown by the nurses, spearheaded by Parvathy. Tiger Zinda Hai uses it simply as a peg to get Salman centre-stage, only occasionally deigning to share the screen with Kaif (who has a terrific action sequence all to herself), and his cohorts (Mishra, Bedi and company). A menacing bearded type who goes by the name of Abu Usman (Delfroz) marches about, giving orders to shoot and kill, and the Americans, played by the most inept actors, as usual are the biggest losers.

Rating:

Tiger Zinda Hai : More Swag, Less Substance

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

So the Padmaavat’s first hand reviews are out and it turns out to be not so glitzy affair – not the way it just unleashed the storm of controversies bringing it added publicity. With the premiere of the movie held Tuesday night, the critics view on Padmaavat says that it is majestic but it is not the worth it was given!

Padmaavat’s locations are majestic, the costumes glorious, the make-up perfect and the songs lovingly choreographed (ah, yes, the special effects could clearly could do with more finesse).

His queens — Deepika Padukone as Padmavati, Aditi Rao Hydari as Mallika Mehrunissa and Anupriya Goenka as a barely there as Nagmati, Maharwal Ratan Singh’s first wife and the Maharani of Chittod — look suitably gorgeous and carry off their exquisite costumes with grace and ease (Yes, Deepika’s nubile waist has been digitally draped in the Ghoomar song to soothe offended sensibilities).

His kings underscore, and re-underscore, their stated characters to ensure there is no confusion.

Shahid Kapoor as Maharwal Ratan Singh and the hero in this saga is suitably courageous, even if he is shown to completely ignore his first wife on the arrival of the second.

Ranveer Singh as the rapacious, power-loving Allauddin Khilji is suitably bestial in his gluttonous appetite for the pleasures of the flesh as he wolfs down chunks of meat and sates his physical desires with equal enthusiasm, throwing in guttural growls to express almost every emotion — from rage to lust.

Both sport suitable scars as witnesses to their bravery in the battlefield.

There is no subtlety here; black is black and white is white and Bhansali, clearly, wants no shades of grey in his magnum opus.

The ‘good’ Hindu hero, mostly dressed in creams and whites, is heroic and honourable; the ‘evil’ Muslim villain, mostly dressed in black, is shown to be animalistic, with no control over his desires, be it political or carnal.
A romance with his male slave, Malik Kafur — Jim Sarbh, who seems confused as to whether he is acting in a film or performing in a play — otherwise hinted at, is clearly outlined when Ratan Singh’s minister disparagingly refers to him as Allaudin’s begum.

Padmavati’s perfection too needs contrast to be highlighted — her beauty blinds the equally beautiful Mehrunissa who feels her husband cannot be blamed for his obsession; Nagmani has to be shown as a petulant wife against the perfect partner that is Padmavati.

It is this play of black and white that is the foundation of the confusing fairy tale world Bhansali has created.
In this world, a princess who seems to have great faith in Buddhism is also a hunter.

In this world, a princess can get close to a man she does not know.

In this world, a missive by an enemy king as a challenge for battle can set afire by a Rajput queen even before her husband, the king, reads it.

In this same patriarchal, masculine world, Rajput soldiers readily take orders from the younger queen.

The biggest tragedy of Padmaavat is that it has nothing new to offer. We’ve seen Bhansali create similar picturesque frames before.

We’ve seen those overhead shots showcasing dance performances.

The dialogues are stilted and old-fashioned — ‘Loha lohe ko kaatha hai,’ Singh explains his decision to battle solo with Allaudin.

There are familiar references to both mythology and history.

Padmavati, who is hunting a deer, accidentally shoots Ratan Singh like Prince Dashrath did Shravan Kumar. Only, here, it results romance and not a tragic death.

She brings her husband back from the jaws of death, like Savithri did Satyavan.

Like the soldiers hidden in the Trojan horse, Padmavati sneaks in Rajput soldiers as her maids.

If Babur inspired his war-weary soldiers by renouncing wine in the battle against Rana Sangha, Allaudin inspired his siege-weary army by flinging the Khilji flag to the ground.

