Mom: Emotional, powerful, solid and credible

Rating: 4.25 of 5

Recommendation: Worth a watch

‘Mom’ excels and shines standing on the shoulders of some seasoned actors, their powerful performances, well-composed dialogues and on the outstanding editing and camera-work. It is indeed the first outstanding Bollywood movie after the advent of the times of GST.

A teacher’s (Sridevi) largely peaceful life with her kids and husband, takes a turn-around when her step-daughter – who addressed her ‘Ma’am’ (she is her teacher at school) instead of ‘Mom’ – in her mid-teens, is gang-raped. Justice is denied but now there is no chance of reconciliation in the strained relationship. The girl believes that one of the perpetrators had a prior provocation from the teacher that led to the gang-rape.

The times of protracted court-room arguments or scuffle have gone. Mom has a different take on the same events that have flashed our theater screen from times immemorial. Now the judges are shown expressing sympathy with victim but still, abiding by the evidence presented, set the perpetrators free.

There is no cry of ‘Taareek-pe-Taareek’ anymore. It’s a fast-track court and the verdict is out much sooner than one would expect. Within no time, the movie moves to its main thread, that of extracting a revenge from the culprits.

The ‘justice-denied’ lot, with a deservingly sympathy factor working in favor of them, have taken the mantle in their hands. Even cops don’t appear to be corrupt anymore. In fact, they are devastated and helpless about their inability to turn the court’s verdict in favor of the victim.

The treatment of the age-old subject is new. How much is your appetite to chew would depend on what all you can comprehend. At certain places the story becomes abrupt and unbelievable. Possibly, you didn’t connect the dots. May be, they were too subtle.

Prod a little, there is an implicit reason and explanation for each act. For the non-believers of Sridevi’s acumen, you must remember that a home-maker cum biology teacher – she has also helped the poor find a meaningful life – has meticulously plotted each scene of her drama. For execution, she has dependable people around her.

There are loopholes, for sure. How does a hardcore criminal, after committing a crime in rage, has the mind and the patience to remove all evidence from a crime-scene?

Rahman’s music and songs are loud. Songs screaming high on pain and suffering – already abundantly present in the story-line – than harmony or rhythm tends to become clamorous. Background score manages to do some balancing act.

Contrastingly, Mom’s beauty is the aura it radiates that effectively debars you from paying undue attention to these fallacies.

It’s selling point is in its plot and performances.

As the credits roll, Nawazuddin Siddiqui is declared to be in a ‘Special Appearance’. Most of his scenes are crisp conversations with Sridevi, and trust me, there is only one person in that scene: Nawazuddin Siddiqui. Sridevi is absolutely upstaged by his unique make-up and peculiar dialogue delivery. The more he goes off the screen, the more you wait to see him. For all Nawazuddin’s fans, this is not-to-be-missed movie!

Sajal Ali (as Arya, the victim) portrays a wide-range of emotions to perfection. She is brutally rude to her mother and stands out as the despicable one thus, subtly shifting all sympathies towards Sridevi. When it comes to the boys in her class, she quickly switches over to the role of an infatuated young lass. Her post-trauma syndrome symptoms are conspicuous and remain well within the boundaries of credibility.

Sridevi (as Devki/Mom) is forever awaiting acceptance as ‘Mom’ from her stepdaughter. Let alone acknowledgement, none of her compassionate gestures are even received by the young-teenager (also her reluctant student at school). She looks hesitant, stretched, exhausted yet hopeful. She commands your attention on herself and develops a natural sympathetic connection with you. She excels in her non-verbal agony but her sobbing and explicit expressions of pain appear exaggerated.

Adnan Siddiqui (as Anand), a well-meaning family man, is pained to see his second-wife and his daughter not get along with each other. He superbly fits-in to the pained family. He excels in depicting his composure and at the same time being angry with whatever transpires.

Akshaye Khanna’s role (as cop) is a comic one. I am not even sure if I should spend time writing about him. All through the movie you are hoping that he contributes something meaningful to the story line. Starting out with a subtle introduction of an ace-cop with a heart, eventually, and quite hilariously, Khanna’s role is an extension of ‘China Town’ (one of his earlier flicks): He is always there but hardly bothers, soothes, affects or impacts anyone.

Abhimanyu Singh and the other three perpetrators invoke loathsome feelings in you. There is little scope for them to falter and they don’t disappoint.

A gripping plot, fast-moving story-line, excellently edited scenes and outstanding performances make the movie worth a watch. Mom promises handsome returns on your money and the GST!

I go for a 4.25 out of 5.

Review: Kahaani 2: Durga Rani Singh: No subplots (Kahaani); Balan flops as Arjun Rampal excels in this damp squib

Kahaani, the first one, offered a gripping plot that boasted of a tight coupling between fiction and reality.

With that high a benchmark established, the sequel Kahaani 2: Durga Rani Singh, falls flat.

Interestingly, there is no ‘Kahaani’ – storytelling in sub-plots – in Kahaani 2.

It is plain, unfolds gradually, predictably and mostly chronologically. It’s a loose drama built on a few thrilling sequences and a mild-suspense element. This time around, suburban backdrops of West Bengal or usage of Bengali language fail to add any seasonings either.

Vidya Sinha (Vidya Balan) and her crippled daughter, in her early teens, live in a peaceful suburb away from Kolkata. All is going well for the mother-daughter duo until one day, the girl goes missing. Heading out in panic, the lady is run-over by a car and ends up in a hospital in state of coma.

Cops start-off with their investigation by digging into Vidya’s past. From here, the story unfolds with the usual twists and turns.

The first half draws inspiration from the backdrop it is set in: slow life in the hills of northern West Bengal – mostly deprived of sunlight – matching well with a rather sleepy story-line. Excessive time is lost in showcasing the nurturing of the relationship between Balan and the kid.

This is aptly compensated in the second half where events alternate in quick succession but simultaneously, the suspense element diminishes equally rapidly and not much remains to-be-revealed by the time the movie braces up for its climax-scene.

However, the power of Kahaani 2 lies in its sinister, urgency-inducing background score. (Eventually, nothing disastrous transpires, is a different point altogether). Clinton Cerejo, yet again, provides lifeline to a movie that was otherwise gasping for breath. (The earlier similar one was Te3n).

Whereas for Kahaani 2, the background music excels, it’s plot is an utter disappointment. It is cliched at the onset and the excruciating grumblings by the victim against the apathy of law-enforcement agencies further robs it of any declining hopes of innovation or creative variations.

