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.

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.

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.

Piku Review: Irritatingly Endearing

Piku is full of shit-talk. Yes, you read that one right. A straight-forward way to befriend the 70-year old Bhaskar Banerjee (Amitabh Bachchan) is to bring up the topic of constipation. Be it at the dinner table, a drive, a party, corporate office meeting, or anywhere else, Bhosh-kor (as he pronounces it), can be effortlessly diverted from his cynical talk to ways to relieve constipation – a chronic problem he faces on a regular basis.

Bhaskar wouldn’t mind talking about the state — looseness, tightness, pulpiness — of his bowels. In fact, he relishes conversing about it to the extent that when the receptionist at his daughter, Piku’s, (Deepilka Padukone), workplace tells her to leave a message for her as she is in a meeting, he ends up describing his excreta. Pushed by Piku the receptionist reads it a loud to the embarrassment of all present.

Following a brief illness, the Bengali family of two, along with the servant, decide to visit Kolkata (from Delhi), the place where Bhaskar grew up and built a house long back the inhabitants of which currently are his compassionate brother and an ever-complaining  sister-in-law. Each trivial decision in Bhaskar’s family is preceded by an endless debate. This time it is on the mode of travel to Kolkata.

It is decided that a cab would be hired from Rana Chaudhary’s (Irrfan) cab company (in times of Ola and Uber, it may sound preposterous, but yes, Rana is an engineer who has resorted to running this business as a compulsion). Earlier acrimonious exchanges between Rana and Piku adds the apt complexity to the narrative.

Very much like Piku’s problems with her father, Rana has a nagging mother and a difficult sister to deal with. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to give them a mouthful only to get it back from them.

On the day of scheduled departure from Delhi, Rana’s driver doesn’t show up. Living up to his commitment, Rana decides to drive Piku and her father to Kolkata. From here starts a comic drive, filled with road humps where Bhaskar is insulting Rana every now and then and the father-daughter are perpetually arguing in the Innova vehicle perched on top of which is a huge potty-seat (obviously, that of Bhaskar).

They reach Kolkata and the new settings provides more occasions for idiosyncrasies of the characters in the frame.

And amongst this if you missed out, Bhaskar is constipated. He makes sure that each one remembers it at all times.

The beauty of Piku lies in the non-judgmental nature of its characters. They yell at call each other, show their intolerance towards another and yet they are never nearing a break-up point.

An unforgiving Bhaskar would disregard the mannerisms of Chaubi Maasi (Mousami Chatterjee) – sister of his deceased wife, who doesn’t lose an occasion to sharpen her nails. She has an affinity and affection for Piku, but has high aversion to Bhaskar for he would incessantly criticize her deceased sister. Bhaskar fancied an intellectual wife than a loving and caring woman which his wife was.

Shoojit Sircar, the director, follows the streak of his earlier venture Vicky Donor and rakes-up another topic that is very much there but never deemed appropriate for open discussion: constipation. Sircar’s affinity towards Kolkata and Bengali people punched with hilarious self-deprecating humour keeps you on the roll.

On one occasion at the dining table, Irrfan has impressed Bhaskar with his reasons of constipation. In admiration Bhaskar replies, “Bhhherryyy Logical.”

Bhaskar’s younger brother sitting next to him is impressed by Rana’s intellectual correlation but perturbed he is as he questions Rana, “Are you sure you are not a Bengali?”

Though Piku is a family movie but it lingers on occasionally and appears directionless as it progresses. However, the melodious background music will provide the audience a gratifying respite from this fallacy. Sircar has certainly faltered on finding an apt title for this movie. It’s either about Bhaskar or ‘motion’ but ‘Piku’ is not the central theme of the movie.

Apart from Rana, most of the characters are either irritated or are shouting at each other. The sidekicks have no option but to just put up with it. Considerable attention has been paid to the character description of the supporting actors. Their faces reflect a fear of falling into mediocracy and facing the consequences when Bhaskar is around. His domestic help, his doctor (Raghubir Yadav), his brother and his wife, his sister-in-law, are often grappling with Bhaskar’s unpredictable, erratic behaviour.

Apart from the subtle justification of “Motion se hi Emotion”, the movie doesn’t explicitly pushes one into self-realization or subsequent correction. As a result, for some it may be an entertainer and for others it may have a hidden profound insight.

Deepika Padukone has stood well against Amitabh Bachchan. The simplicity with which she has slipped into the role of Piku is laudable. Her frustrations and burn-outs are palpable. The subtle expressions on her face when she is checking out Irrfan for his reaction on any scuffle going around is worth a watch.

Irrfan is at his best when he has to stammer in confusion and bewilderment. His performance is no match for the one in ‘The Lunchbox’ but he steals the scene (from Bachchan and Deepika) wherever he gets a chance.

Piku is about the around-30 generation who are taking care of their parents, possibly stressed out dealing with their irritability on a daily basis, but are still putting up with it because somewhere deep in their heart, they realize their own incompleteness and thus love their parents the way they are.

It’s about nagging yet persuading, cribbing yet endearing, fighting yet touching, and lastly, it’s about a few tears and many guffaws.

I insist that this is a movie you shouldn’t miss on this summer.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Finding Fanny: Review

Don’t bother much about Fanny, it’s the humor that’s worthwhile.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Finding Fanny is endearing, hilarious and is loaded with eccentricity. And mind you, this is set-up in a Goa that one might not have ever witnessed on their holiday excursions.