Bhansali even pays tribute to the famous climax of Ketan Mehta’s Mirch Masala. But that powerful, unforgettable, climax become a farce here.

And as the women move towards the giant pyre, Bhansali employs a couple of unnecessary shots that leave a bitter taste when he focuses his camera on a couple of child brides and a heavily pregnant woman. It smacks of a cheap attempt at evoking emotions.

Which is what Padmaavat misses out on.

As the film progresses, you tire of the been-there seen-that spectacle. You want a story. You want good dialogue, not the corny words you are hearing. You want an emotional connect. You want a tighter film.

Sadly, with Padmaavat, that’s not what you get.

Rating – **

Padmaavat Review : A Cheap attempt at evoking emotions!

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

“Although the treatment is understated if compared to Toilet: Ek Prem Katha, its feminist hero ethos — Ek aurat ki hifazat mein nakamiyab aadmi apne aap ko mard kaise keh sakta hai? — are almost identical.

Menstruation is seldom a part of our conversation in the movies. And PadMan scores for highlighting the shocking disregard for menstrual hygiene as well as unjustified steep pricing of means that offer protection from the same a lot more effectively than last year’s Phullu.

What PadMan is aiming for is admirable and a genuine concern, but it isn’t always above the missteps common to most films of the meaningful genre.”

Also read: Video : Nagpur folks vote for bringing ‘pad’ awareness!

Akshay Kumar is a man on a mission.

Most of his acclaimed work in recent times involves him taking up a cause that’ll enrich society or whip up nationalistic fervour.

There’s an obvious enthusiasm in him to play characters taking a morally high ground. And while it is advantageous to spearhead significant subjects, a monotony of earnestness has set in.

In the R Balki-directed PadMan, Akshay is back to playing a considerate husband fighting provincial mind-sets and social taboos. Only this time creating a disposable sanitary pad — not toilet — occupy his unwavering attention.

His Lakshmikant Chauhan is a man of exceptional sensitivity and ingenuity. Something his young bride, raised on orthodox, old school beliefs can neither understand nor appreciate.

Where most actresses wouldn’t rise above annoyingly regressive, Radhika Apte imbues her character’s embarrassment and irritation with a heartfelt understanding of a woman caught between her cravings for comforting conventionality while faced with boldness beyond her grasp.

She is like as her husband complains, ‘Rani Mukerji ke zamane mein Devika Rani ki dialogue bol rahi ho.’

The other women in his life — his elderly mother and three sisters — aren’t allowed such complexity. They are little more than scandalised, scampering, bunnies every time Lakshmi appears before them flashing a sparkling white pad in hand.

Undeterred by his family’s disapproval and social ostracism, Lakshmi endeavours to discover the mechanism behind a serviceable pad in a manner that looks unexpectedly comfortable and pleasant on screen.

Scenes where he is sitting by a pretty pond encircled by frangipani flowers and heaping cotton wads on fresh green leaves are filmed in a curiously delicious manner (by P C Sreeram), as though he’s packing tiffin of steamed idlis. Nor has receiving free samples of materials from overseas suppliers ever looked more at the snap of a finger.

Although the treatment is understated if compared to Toilet: Ek Prem Katha, its feminist hero ethos — Ek aurat ki hifazat mein nakamiyab aadmi apne aap ko mard kaise keh sakta hai? — are almost identical.

Menstruation is seldom a part of our conversation in the movies. And PadMan scores for highlighting the shocking disregard for menstrual hygiene as well as unjustified steep pricing of means that offer protection from the same a lot more effectively than last year’s Phullu.

What PadMan is aiming for is admirable and a genuine concern, but it isn’t always above the missteps common to most films of the meaningful genre.

In the beginning, it adopts a largely logical approach at the rampant problem. Save for the ‘Test match’ slur, not much is dwelled upon the absurd superstitions associated with menstruation, an outlook that is prevalent among the educated and privileged lot as well.

Instead, PadMan’s energy is directed in documenting Lakshmi’s journey and experiments into a fairy-tale triumph replete with Balki regular Amitabh Bachchan’s blessing and all.