It would be grave injustice to first Kahaani if you compare it with Kahaani 2. Characters appear to force-fitted here, and honestly speaking, it would have been just fine without a few of them. Often, the movie loses its grip over its characters, and amusingly, their intentions appear overly-shallow. The lady-cop, who keeps pestering Balan, is practically performing the role of a contract-killer. Why to depict her as a cop, at the first place?

Performance-wise, Vidya Balan looks sapped of energy and doesn’t look to be ‘athletic enough’ while brisk-walking or ‘suitably skilled’ at firing gun-shots with precision. A mother who has smelled a potential fatality of her daughter, is overacted by her. Her apprehensions and fears are anything but convincing.

Arjun Rampal, as Sub-Inspector Inderjeet, stands out for his neat performance. He is fatigued, stressed-out, conflicted and doesn’t disclose the professional dilemmas or personal secrets of his life, to his wife. He acts strange many a times and keeps you guessing genuinely about the reason behind it.

Naisha Khanna, playing the younger Mini, is endearingly cute. She keeps your eyes glued on herself in each scene she is present. Her face is reflective of the pain she silently conceals.

If there isn’t much to do this weekend, go for Kahaani 2. It holds you – certainly not on the edge of your seat – till it lasts.

I would go on for 3/5 for its ominous background score, fine performances by Rampal and Naisha Khanna, and last but the least, it’s moderate duration.

Review: Pink is must-watch for both Pinks and Blues

Rating: 3.5/5.

Two aspects of Pink stand out: One, its delicate handling of a sensitive topic: inherent gender-biases that women brave out daily, regularly, almost everywhere. Second, it lacks a connect with the characters that prevent it from being an engaging, engrossing courtroom-drama.

So, the first one tells me to give it a rating of 5/5 but then the flaws, missing details, slow patches, weak performances, tumble it down from the perch and land it around 3.5/5.

The superbly brilliant aspect of Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury directed Pink is its editing.

The movie treads on the path it opens on: A late-night party outing boomerangs for three girls and guys when a guy forces himself on a girl. She resists and in a ‘fit of rage’ moment smashes a glass on his forehead. Male-egos bruised and, in retaliation, using their influential background, they harass the ladies making their daily lives difficult. The girl is arrested on ‘Attempt to Murder’ charges and a courtroom argument, counter-argument drama rolls on.

Pink doesn’t have a sub-plot. It never digresses. Even when it does once – Amitabh Bachchan goes into a didactic monologue in the court-room – he admits on his own, “That was a deviation.”

This, precisely yet paradoxically, is Pink’s strong and weak point. It’s purely about the bias and the irrational discrimination ladies undergo when they ‘indulge’ in ‘activities’ that are labelled as ‘casual’ for guys.

The collateral damage of this is you don’t ‘connect’ to the characters and end-up feeling for ‘their situation’ rather than ‘their trauma’. Their suffering keeps a lump in your throat, almost without a break. However, eventually, when you walk out of the theater, you remember the topic but not the three ladies.

Humor, almost absent in Pink, is subtle. It doesn’t help in reliving the agony (in the minds of the viewer) that the plot keeps generating.

Consequently, there are things that Pink chooses not to detail: From where does Meenal (Taapsee Pannu) draw her strength, what is the role of the families of the victims, what went into the making of Bachchan’s character or what makes him interested in ladies’ case? These are just a few of many unanswered questions in Pink.

The details are obscure, too. The characters in the background exhibit inconsistency. The third guy who initially appears considerate towards Meenal bears hostile expressions on his face in the courtroom. The time in the judge’s watch is 645 pm. The assistant of the defense lawyer pretending to be taking down notes is actually scribbling zigzag lines on the paper.

However, the plot remains the backbone of Pink. First half is quick and thrilling; it leads you to the courtroom in the second half.

This is where a few characters draw your attention in an adorable way: The lady cop, when her bluff is called, fascinatingly manages to hold her ground; the prime culprit, Rajveer Singh (Angad Bedi), generates a loathsome feeling in you; the stressed-out judge (Dhritiman Chatterjee) has a voice vibrating with over-alertness; all ensure a powerful and gripping courtroom drama. Of course, there are the tumultuous and shocking questions of BigB for the lady.

However, at the center of all this, is a weak link – the monotonous defense lawyer (Piyush Mishra). He appears to be dwarfed in front of BigB and fails to dominate him. The two don’t engage in a verbal duel or a tug-of-war. To steal ground from BigB, he is expected to be sinister, manipulative and tenacious. He is none of the above.

Amitabh Bachchan with powerful performance as an ace-lawyer, Deepak Sehgal, has upped the bar – for his own self as others, half his age, are not even close – even further. He is an unusual and a rather eclectic mix of an angry, frustrated, grieving yet compassionate lawyer who is battling a mental disease, too. BigB plays Sehgal to perfection.

Often, Pink indulges in loud sobbing of the victims. This, overdone a number of times, is interestingly countered by a balancing act by Bachchan: Silence. He speaks only in the court. Elsewhere the tensed-up wrinkles of his face does the talking.

The main protagonist of the movie, Minal Arora (played by Taapsee Pannu) is a victim of a horrific mishap. The details give you goose-bumps. Pink elegantly sways away your feelings from Minal, and instead, engrosses you with the topic of bias against women. Taapsee does an average job in tenderly reaching out to you, attempting to register Minal’s anguish in your mind.

The other roommates of Minal: Falak and Andrea (Kirti Kulhari and Andrea Tariang, respectively), look genuinely concerned and aggrieved for their roommate’s fate. The three are vividly fragile when they cry together after Falak makes a false admission in the court.

As the credits roll, you are likely to get interested in the reel on the left-margin. I would say, hang on further and watch-out for the poem that BigB recites. The sheer powerful elocution would be an extra-return on your spending.

Pink is likely to hit a chord with everyone, especially the ladies. It is thought-provoking cinema but you are unlikely to remember it’s characters, as time passes by.

It’s a movie you must watch, entirely for two reasons (of course, apart for the topic it touches on): For the spirited way in which the ladies battle-out the deeply-entrenched gender-bias in the society, and yes, BigB, undoubtedly. He, when on screen, makes everyone else, be it young or old, jostle out for even an inch in the frame.

Madaari Review: Unimpressive, disjointed jugglery

Rating: 2.5/5

Madaari suffers from ‘A Wednesday’ hangover. First it steals the key-ideas of its script and then royally butchers each one of them.

It’s weak direction turns what could have been a rather strong plot movie into a stretched, overly-simple plot flick.

Nishikanth Kamat directed Madaari is about a common-man (Irrfan) who kidnaps the son of a Home Minister but, instead of asking money for a ransom, demands accountability for his son’s unnatural death.

Promising storyline, an outstanding start, a grieving on-the-run kidnapper, a fast-minded intelligent Police Officer (Jimmy Shergill) and an impertinent yet endearing brat (Vishesh Bansal) – all these at the onset, assure you of a clinching, nail-biting cat-and-mouse chase.

Madaari gets straight into business, and with the kidnapper at large, it is to be decided on who would lead the investigation?

A room hosts minister-level restless politicians, grand-looking bureaucrats, high-ranked intelligence officials, cops and decorated army men. This is where Nachiket (Shergill) is chosen to head the whole investigation. He is a cop with sharp memory and specializes in solving kidnapping cases.

Shergill’s dialogues are innovative and wittily reveal the nuances of interactions of investigation agencies, politicians and how they perceive the common man. However, as it appears, the dialogue-writer (Ritesh Shah) was only half-paid. Not much later, Shergill starts to unabashedly repeat the dialogues he said earlier. Delivered on at least handful occasions, “kidnapper panic ho jaayega aur bachche ko maar dega”, just exemplifies that.

Sadly for Madaari, it soon plunges into a spiral of predictability and fails to pick up thereafter.

Soon, Shergill’s investigation turns into a no-brainer spree. Early on, a politician, frustrated with his competency, remarks: He is not finding any leads, it’s the kidnapper that is offering him leads on the platter. That, eventually and rightly, sums up his on-field acumen.

Madaari treads on two threads, yet failing to deliver on either of them. On one, it follows Shergill’s grand but substance-less investigation, and on the other one, it showcases Irrfan’s unconvincing struggle in coping up with his loss and his desperation to achieve the goal he has set out for.

Shergill is perpetually creating a sense of urgency by walking at a brisk pace while dictating instructions to his men. He tell them that they are not allowed to sleep. Like his unclear demands from his colleagues, his threats are bizarre, too: warna tum log apna ‘resignation letter’ yahan aake ‘collect’ kar lena.

Well, you ‘offer’ your resignation and ‘collect’ your termination letter, and not vice-versa.

To complicate matters further for the viewers, periodically, in a rather abrupt and incomprehensible fashion, Shergill blurts out his obscure findings.

These are dialogues delivered in fast-forward mode. The maximum I could gather was: Shergill was zeroing-in on Irrfan and that he could be anywhere – between Hyderabad and Uttarakhand (spaced apart by about 1500kms!) – well-amalgamated with the common-man! Bite that preciseness!

Much expectedly, the game lasts till the climax of the movie, but Shergill loses his steam much earlier.

Director’s perceptions of outreach of technology and the life of a ‘technology professional’ reflect his shallow knowledge on this subject. This is witnessed both in investigation and Irrfan’s professional life. Chew this: All through the movie, police remains helpless and can’t track Irrfan’s movement because he is using something called ‘Internet phone’.

More than that Kamat blunders in understanding the power of social media. A couple of videos and the whole nation, along with media, has started passionately following the story of kidnapping of a state’s Home Minister’s son is unfathomable. These days, even for a video to go viral, it takes about a couple of weeks. The whole publicity act is unnatural and hurried-up.

Apart from the climactic revelations, Madaari gives you little chance of guesswork. Baring a few turns and twists, the story remains bland and leaves you hankering for much more than what the grueling opening promised.

How poorly-thought and badly panned out various scenes turn out to be, is aptly illustrated by a couple of examples. When Irrfan holds his new-born child, his wife, on the hospital bed in the background, doesn’t appear pale or frail. Instead, she appears fresh and rejuvenated. While single-parenting, Irrfan sleeps on the side of the bed that is along the wall and the baby sleeps on the free side of the bed!

Go further, Irrfan is a network-technician. That’s a pretty low-paying job in our country, but Irrfan carries about laptop and has the latest Apple products too.

Those are minor things. There are much bigger annoying things in Madaari.

An immense opportunity to showcase the beauty of a relationship between a single father and son has been royally squandered too. With the protracted duration that was allotted to father-and-son scenes, the viewer was supposed to fall in absolute love with the father-son duo (visualize, ‘Pursuit of Happyness’, for a moment). You don’t feel for their love or closeness.

If at all there is something that holds you till the credits roll for Madaari, it remains Irrfan and the young Vishesh Bansal, even though Madaari wouldn’t be counted as Irrfan’s best performances. He is a grieving father, a ruthless yet kind kidnapper hassled by a noisy seven-year old and a tough negotiator. The realization that he sees his own son in his victim adds to his agony. He remains gullible.

Vishesh’s reactions, on many occasions, transition flawlessly from being his natural bullish self to being scared of Irrfan. His conversations with Irrfan are natural, fresh and entertaining.

Support cast doesn’t offer much variety either. They all look consistently hassled.

Thanks to a weak script, a couple of underdeveloped relationships, even Irrfan fans are in for a huge disappointment in Madaari. Further, his sorrow is palpable at times but appears overdone, on a few other occasions. How and where he and the child-victim develop affinity and liking for each other remains inconspicuous.

The juggler (Madaari) juggles your emotions in a disjointed manner possibly presuming that you are in sleeping (Madaari..shhh desh so raha hai), and thus, would be more than satisfied with this half-baked, wasted opportunity.

It’s 2.5 out of 5 from my side.

P.S.: For the political aficionados, Madaari’s climax is a must watch.

Te3n Review: It’s a Bad ‘Kahaani’

Rating: 3/5

No Spoilers ahead.

The problem with Te3n is the perception it carries about: ‘From The Makers of Kahaani’.

Early-on in the movie, Amitabh Bachchan cooks a bad dish for his wife. She asks him the name of it. He says he picked it up from somewhere, doesn’t know the name and apparently forgot á few ingredients too, and thus, after tasting, confesses that he has ‘invented’ a dish.

That’s what Te3n is all about. It has been ‘invented’ with ingredients of Kahaani. Thanks — the makers didn’t forget to name the movie — but no thanks, for it’s an unobvious one.