To Balki’s credit he presents these technical pursuits with enough excitement to sustain interest.

There’s a recurring parallel in the visuals of Hindu Gods like Hanuman and Krishna as coconut and Prasad vending machines of religious expectations next to Lakshmi’s socially frowned engineering, which subtly conveys the challenges of introducing practical methods in a deeply convoluted network of obsolete beliefs.

It is inspired by the true story of Coimbatore’s Arunachalam Muruganantham and his award-winning invention, one that not only offered functional, economical sanitary napkins but also empowered women as means to earn an independent livelihood featured as a fictionalised short story in co-producer Twinkle Khanna’s The Legend of Lakshmi Prasad.

PadMan dramatises his reality to accomodate romance and distinction with a calculation that is one of the weakest aspects of an otherwise constructive narrative.

Serving as catalyst to this purpose, Sonam Kapoor contributes with her sartorial elegance and appears at home in her character’s urban, rational and humanitarian sensibilities. But Balki’s need to complicate her platonic equation with Akshay leaves the viewer both confused and distracted.

The big speech at UN to follow, a cheap imitation of Sridevi’s, from the director’s better half Gauri Shinde’s English Vinglish, rechrishtened Linglish here, single-handedly demolishes everything Akshay’s carefully calibrated performance has worked for.

It’s one thing to come out great and entirely another to claim it. ‘Mad only become famous,’ he stresses in a monologue reeking of ‘Look, how socially conscious I am.’ The affectation is conspicuous and disappointing especially when even the blood stains in his pants seemed more sincere.

For all its worth, PadMan has its premise in place. Now if only it had some wings.

Also read: Video : Nagpur folks vote for bringing ‘pad’ awareness!

PadMan review: If only it had wings

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

Helmed by Vishal Pandya, who has also made the second and third films of the franchise, Hate story stars Urvashi Rautela, Karan Wahi, Vivan Bhathena and Ihana Dhillon in pivotal roles. As the film hit the screens today, we bring to you some of critics’ reviews of the film.

Indianexpress: Part of the squelchy pleasure of watching a film like Hate Story IV, the fourth part of a series toplining lots of semi-naked bodies, lots of leading-up-to-steamy-sex scenes (it may be an adult film, but we don’t show the sex, we go all the way up to it, and then dive under the covers; we’re squeamish like that), and lots of hilarious dialogue, is to divine just exactly how much squelch there is.

Hindustan Times: Hate Story 4 is nothing more than a failed attempt to titillate the audience.

Koimoi.com: If you’ve been through all the Hate Stories, you can survive this too. Don’t go for it expecting anything other than some good skin show and few twists and turns.

Firstpost: Hate Story is the only successful erotic revenge thriller genre franchise and that is evident from the box office collection report of the previous instalments. But this time around the theme of Hate Story IV can be perfectly summed up as ‘Reality is stranger than fiction’.

Wogma.com: The story – beyond the lead lady turning into a prostitute – might still have worked, I can imaginably have given that much to the writers. But, the film that it has turned into is certainly well worth hating. From acting to music to pretty much everything else, Hate Story pushes your patience to the brink.

Deccan Chronicle: Hate Story IV is one of those films, which leaves you wondering what it was. Hate Story IV has so many twists that after a while you start recollecting Abbas Mustan’s hit multi-starer thriller Race. Writer Sameer Arora’s story is complex for no reason and the way it is narrated is laughable too. Once the film is on the verge of unfolding the truth, you are bound to feel that Hate Story IV is a modified version of its own previous franchises. Watch Hate Story IV only if you are an ardent follower of the franchise, else it’s not a good pick this weekend.

Allindiaround.com: Just like it’s previous parts this movie is also a revenge drama, And of course, the revenge is served hot which makes the series special, This movie is all about exploiting Urvashi’s beauty in every possible way. Romantic scenes between Urvashi-Karan and Urvashi-Vivan will make you go awe. There is nothing much new to talk about the story, And seriously who cares about the story in Hate Story series. There are few scenes which make you feel bored at times but later the movie covers it up. Watch this space for further updates.

Hate Story IV Is Nothing But A Skin Show With Few Twists And Turns – Read Reviews

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When Ajay Devgn promises to wring out ‘poora’ Rs 420 crore from a sordid politician, there will be fireworks. But to my surprise, Devgn doesn’t clobber a single soul in Raid — not when his wife is hurt, not when his job is in jeopardy, not when a mad mob is thirsty for his blood.

There is plenty of Singham-like bait thrown at him, but Devgn simply refuses to take it.

On one particularly challenging occasion, he bolts the door and blocks it using bulky trunks and cartons choosing common sense over confrontation.

As someone who has grown tired of the actor’s relentless wham-bam, it is refreshing to see his toughness stem out of his beliefs and not brawn.

His portrayal of Income Tax Commissioner Amay Patnaik in Rajkumar Gupta’s fourth film as director (Aamir, No One Killed Jessica, Ghanchakkar) relies on his firm footing as a man of consequence to pitch itself as a tribute to the IT department’s unsung heroes.

On first glance, the character is deceptively similar to the khaki-clad, transfer-prone hotshots he has essayed before, what with the moustache, the deadpan eyes, the serious demeanour, the right-wingness.

Except in the absence of cynicism, virtue sheds a new light.

This Ajay Devgn doesn’t thwack a lackey’s head when he is forbidden from entering an elite club without formal shoes. This Ajay Devgn gets featured on Dharmyug magazine’s cover, draws analogies from Munshi Premchand and contends ‘Main wohi peeta hoon jo khareed sakoon (I drink only what I can afford).’

Based on a script by Ritesh Shah, Raid is buoyed by a classic right versus wrong theme.

Although it is set in 1981’s Lucknow, the schadenfreude of every honest taxpayer in watching tax defaulters, evaders and hoarders go down is timeless and universal.

Gupta mines it frantically to stage an elaborate game of hide-and-seek across the meticulously conducted raid, which constitutes bulk of its 128-minutes running time.

The antagonist, a sooty-eyed, contemptuous MP called Tauji played with contained peevishness by Saurabh Shukla, is a character that never gets to step outside its bubble of conceit.

As the raid spans various stages of disbelief, resistance, pride, deceit, revelation, distress, in fighting, violence, more than Tauji it is his extended family that inject novelty into an unsurprising faceoff and monotonous mission.

Raids are messy and lead to eye-popping disclosures, but the thrill of seeing heaps and heaps of money and gold wears off after a while, more like watching Aladdin’s lamp breakthrough in a loop.

Gupta goes overboard confiscating the unaccounted wealth, but the disarming spontaneity of the ‘Amma’ (a noteworthy Pushpa Joshi) character, as Shukla’s wacky, unthinkingly yapping octogenarian mother is a neat touch.

As is the presence of a mysterious mole causing believable scenes of internal conflict within the household — Raid takes a clear moral stand yet views its greedy offenders as hopeless and human.

Part of its tongue-in-cheek approach nudges at then-in-power prime minister Indira Gandhi. She seems more of a school principal really, continuously fidgeting her pen and mindlessly ticking off pages of a file.

Raid refuses to engage beyond her side profile. Amidst the hilarity of this imagery, Gupta is blunt enough to suggest her tolerance for corruption in lure of political clout but spares her conscience to do the right thing.

Despite its glowing sense of purpose and imaginative manipulations, Raid is staggeringly inconsistent.

Other than the tired tropes of a corrupt colleague redeeming himself, hooligans attacking the wife to intimidate the hero and a phony period setting whose detailing is limited to trunk call woes and retro time pieces, it is the sloppy editing, tame camerawork and ghastly background score that hurt Raid the most.

Ileana D’Cruz as Devgn’s wife bears the brunt of these inadequacies. Her supportive, sari-clad significant other is clumsily forced into the narrative to underscore Devgn’s blissful personal life.

In one scene, she shows up with a lunch dabba in the middle of an official operation. That is relatively less absurd than what ensues when Raid digresses for a romantic song interlude.