Unfortunately, they threw out the primary elements from Kahaani – a natural yet thrilling script, crisp humour, and most importantly, the sinister feeling that lasted till the climax– and instead picked on the seasonings: Trains and Railway platforms, Kolkata trams, Durga Pooja celebrations, Howrah Bridge, ferry in Hooglhy river, narrow alleys of Kolkata, etc.

Regrettably these can’t make up for the unconvincing and made-up script of Te3n which is devoid of even a build-up to a clinching climax.

So, it’s a sour and half-baked dish for the fans of Kahaani. The suspense is inferior, the cops are not smart and logical as Parambrata Chatterjee and Nawazuddin Siddiqui, and there is no Bob Biswas this time to keep you on the edge of your seats.

Te3n is what the trailer shows you: Amitabh Bachchan is in search of the culprit responsible for killing his grand-child. Vidya Balan and Nawazuddin Siddiqui play cops. All three are in search of something, and probably, that is what Te3n (Three) means.

Nawazuddin Siddiqui plays the role of cop-turned-priest Martin diligently and portrays a number of emotions with much precision. Those emotions keep you intrigued with what he may be feeling but ask me what’s exactly Martin’s dilemma?

I don’t know! It’s not that it’s not explained. The movie keeps alternating between threads and that is where a distinct description of Martin’s character is lost somewhere out there in the middle. It fails to leave an impact. That’s what a poor script and editing can do to the acting of an established actor like Nawazuddin. He appears ordinary.

Vidya Balan, ‘in a guest role’ (as the casting said), is the weakest (?third?) link of the movie. She is stubborn with her conclusions and instead of being an open-to-reasoning investigator, she is in a hurry to close the case because her boss wants to ‘answer the media’. Can it get more clichéd?

For some incomprehensible reason, her character name (Sarita) is revealed much later in the movie. Juxtapose Tabu in Drishyam alongside Vidya Balan in Te3n, the latter falls flat on her nose. She looks aged, fatigued and lethargic and lacks the agility that (Bollywood) cops are expected to portray.

Apart from the good number of loopholes while unraveling the murder mystery, there are a few other unexplained threads, e.g. how does Vidya Balan know Nawaazuddin Siddiqui?

The character of Maulwi in Imambaara, is one of the many examples of forcibly fitting clues to keep the story moving. The investigation and logic of the protagonists culminating into the climax is rather abrupt and too fast to comprehend.

Add further to poor-detailing of Te3n: There is a pen that has survived for 8 years in a grave but appears to be brand-new.

So, what works for Te3n?

It is undoubtedly, Amitabh Bachchan’s role as John Biswas. John’s character is the most neatly-detailed character of Te3n. Sadly, it’s a double-edged sword for Te3n. On one hand he is a grieving grandfather who wants a closure to the death of his grandchild, but on the other hand the scenes portraying his suffering and daily challenges are the prime culprit in pulling down the pace of the movie.

Removing the role of his wife could have cut-short the movie by half an hour, thereby giving a lot of space to other characters.

Again, Kahaani fans have to live with this but if you leave that aside, BigB’s fantabulous portrayal of John is the backbone of Te3n. He genuinely appears to be suffering from insomnia and his yearning for the lost child is palpable.

He is a confused cook, an angry grandfather seeking redemption and his fragility while changing the gears of the scooter or running daily errands is laudable. He sings his pain in the Kyun-Re song, brilliantly.

All said and done, the slow pace, poor chemistry and exchange of dialogues between Vidya Balan and Nawazuddi Siddiqui, is compensated by an absolutely stunning background score. Besides wonderfully done make-up of Amitabh Bachchan, the background score is one of best thing Te3n offers. Clinton Cerejo’s music infuses life in Te3n at more than a handful occasions and keeps you connected with the emotions of the characters. Remove the background music from a few scenes and that’s it; the rating of Te3n would go down further.

For the Kahaani fans, it’s a 2.5 out of 5 but still watchable. Remember to leave Kahaani outside the auditorium.

For the rest, it’s an out and out BigB movie. It’s a 3.5. Just go for it.

Rating: 3/5.

Azhar Review:Bizzare, Incoherent Fiction

Rating: 2/5

Azhar is a pathetically done movie, and barring Arijit Singh’s melodious numbers, it fails to appeal on all fronts –performance, story line, plots, scenes, and lastly, a climax.

Would you develop a soft-corner for Azhar after watching the movie?

Umm.. Depends!

For the informed ones, Azhar is a wretched attempt to fix the image of the most controversial cricketer India has ever produced, i.e. Mohammad Azharuddin.

For the younger generation who don’t really relate to him or the ones who aren’t aware of the details of his match-fixing allegations, this may be a refreshing movie. After all, the court declared the ‘life ban’ as illegal.

A number of reel-life matches and incidents form the story line of Azhar. They appear patchy and absurd.

When you go to watch Azhar, you are looking out for the facts from his life, a depiction of events from his life as they happened, chronologically. However, to your dismay, there is a long list of disclaimers in the beginning that one is often reminded of along the movie.

A number of facts are butchered: Whereas Shastri’s last match was in ’92 World Cup and Azhar lasted till ‘00, the former is omnipresent in the movie; The players never sang the National Anthem before a Cricket match until very recently; Azhar goes to watch ‘Oye Oye’ (Tridev, ‘89) movie in the theatres whereas his affair with Sangeeta started much later in life.

Apart from the match-fixing scandal allegations, gaudy outfits and jazzy backdrops, there isn’t much happening in the life of Azhar.

The scriptwriter Rajat Arora deserves a huge round of applause for even attempting to write a positive story (from Azhar’s perspective) when there wasn’t one, apparently. It’s a desperate attempt to put-in a few light moments, e.g. Azhar’s father obsessed with how many underwear he carries or Azhar attempting to steal a moment of privacy with his wife.

For a sports-based movie, the crisp and crude conversations in dressing room or in the ground form the backbone of the movie. A commoner is curious about how players and administrators converse amongst each other. With just one exception where an administrator tells that Azhar is a captain and needs to be assertive, all other similar scenes flop miserably.

Apparently, the only purpose of Azhar is to portray that Azhar was a wonderful person at heart, a victim of circumstances and imprudent at trusting people. And yes, that he never did anything wrong. (forget all those confessional statements to the CBI and loads of evidence against him).

To give his life an emotional touch, it is depicted that when the allegations of match-fixing surfaced,  no one – family, friends, fellow cricketers, administrators, fans – stood by Azhar.

There is little exploration into what all went into making Azhar the most prolific cricket player of the country. His excellence seemed to have come ‘naturally his way’ rather than being a hard-earned one involving toiling night and day.

Even the attempt to depict Azhar’s pain when he turns from a hero to a villain overnight in the eyes of crores of Indians, is superficial and shallow.

So, all in all, you neither feel for his glory nor his plight. You just hang on to the movie, to see what more Cricket-related event is coming up.

It’s a horrific amalgamation of jumbled up scenes, poor script and disastrous editing. As you take a sip of your aerated drink, you realize, yet again adding to your confusion, that the movie has traversed in time.

Emraan Hashmi plays the damned Mohammad Azharuddin who touched the pinnacles of glory and when his fate went south, was vilified in the press. If the portrayal of Azhar as an incomprehensible, imprudent or a secretive person was deliberate, well then Emraan Hashmi has done a wonderful job!

His narrations are reminiscent of the ones in The Dirty Picture: grand, loud, yet impact less.

Frankly speaking, this is one of the biggest downers of Azhar. Its badly framed one-liners, delivered in supposedly path-breaking style, by Hashmi himself. ‘Allah apne Mohammad ke saath hai’, is just one of the many bizarre ones.

A huge hullabaloo is created about Meera (Lara Dutta) as an ace-prosecution lawyer whom even a Judge fears in the Court. Carrying in her the agony of a fan betrayed by Azhar, she appears venomous, ready to tear apart Azhar in the Court. But she gradually tumbles down on facts, thereby failing to humiliate him in the court. The transition in Meera is incongruous.

Prachi Desai (as Azhar’s first wife) and Nargis Fakhri (as the second one) fail to make a mark beyond a couple of scenes.

Amongst all these unnoticeable performances, Kunal Roy Kapoor as Azhar’s lawyer, Reddy, stands convincing with his Hyderabadi Hindi. He looks marvelously belittled by the prosecution lawyer, fumbles badly with his words and appears terrified of the Judge in the Court.

What’s works for Azhar then? Umm…it’s a Cricket-based movie. For a cricket-fan, there is a curiosity that the movie keeps buzzing with. The regular cricket-match sequences keeps you wondering ‘What’s next’ or what cricket-trivia or side-line tit-bit is lined up.

The way it keeps you wanting all along, the same way, sadly, it leaves you wanting for more too.

For the Cricket-fans out there, with IPL matches happening in the evening, and with not much lined-up in your afternoons, you are likely to enjoy anything that is Cricket-based. You can go for Azhar.

For others, here’s an quote from his first wife I read in an article, in the early ’90. She said: ‘Bas theek thaak hain Azhar!’

Well the movie Azhar is not even theek-thaak.

It’s a very optimistic 2/5 from my side.

Dilwale Review: Only for the pure Dil-waale out there

Dilwale: Only for the pure Dil-waale out there

Rating: 2/5.

Only when you are an admirer of Rohit Shetty’s movies, you should attempt to watch Dilwale. Juxtapose it with Singham, or may be, Chennai Express, it falls flat.

Scenic locations, flying cars, chase sequences set-up in Bulgaria, vintage car garage as the backdrop, colourful attires, you ask for anything that can be remotely gaudy, Dilwale offers shades of everything.

The only thing missing is a script and sense. As it turns out, that’s how it’s meant to be.

Nevertheless, Dilwale is for easy goers and if you have had apprehensions about quality of output of Rohit Shetty or have been cynical of recent movies of Shahrukh Khan, this one won’t come out any different.

The single reason DDLJ (’95) and KKHH (‘98) turned out to be blockbusters was the chemistry between Kajol and SRK. Two decades on, recreating the same magic in a romance based movie, would require a lot more than just the two of them.

As a result, Dilwale offers you a spectrum of masala threads: Varun Dhawan and Kriti Sanon with their underdeveloped and rather unconvincing love-story, Vinod Khanna and Kabir Bedi playing yesteryear kingpins with their sidekicks and then a contemporary, melodramatic, local don, King (Bomman Irani).

And along with these there are Johnny Lever and Sanjay Mishra, frantically fitted into the story with namesake introductions.

Even though the movie is about estranged lovers caught in family feud, nobody is even slightly lonely out here.

Raj (SRK), earlier Kali, is a gangster-turned-garage owner, has his 2 confidantes (Mukesh Tiwari and Pankaj Tripathi) to keep him company. His brother Veer (Varun Sharma) is surrounded by youngies (Varun Sharma, Chetna Pande, etc.) whose only interest is to go out with their girlfriends. Early on, Veer is also joined by Ishita (Kriti Sanon), as his love interest, in a clichéd fashion.

Bomman Irani (reminiscent of Don in Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa), switches over to the dream world at the slightest opportunity and starts playing a virtual piano. He is also madly in love with the vintage car he inherited from his father.

Dilwale, doesn’t load it’s audience with intellectual understanding of its characters or the turnarounds of a situation. Even further, there is hardly any tormenting on the emotional front either.

While Veer is busy with his random acts of oblivion, Raj showers all his brotherly love on him by pardoning all his mistakes.

Bizarre dialogues like, “Aapka restaurant ka business hai lekin ismein take-away ya home-delivery nahin hai,”, are splashed all through.

It may take a while or may be forever to recall and understand the meaning of many similar dialogues as this one. The pace at which these ‘comic one-liners’ come about is frantic and hence comprehending all of them as they come is next to impossible. People in the audience laugh at whichever they understood. So, at any given juncture the auditorium has someone or the other laughing, thereby, assuring a base-level of liveliness in the auditorium.

The movie script doesn’t impose any preconditions on the audience; it similarly doesn’t push its characters into extreme situations or demanding performances either.

Varun Sharma, Kriti Sanon have not much to do in Dilwale primarily because they can’t hold the frame on their own. It’s Shahrukh Khan and Kajol who whenever together – happens not that often though – keep your eyes glued to the screen.

Each and every dialogue or gesture of SRK can be traced to an earlier movie of his. Dilwale is a walk in the park for him.

Two actors stand apart for their stellar performance. Kajol (as Meera) is one of them. She captures your attention and mesmerizes your imagination with her presence on the screen. Meera’s role lacks variety but she needs to conceal her true emotions from others around her. Kajol portrays Meera with simplicity.