Did someone doze off on the editing table?

The background music sounds as though it took its cues from Inception and ruins many a scenes with its misplaced ardour confusing persistence for panic.

The informer subplot is curiously introduced, but offers little by the way of payoff.

Gupta’s love for realism also takes an inexplicable beating when Devgn permits Shukla to scoot off just to jam in some out-dated sher/kutta sledging.

As disappointing that is, Raid does have its moments of compelling optimism and unexpected wit.

It’s also the most I’ve enjoyed watching Ajay Devgn in a while.

Devgn doesn’t clobber a single soul in Raid

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

A novel plot idea is buried under an avalanche of narrative cliches in Hichki. In her comeback film, Rani Mukerji gives the role of a Tourette Syndrome-afflicted teacher all she has. Full marks there! However, Hichki, directed by Siddharth P Malhotra, isn’t the kind of class act that does justice to the film’s larger purpose of underscoring the need for inclusion.

It is marred by more hiccups than its wafer-thin storyline can handle. The screenplay suffers from a syndrome that Bollywood fans are familiar with – it is a condition characterized by an obsession with amplified sentimentality and the tendency to offer superficial commentary.

In the opening moments, the protagonist is interviewed by the trustees of a school. At the outset, none of them has any clue what Tourette’s is. They are wiser by the time the spirited heroine is done with them. But one of them still suggests to her that she should cannot be a teacher. Look for another calling, he suggests. Her parting riposte is defiant: if I have taught you about Tourette’s in no time, I am sure I can handle students in a classroom, too.

Hichki isn’t only about an individual’s struggle to wrest and secure her rightful place in the world. Its spotlight is also on a lopsided and complacent education system that allows no leeway to those born on the wrong side of the tracks – in this case, on the wrong side of a highway and a gutter that runs alongside it. The bitter battle for acceptance waged by the pivotal character and her underprivileged students plays out on two different planes, the lines crossing each other at times, but the drama never assumes truly rousing proportions.

The neurological condition that hampers the protagonist’s career prospects certainly makes Hichki a unique film in the context of Indian cinema. The novelty factor does not, however, transcend the unusual nature of the personal battles that Naina Mathur must fight. In the early portions of the film, the audience is told that she has been rejected by 18 schools simply on account of her speech and nervous system defect. But she refuses to give up on her dream.

When the strong-willed lady does eventually land a job in a missionary school named after a stuttering Catholic saint who, many centuries ago, rose above his speech impairment thanks to the power of his intellect, her disorder is reduced to a mere plot detail and the focus of the film shifts to the fraught teacher-student dynamics defined by the class divide that separates 14 slum-dwelling students and the rest of this school for affluent children.

Naina Mathur’s wards – they are seen as absolute no-hopers and dumped in 9F, a division carved out for slum children in an upscale school to fulfil the requirements of the Right to Education Act – have something in common with her – a debilitating disadvantage. Hers is strictly physical, theirs is socio-economic and, by extension, psychological. She instinctively understands them; they take quite a while to grasp the importance of her mission.

The misfits under Naina’s charge are treated like “municipality garbage” by the school authorities, represented by a snooty senior teacher and head of the student council (Neeraj Kabi), whose sole purpose in life seems to be show up the 9F students – five girls and nine boys. Their new teacher knows precisely what is going on, having faced prejudice all her life. She decides that the children deserve a fair shot at a better life. The principal gives her four months – that is the time that is left to go for the final examinations – to prove that these students belong here.

Despite facing numerous hurdles, including the students’ open hostility towards her, which takes the form of outright bullying and pranks, Naina, using unconventional teaching methods, proceeds to show them that there is percentage in unleashing their inner potential and harnessing their angst correctly.

Like the rest of the film – Hichki is adapted from the Brad Cohen autobiography How Tourette Syndrome Made Me the Teacher I Never Had, which yielded the American TV film Front of the Class – the denouement is over-dramatic and driven by the hackneyed devices of the underdog-triumphing-against-all-odds genre.