The other actor, completely unexpected amongst the big names, is Sanjay Mishra, in the role of Oscar, a dealer in second-hand cars. His job is the toughest one: entertain you when Varun Dhawan, the youngies, Bomman Irani, etc. have failed to titillate you. He offers you bizarre tongue-twisting yet rhyming one-liners. Sajid-Farhad, the dialogue writers, excel in framing a few awesomely creative comical dialogues for Mishra.

Johnny Lever’s dialogues delivered in South Indian ascent can only be truly appreciated if you know a bit of similar pronunciations in any of the down-south languages. Each and every word he utters is with precision.

Barring the exception of the melodious Gerua song – shot in absolute picturesque locations with amazing camera work – the music of Dilwale, is unimpressive. Their short duration covers up for their coarseness and hence leaves your mood unharmed.

And lastly, when the credits roll, you find a mention of individual make-up artists for all the big names in the movie. Shahrukh looks young and charming, Kajol an absolute stunner, Kabir Bedi and Vinod Khanna are presentable and Johnny Lever looks unaged. An early-on mention in the credits is indeed a fitting acknowledgement to the grand achievement of the make-up artists.

Dilwale requires you to be a Dil-waala, as there is very little on the thought-provoking front. The brainy, Dimaag-waale, can give it a miss.

TVF Pitchers Review: Best when watched TWICE!

Editing credit: Rajiv Dixit.

Background: There’s a group called “The Viral Fever” on youtube ( http://www.tvfplay.com) that has launched its series called “TVF Pitchers”, a couple of months back. Recently, Pitchers’ final episode was released.

Review:

Pitchers is a ‘Start-up’ adventure of 4-youngsters, which frequently comes dangerously close to turning into a misadventure. Pitchers titillates your curiosity, it makes you long to meet the actors, its writer and director. The reason being what they portray is strikingly close to the hardships and the emotional turmoil faced by the generation in their 20s. Each decision has the potential of making or breaking the life of a youngster. And Pitchers pitches on that emotion.

Spread across five episodes, the series presents hilarious introductions to a bunch of four youngsters in their mid-20s. They have a ‘million-dollar idea’. Impertinent exits from well-paying jobs follow, comical complications in family and relationships unfold, and then comes the biggest challenge: Who gives them the money? And do they give it ‘the way these four want it from them’?

In the world of cinema, where the only barometer of success is how many people come out to buy tickets at the Box Office, TVF Pitchers is a refreshing and fitting response to many mindless multi-crore movies.

You are bound to leave a comment at their website nearly imploring them: I can’t wait, when is the season two of it coming out?

Pitchers takes you into the world of ‘Start-up’. What goes into the making or breaking of it, the regressions and delicate portions of the relationships involved, the unforeseen challenges it can throw at you, how clashes can push you to the breaking point, the brutal functioning of the corporate world with the inherent manipulations involved, making and breaking of a team and hearts.

The storytelling aspect of this one would keep swinging you between emotions or amusement. And if not either, you would be on the edge of your seat wondering: Now what?

The characters’ description, detailing and their consistency is THE strength of Pitchers and it’s of impeccable quality.

Reflect on the recent movies you have watched and which is your most favorite character? Most likely, it would be someone to whom you can relate to: it could be you, your friend, your boss, your father, your spouse or your girlfriend.

That is where TVF Pitchers clicks. All its characters are comfortably perched around your daily lives.

Jeetu (Jeetendra Kumar) is an ace-programmer; he is the one who just longs to be the ‘good boy’. With an arranged marriage that has not blossomed yet, and a father who ‘knows it all’, Jeetu has tasted professional success but remains deprived of appreciation and validation from the very people he loves. This has left him with supressed wounds which flare-up on certain occasions.

Mandal (Abhay Mahajan), a typical MBA, is a cute fellow who believes presentation is the key differentiator between the ordinary and the extravagant. His random insights are mostly irritating but such ‘samples’ are out there, available in plenty. A loner due to his over caring nature and insisting attitude, he wants to desperately break-free from the stigma attached to him about being orthodox, latch on to the team of intellectuals (his only ‘friends’) and end up in a league way above his existing one.

Yogi (Arunabh Kumar) is that ruthless fellow who is conspicuously present and vividly noticeable, if you visit a LIVE-concert venue, a day before concert. He would be treating people as ‘objects’ and would be screaming instructions at everyone without any mercy. Yogi manages the logistics of the team. However rash one may be, everyone has a soft spot in their character. So does Yogi. When titillated, the revelations that spill-out from him leaves you astonished and stupefied.

Naveen (Naveen Kasturia), the CEO (of the yet-to-succeed start-up), is the delicate thread that holds all the mavericks together. He walks the fine line, avoids trivial conflicts, and steps in only when he has to sell the conviction of his idea or a decision to his team. He is sturdy but as fragile and vulnerable as any youngster in their early-20s would be. When threatened with unforeseen fear he can buckle, only to bounce back a bit later.

TVF Pitchers is both a learning for those who desire to do so and an emotional entertainer for those who want to have a laugh riot with the struggling youth of the country.

It’s a sneak preview into the dirty side of the corporate world: How people manipulate each other, how information is extracted, how minds are changed from a ‘no to yes’ and vice-versa.

TVF Pitchers has a spectrum of events and emotions to offer, all palpable. The topic appears well researched by the creators (Biswapati Sarkar, Amit Golani, Arunabh Kumar, and team) and that aptly reflects in the variety of human interactions it portrays.

In all episodes, there is a reason why a character is doing what they are doing. The more you get into it, the more intriguing it turns out to be.

Remember that moment when you are slowly walking out of the cinema-auditorium, and are in such an awe of what just finished, that you ask your accomplice or even a stranger, “How does that guy show-up at the climax? Why did he have a band-aid on his neck?”. Over the coffee that follows after, you end up discussing the movie for about half an hour finding parallels and similarities to your own life.

The bottom line is, TVF Pitchers is so close to reality that it takes you over in amazement.

Whereas the whole series leaves you at times with a lump in throat and amused at other occasions, certain portions come out to be long and boring. Jeetu’s prolonged interactions with his father, the three’s stint at the investor-gathering are the patchy portions that slow-down the otherwise fast moving, interesting story.

The sidekick, Rastogi (Gopal Dutt), does well to irritate you, but has his role overstretched. A female actor in the team of protagonists would have given a twist and flavor to the whole series. At times, it feels too technical and engineering-college centric.