Yes, the story might have elements that appear fresh, but the treatment is overly stale. In the past decade alone, Hollywood has delivered at least four fiction films about people with Tourette’s. Besides Front of the Class (2008), there has been Phoebe in Wonderland (2008), The Road Within (2014) and Hello, My Name is Frank (2015).

To Hichki goes the credit of being the first Bollywood drama to highlight TS. But in the end, in terms of its drama, it is only a pale variation on the critically acclaimed 2002 Marathi film Dahavi Fa (Class 10F), directed by Sumitra Bhave and Sunil Sukthankar. Dahavi Fa had Atul Kulkarni playing a teacher who decides to do something drastic when he sees a bunch of under-performing students being constantly discriminated against and pushed to the edge of violence-inducing despair.

The only aspect of the Rani Mukerji character that distinguishes her from the Dahavi Fa teacher is the syndrome that traps her in a set of vocal and motor tics. The remainder of the film is a replay of sorts – she takes on the school on behalf of her students and channelize their energies in a productive direction.

As the children rap, rock and rumble angrily and often self-destructively, the film rambles. Naina encourages the boys and girls in her class to spread their wings and fly. Fly they do, notably the character played by Harsh Mayar, Aatish, a rebel without a cause who stops at nothing to fight fire with fire.

The tale at the heart of Hichki is definitely inspirational. If only it had been a tad more inspired, it might have hit home with far greater force. While you readily sympathize with the plight of the teacher and her unfairly branded and segregated students, the drama of their lives never manages to heave itself out of its dullness.

Rani Mukerji’s energetic, engaging performance apart, Hichki is a huff-and-puff show marked by too much mush and fuss. But it has just enough to keep tearjerker junkies interested.

Rating – 

Hichki Review : Too many hiccups spoil the narrative

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

Baaghi 2
Cast: Tiger Shroff, Disha Patani
Director: Ahmed Khan

The Baaghi franchise — there’s already a third one in the works — is all about ex-boyfriends coming to their girl’s rescue until it culminates in a tooth-and-nail final battle.

Baaghi 2, choreographer turned director Ahmed Khan’s junky remake of the Telugu hit Kshanam is no different.

Tiger Shroff is a revelation waiting to happen. Only four years and still waiting.

Still, if a guy can deliver this much dexterity on autopilot, imagine what he can accomplish under an actual director and competent script?

There’s an old-school solidity in his hyper-muscular, shirt-tearing, teeth-gnashing, jumping-to-pound fervour.

It’s unmistakable in his fabulous, fleeting, tribute to Sunny Deol in Ghayal. Tiger’s charisma burns the screen and tramples scepticism in favour of a good time. Frustrating how it never goes beyond the promise of potential.

By the way, just how many Rambos is Tiger Shroff working on? There is already an official remake in the pipeline.

But the star seems so eager to recreate Sylverster Stallone’s machine gun-blasting imagery, a good deal of it features in Baaghi 2’s bang and boom climax already.

Throw in a eyes-above-muddy river moment from Apocalypse Now and King Kong-style music cue and destruction, what have you got?

Tiger ShowOff!

Disha Patni is so remarkably insipid, I can’t decide what I am feeling is awe or exasperation.

A bowl of gruel could have given a better sense of suffering than what Disha does in this movie.

Considering the trauma her character is undergoing, her don’t-like-my-photo-on-Aadhaar-card degree of intensity hardly cuts it.

The sheer frequency of flashbacks in Baaghi is mind-boggling.

The hero gets his standard we-first-met-in-college romantic flashback. (Although why he is fooling around like a student from KJo school of thought and not already enlisted in NDA beats me.)

Again the hero, by the virtue of being hero, gets multiple flashbacks.

Later, the villain gets a flashback; the villain’s consort gets a flashback. All I want are my 144 minutes back.

Forget how vain Tiger’s commando is, I can’t stop marvelling at how much of a person’s wardrobe a rucksack can take.

Army guy Tiger flies straight from Kashmir to Goa carrying this lightweight luggage, but the number of clothes he changes into in a matter of days is truly stupefying.