Having said that, these ignore-able flaws don’t threaten to hijack the series in a larger sense.

Together with well-authored dialogues, the haunting background scores remains the unsaid backbone of Pitchers. It (naturally) stirs up your emotions for the character on the screen. You are likely to play certain portions over and over again and would long to hear the full version of the shortened soulful music.

The editing is so perfectly orchestrated that you never realize that on more than one occasion, two unrelated stories are running at different locations. Unknown to you, you remain simultaneously curious about the outcome of both.

Somewhere in the first episode, Naveen’s boss mocks at him subtly and says: “Baahar jaake dekho Naveen! 3 mein se 2 cabin mein sab start-up founders hi baithe hain (This idea of start-up is so casual that every two out of three professionals in this office are ‘day-dreaming’ of forming their own start-up.)”

I would recommend: Go about in a corporate office in the morning. 2 out of 3 youngsters are watching TVF Pitchers.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

( 0.5 deducted for the foul language usage that doesn’t let me recommend it to my niece and nephews!)

 

Footnotes:

Targeted for: above 18 (but strictly below 35, umm.. ok, 40).

Best male character: Jeetu

Best female character: Shreya

Best sarcastic dialogue: “One in hand is obviously better than one not-so-sure in the bush.”

Best comical dialogue: “Sex karne ke liye koi shaadi karna compulsory thode hi hai…?”

Best emotional dialogue: “Disagree karte hain unse, disrespect nahin karte hain unki”

Best background music: When Naveen leaves for the Airport in the first episode.

Review: Manjhi-The Moutain Man, goes out and out to Nawazuddin’s Siddiqui

‘Manjhi-The Mountain Man’ is not for soft-hearted people. It’s rough, and at the same time, delicate.

It’s an inspiring saga of grit, determination and stamina of person who has, not just rock-solid but ‘mountain-solid’ determination.

Set in an underserved village of ultra-rural Bihar, Manjhi’s heartening tale treads through the tough times India faced in the post-independence era. The disturbing realities faced by commoners were umpteen – the abolishment of untouchability in ’50s hardly had a change in the mind-set of people, the oppression of the poor by the zamindaars followed by the onset of Naxalism in the late ’60s, then to grand elocutions of ‘garibi hatayo’ by Indira Gandhi in the ‘70s, government grants gulped without a trace by the middlemen and finally to the supressing times of Emergency.

There is not much unknown in the story of Manjhi-The Mountain Man. Dashrath Manjhi (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) belongs to maha-dalit community, is a young lad who lives in the village of Wazirpur that has rocky mountain ranges around it. A ‘happy go lucky’ person, he finds a meaning to his life when he meets his bride from child-marriage, Phaguniya (Radhika Apte). Theirs is a love-at-first-sight story – depicted endearingly in Manjhi – where her father wants a higher marriage-settlement amount before he lets Dashrath have her.

They run away to live a happy married life until she dies off because of almost out-of-reach medical-aid – a mountain range stands between the village and the primary health centre. The travel time around the ridge is an onerously protracted one.

With his inspiration gone, Manjhi has his task cut-out: He wants to take a revenge on no other than the mountain itself so that no one suffers the same ill-fate as he did.

Hereafter it’s Dashrath’s determination, his supporters (hardly any) and his detractors, the hardship he faces, his soliloquy – first hatred, then love – with the mountain and the fond remembrances of his wife that keep him motivated in the task taken up him.

The intriguing aspect of the movie Manjhi is the fact that it attends to its central thread without wasting much time on usual nuances of married life of Dashrath and Phaguniya. Their moments of joy are largely visited as per remembrances of Dashrath, and hence, it keeps the interest alive in spite of the fact that you know that Dashrath, unmistakably, will succeed splitting the mountain into two.

His pain, limited knowledge of worldly affairs and frustrations vented out at the mountain are palpable. His determination is portrayed gallantly.

At a stage, in times of Emergency sprung by protests everywhere, Dashrath walks for over a thousand kilometres –TT threw him out for a ticket-less travel – and reaches Rajpath, along with a handful supporters – they joined him on the way – to meet the Prime Minister of the country. Police lathi-charges but Dashrath steps aside to check the whereabouts of the country’s Prime Minister. His purpose: some money allocated to him for making a road through the mountain hasn’t reached him. Belittled by a regular cop, he is back to the place which he loves the most – the mountain – to resume his cutting work.

Manjhi’s grit and will-power has to overpower the hardest, abundant creation of nature: a rocky mountain. He has no support either.

Had the Dashrath Manjhi been alive today, he would have embraced Nawazuddi Siddiqui for portraying the role of “Manjhi-The Mountain Man”. Till the time, Dashrath is clean-shaven, you see Nawazuddin Siddiqui on the screen. The time his beard develops, they blend into one: Dashrath Manjhi.

Dashrath Manjhi’s character depiction is pleasantly detailed. It’s interesting to see how an illiterate man, who has little worldly sense, can still maintain focus and practise strong values. He doesn’t fear anyone and never gives-up on anything without giving an earnest try. Things don’t hold him up for long either.

Chiselling a mammoth ridge with an iron-rod and a hammer is an incredible task, but that’s not it. Dashrath scrapes scathe-free from the challenges the system, the society, the harsh weather and his body poses to him.

Alas, unlike Dashrath Manjhi’s inspirational life, the movie Manjhi has a number of flaws, and it does fall short of landing in the bracket of Iqbal or Chak De India or Pan Singh Tomar.

The frequent back and forth switching of time only exacerbates the overall comprehension of the chronology. Why Manjhi doesn’t relocate from his home-town when he had already witnessed joys of a life elsewhere, how does he fend for himself, how his body never gives up, how he never pays attention to the tool-kit he uses, remain either unattended to or the presented reasons appear unconvincing.

Somewhere in between, Manjhi is reminiscent of Cast Away and you would feel bad about what Manjhi missed out on. The conspicuously missing aspect amongst these unanswered questions stemming from common-sense, is: At no stage, the camera tells you how far Dashrath has succeeded in his endeavour or for that matter, what portion of the work still remains?

He mustn’t be just madly hammering the mountain without at least a vague direction in which he has to chisel.

This is the only missing aspect of the otherwise outstanding, camerawork Manjhi presents you with. The ariel views of Manjhi at work are mesmerizing.

The background score and the songs only complement the mood of the narrative and keeps your attention intact.

These flaws are aptly covered largely by innocent situational humour and invigorating performance by Nawazuddin Siddiqui and the charming Radhika Apte. She settles with comfortable ease in the role of Phagunia, a housewife in a deprived village set-up. Her dialogue delivery is spontaneous.

Ashraf Ul Haque’s role, as father of Manjhi, is a paradox: It’s both brutal and comic.

For the old-time fans of Deepa Sahi, who also is the producer of movie, she features in a beautifully done cameo.

Manjhi is about the people who fall back on nothing but their efforts because they know there is little to expect from an inept, corrupt and uncaring system out there.

Nawazuddin Siddiqui, oops Dashrath Manjhi, is an inspiration for anyone with whatever challenge they are facing in life.

It’s a 3 out of 5, but I would say that watch it for on-screen resurrection of Dashrath Manjhi by Nawazuddi Siddiqui.

Drishyam Review: Packed with suspense, loose on performance!

Drishyam is not a horror-movie but the fear factor remains alive all along the movie. The base line of the movie is so real that by the end of it you would be grappling with: ‘What if it happens to me or my family…?”

A spoilt brat threatens to tear apart the endearing family of Vijay (Ajay Devgn), his wife, Nandini (Shriya Saran), and their two daughters when he blackmails the elder one (Ishita Dutta), in her teens, asking for illicit favours.

He has a video that he filmed on the young girl in the ladies restroom using a concealed mobile-phone camera. This happens on an earlier school-sponsored nature-camp where the girl had been ‘selected’ for the trip.

This is what makes the movie dead-scary. Think about it: Having watched this reel-life fiction, in real life you are likely to be reminded of this event more often than not.

Vijay, an illiterate but shrewd cable-TV operator, is a movie-buff who doesn’t miss out on any movie, has a word of practical advice for anyone who is in trouble. His source: Scenes from the countless movies he has watched.

Events transpire at a quick pace and here after the mother and daughter duo kill the young fellow in an act of self-defense.

And just when you wonder that this is going to be an extended ‘taareek-pe-taareek’ courtroom drama, the bewildered yet steadfast Vijay resolves to script his own thriller-version of an Indian movie. Pledging to pull-out his family from this mess without admission of guilt, he meticulously scripts the future and rightly earns applaud from the galleries.

The deceased boy is none other than the son of Inspector-General of Police, Meera (Tabu) and her industrialist husband (Rajat Kapur).

Here onward, the ‘cat and mouse’ game commences between the lady and Vijay. It seems like a perfect murder where there is hardly any evidence or witness or even grounds of suspicion to arrest anyone from Vijay’s family. But somehow Police have laid their eyes on Vijay.

It’s a fascinating tale loaded with twists and turns. When strangers coherently testify in favour of Devgn’s stories, Tabu renders a beautiful explanation to ‘Drishyam’, i.e. the power of visuals and how strongly it affects our memory to the extent of forgetting reality.

Notwithstanding the drama and the suspense, the movie keeps you sympathetic towards Vijay and his cute family. You never wish that the law catches up them. Go further, you pray that they escape scathe-free. Such is the bonding the family develops with the viewer. Beyond a point, you don’t worry about ‘who is right, who is wrong?’, you just want the family to be safe, hale and hearty, like it was before.

Unfortunately, the fear of mediocre performances looms large on the movie. If not for the sheer brilliance of its script and the enthralling sequencing of events, Drishyam would have passed unnoticed.

Tabu, as IG of Police, is a huge disappointment in Drishyam. Her power-laden introduction as a cop, just before the intermission, promises a mouth-watering finish to the upcoming face-off between her and Ajay Devgn. But disheartening it may be for many of her fans from yesteryear, there isn’t a single argumentative scene between the two main protagonists.

Devgn’s forte is dialogue-delivery during arguments; that remains unexploited in Drishyam.

The poorly scripted cop-to-cop interaction adds to further misery of the audience. The sequences where the cops are dissecting the possible events that might have transpired are so flawed and mediocre that you wonder if there is any other cop apart from Tabu who can ‘think’. They all look so dwarfed and contained in front of her.

In one scene, Tabu laments, “saare police department ka mazaak bana ke rakh diya is chauthi fail anpad ne..” (The 4^th-standard flunk, illiterate has mocked the whole Police Department).

In fact, Devgn only adds to Police’s misery. They themselves make a laughing stock of their competency and skills. For some reason beyond comprehension, Meera keeps herself surrounded by petty cops instead of some smart guys who can provide her valuable leads.

The ‘personal’ element is missing in this saga for IG Meera. Her son is missing and that’s not an ordinary event in a mother’s life no matter what colored uniform she dresses up in. She looks more interested in solving the case for the intellectual challenge it has thrown at her. Even as she breaks down a few times, the mother in Meera never looks worried or shaken-up.

The pursuit of Vijay to bring the case to a conclusion favoring his family is what keeps the thrill intact throughout the movie. If not for this reason, the loose ends continuously threaten to outweigh the powerful central theme of the narrative.

Drishyam is more about Ajay than Vijay. No matter how many justifications one presents for Ajay Devgn’s character, it comes out as  incoherent. How can a person, in know-how of the situation, plans all his moves to save his family, but never worries about their frailness and vulnerability in case of eventualities?

Seeing his antics, how much ever unreal it may appear when you look back, he should have been fittingly offered the job of a cop.

Performances from the child artists are palpable, packed and credible. Shriya Saran as Vijay’s wife never goes beyond being visually scared. Much early on, her fear starts to look repetitive and stale.

Rajat Kapur’s role as Meera’s husband is a face-saver in the scenes involving the khakhi-clad men. On almost all occasions, he tends to put some sense in the power-inebriated cops who have only one solution to offer: ‘let’s-bash-up-and-get-a-confession’.

One character which stands out is that of the despicable Inspector Gaitonde (Kamlesh Sawant). First you dislike him, and by the end of it you are filled with abhorrence for him. This depiction is not an easy feat for an actor who just has the role of a sidekick cop.

The songs in the movie (music director, Vishal) appear melodious but fail to leave a lasting impression. The excellent background score, the picturesque locations, thanks to some lovely camerawork, makes you fall in love with Goa all over again.

All said and done, the ‘What’s next?’ aspect of the movie keeps you glued to your seat. Certainly the curiosity lasts till the end making the three hours worthwhile.

I would go with 3/5 for the involvement it commands from its audience.