Note to self: Buy one of those rucksack thingies whenever there’s a sale next.

Whether it’s Jackie Shroff using his sister’s dupatta to accessorise his look in Tridev, Kajol throwing hers at Rani Mukerji like a blessing in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai or Tiger tying Disha’s around his bicep as a keepsake of her memory, the symbolic dupatta in Bollywood movies is always a bandhini pattern.

How about some ikat or phulkari next time?

Continuity continues to be a sore spot for fictional injuries and bruises.

There’s a different shade of red on Disha’s face and forehead, its location too varies as per make-up man’s mood.

One cop is punched in the face, a couple of teeth fly off, but return just in time for the next scene.

Above all, there’s the invincible leading man and and his ‘Jo tera torture hai, woh mera warm-up hai’ gusto.

His bare body is pummelled like some bug-infested mattress. Yet not one scratch appears on that ridiculously sculpted torso.

Manoj Bajpayee and Randeep Hooda are smart actors. Not because they’ve done some great work in Baaghi 2. But because they realise how little this baloney requires.

Hooda’s hippy, high cop bears an uncanny resemblance to director and actor Amole Gupte. He doesn’t look like he cares if you notice.

And Manoj Bajpayee can barely conceal his smugness over being remunerated for polishing off biscuits and saying lines like ‘Get the machines.’

An unremarkable Jacqueline Fernandez dancing to the revolting Ek Do Teen remix is the very definition of poor taste and shabby tribute. Too bad there’s no option for fast-forward.

One could show up only for the final 20 minutes of the Baaghi movies and still not miss anything.

Unless the perfunctory nonsense that precedes it under the pretext of incentive holds any interest to you.

There’s zero emotion and logic in anything about Baaghi 2.

Right from ‘Why on earth is Disha’s father so opposed to her match with Tiger’s to ‘this has got to be the stupidest reason for kidnapping ever,’ Baaghi 2’s laughable twists and slyness are sloppy and forced. Just like that completely needless early sequence inspired by the true incident of an army officer tying a Kashmiri local on jeep.

The best thing I can say about Baaghi 2 is it does have its moments of ‘so bad it’s good’ gratification in Prateik Babbar’s hammy dope head, the babyish wailing of a constable assisting Hooda and Tiger’s bizarre boss, the guy could put caricatures to shame with his ‘The war is over’ solemnity.

Rating:

Movie Review : Baaghi 2

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

October Movie

Star Cast: Varun Dhawan, Banita Sandhu, Gitanjali Rao, Sahil Vedoliyaa.

Director: Shoojit Sircar

We live in the times of apathy and desolation.

We rage and recover.

We mourn and move on.

It is the age of instant gratification and short-lived woe.

Shoojit Sircar’s October speaks to a thick-skinned audience with life-affirming simplicity.

Very few films allow themselves to become the subject and the spectator. Even fewer accomplish this rare binary. But October is something of a wonder.

Its lived-in melancholy and gradually attained wisdom is akin to discovering the fragrance-notes of a soft perfume.

Rejecting the mainstream framework of expository storytelling and calculated pace, it attains a profundity that feels earned and uplifting.

In this slice-of-hard-to-explain-attachment, Sircar’s frequent ally and writer Juhi Chaturvedi delves in the dilemmas and dangers of devoting oneself unconditionally to an uncertain future and man’s infinite capacity for hope.

The sadness of its theme, involving a hotel management trainee’s (Varun Dhawan) extraordinary concern for his comatose colleague (Banita Sandhu), is offset in Chaturvedi’s fine eye for everyday details.

Her matter-of-fact style imbues the gloom with a humanity and natural wit that is recognisable and relatable.

Acknowledging the key to their prolific collaboration, Sircar strokes October in familiar sights, smells and sounds.

Every second of his vision in a pulsating Delhi setting is like revisiting a known scenario with a refreshing insight.

Bustling glimpses of the hospitality industry look beyond hectic action in the kitchen to catch a knee-high guest engage in unusual mischief.

A pressure cooker of khichdi and a bottle of aachar is witness to a clumsy post-ICU visit discussion between a pair of roommates.

The all too believable sparring over hospital visitor’s passes, the unspoken bond of smiles and small talk created in the anticipation of a loved one’s recovery.

A mother’s incessant role between tending to her ailing 21 year old but not forgetting about her younger two, their meals and uninterrupted study.

What lends its emotional landscape distinction is Dan’s (Dhawan) unexplained empathy for Shiuli (Sandhu).

There is a deliberate mystery around their attachment. But the extent of transformation her freak accident brings about within Dan’s moody, slacker disposition is telling of their bond even at its most inert and unspoken.

No less heartening is the mild-mannered appreciation of her family comforted by his reliable presence.

It is what makes his mother’s disappointment at his absence all the more crushing.

October plays on these dichotomies exquisitely without getting dark or judgmental.

Even its most sceptical characters are products of practicality.

The film’s romanticised ideals are evoked in Shantanu Moitra’s violin-rich theme and Avik Mukhopadhyay’s photography. The latter, especially, reads the poetry of Sircar’s narrative in ethereal frames capturing Delhi’s dust and cold, glamour and grandeur, pretty flora and posh neighbourhoods.

Varun Dhawan is its most famous face, but every single cast member is perfect in his or her part.

While a soulful Banita Sandhu turns her limitation into her strength, Gitanjali Rao demonstrates maternal will beneath the furrowed face and distraught hair.

Their names appear before Varun’s in the opening credits, but the actor is doing most of the scene stealing.

His sincerity is the first thing you notice about his performance.

But what is truly impressive is how entirely it is stripped of its gallery-playing glamour.

For a top box office draw, it is like being Thor without his hammer, but the young actor has his finger on Dan’s purity and preoccupation.

October is the month when the sweet-smelling flower, known as parijat, shiuli, harsingar, night jasmine or prajakta, enters bloom.

But the lesson of love and loss in Shoojit Sircar’s poignant new drama is likely to linger all year long.

Rating:

October Movie Review

Nagpur Today : Nagpur News

Nanu Ki Jaanu is an experimental film that ends up becoming way too adventurous. It is good when a filmmaker tries to tell a new story. Yes, it’s the remake of a film down South but still for an all-India audience this is a new adventure for sure. However, in the process of making it a roller coaster ride, filmmaker Faraz Haider picks up way too many chapters which become cumbersome to be tied together eventually.

As a kind hearted goon, Abhay Deol is in good form at least during the first half of the film. As he along with his partner-in-crime Manu Rishi Chadha go around Delhi flat owners and intimidate them to let go off their properties at a low price, you do get familiar with his modus operandi. The accident involving Patralekha brings a twist in the tale and while that is dramatic to the core, the comic portions which follow do bring in several uproarious moments.

This is where the film actually peaks since the dilemma faced by Abhay is well treated and the scenes involving Manu Rishi are a complete riot. The after effect of the duo witnessing ‘bhoot’ in the house actually gets the house down and you look forward to an entertaining second half.

However the film turns out to be something else in this part. From being a comedy, the film turns into a whodunit as the focus moves towards what caused Patralekha’s accident. There is so much focus on this side of the story that you end up wondering why an accident is being seen as a killing. This isn’t all as several characters come into the fray, be it Rajesh Sharma, Manoj Pahwa, Himani Shivpuri, Brijendra Kala, a little girl, an abusive wife beater, an opportunist neighbor, and so on.

This isn’t all as several scenes in the middle of the second half just don’t fit in, especially the one around ‘maata ka jaagran’ which is forced. More adventures seem misplaced, especially when a bizarre love story begins to develop between Abhay and Patralekha. You are further amazed when a love song arrives as well in the middle of some truly serious moments. The cake is taken by the climax but then by this time around you have adjusted to the fact that the director has a certain vision in mind around the film, which didn’t necessarily resonate with what majority of audiences could possibly comprehend. What audiences do take home though is the camaraderie between Abhay and Manu Rishi, and also the sequences leading to the interval point that do manage to bring in laughs.

Nanu Ki Jaanu Movie Review