At the onset, the narrator of the movie, Angie (Deepika Padukone), warns you about not even attempting to search for the village the movie is set-in because you wouldn’t be able to find it. Extend it further, and through the movie, you witness numerous picturesque locations in Goa. I bet you wouldn’t recognize even a single one, no matter for how many jaunts you have had in Goa.

The movie revolves around five people who have ventured out on a road-trip in an old car, in search of Stephanie “Fanny” Fernandez.

46-years earlier, Ferdie (Naseeruddin Shah), an eccentric post-master, had posted a love-letter to Fanny to which she never responded. One night when Ferdie receives back the same letter, undelivered, he is heart-broken. All these years he thought he had been rejected by Fanny but now it appears that his proposal never reached her.

The young Angie, an orphan and a widow, has fatherly affection towards Ferdie and suggests to him that they should go out in search of Fanny. Angie, lives with her self-obsessed mother-in-law, Rosie (Dimple Kapadia), who is a widow herself and has delusions about her looks.

The other compatriots in the journey are the owner of the rusted car, another nonconformist, a painter, Don Pedro (Pankaj Kapoor) and the driver, Savio (Arjun Kapoor). Whereas Savio appears to have disconnected from life but still has feelings for Angie, Don Pedro is obsessed with the bottoms of Rosie. After seeing Rosie, he has found a purpose in life, i.e. to draw a painting of Rosie.

Whereas the search for Fanny is fairly discreet, it turns out that the compatriots are in search of something indistinct. They all are dysfunctional in a way and have regressions pertaining to one another.

Early on in the movie the car-journey has begun and there isn’t any intriguing aspect of the plot beyond this. So, it is left to the characters, dialogues, cinematographer and the musicians to steer you through. And none of them disappoint.

The background score through the movie is reflective of the mood of the situation and keeps you hooked on to the movie. The songs aptly fall in place with the narrative.

Screen performance wise, Deepika Padukone has come out outstanding. Her expressions and schemes are the pivot-point for the movie. She looks ravishing and admirable in the traditional Goans outfits. For her fans, this is a not-be-to-missed movie.

Naseeruddin Shah plays Ferdie with innocence and his sudden invigoration in life is both hilarious and abnormal. He has no concept of time when it comes to Fanny. His pure visualizations of the young Fanny makes you further adore Ferdie with all his flaws.

Dimple Kapadia dresses up in outlandish, brightly colored clothes and plays a bizarre character who hasn’t accepted harsh realities of life. In the beginning of the movie, her hipster skirt tears-off from behind as she bends forward. To cover the snap of the garment, she puts on an umbrella. Rosie’s little idiosyncrasies are reflective of she living in her teenage where she would have been a heart-stop for many. Her anguish and regrets are discernible.

Pankaj Kapoor’s role is a full-blast version of his role in Matru Ki Bijli Ka Mandola. Whereas, there depictions of his lecherous inclinations towards Shabana Azmi were countable, here they are an overkill for Dimple Kapadia. His urgency-inducing, lewd expressions and odd-mannerisms as a painter are the prime culprits to a numerous guffaws in the auditorium.

Among all these established stalwarts, there is Arjun Kapoor as Savio. He has unresolved complaints in life and has created an artificial, lonely world around him. To be frank, when you are around with three experienced pros and one hot superstar, it is easy to turn out to be a show-spoiler. Arjun Kapoor surprises by his palpable portrayal of Savio.

A few side-kicks like the priest at the church and the Russian drunkard complement the movie with their own unique punch of humor.

The movie lacks a gripping plot and although the amazingly peppy and fast background score does well to conceal the slow pace of the movie, by and large one knows that the search for Fanny is symbolic. Apart from Naseeruddin Shah, no one, not even the audience, is interested in the whereabouts of Fanny.

It turns out to be who-cracks-the-next-joke movie rather than fueling your curiosity about who Fanny was and where is she now.

The movie is set-up in the present day, and the recollections of the past are only through verbal descriptions of the characters. The narrative fails to vividly portray the past of the characters and substantiate as to why they are the way they are.

If you have enjoyed The Lunchbox, Dedh Ishqiya, this one is an another one you shouldn’t miss.

The drive may be slow but this 93-minute tour to unfrequented destinations of Goa is worth a shot.

I go for a rating of 3.5 out of 5 for the dark yet subtle and light-hearted humour ‘Finding Fanny’ boasts of.

Humpty Sharma ki Dulhania: Review

Earlier this year in February, one may recall a political-satire video that became viral on YouTube, titled — Bollywood Aam Aadmi Party : Arnab’s Qtiyapa. (If you haven’t watched that one, go do so right away.)

In that video the news anchor, playing Arnab Goswami, accuses a spokesperson of ‘YRPKJP (Yash Raj Productions Karan Johar Productions) alliance’ aka United Producers’ Alliance (UPA) saying, “Your numerous attempts to recreate DDLJ and KKHH have failed. Don’t you think it’s time you stop using ‘new generation’ and ‘new love’ in your tag-lines?”

And when I tell you that Humpty Sharma ki Dulhania (HSKD) is a product of Dharma Productions, produced by Karan Johar, and is directly inspired by DDLJ, plot-wise, event-wise, this is what you may end up questioning.

In the start of the movie, Humpty Sharma (Varun Dhawan) is shown watching DDLJ. While doing so, his eyes are wet on the high-on-emotion scenes.

19-years on, apart from few changes here and there, not much has changed in HSKD.

Switzerland sojourn has been substituted with a wedding-outing in Delhi, the life in the fields of Punjab has gone to urban set-up of a rich family in Ambala, leaving rest other events and characters unchanged.

A young, mischievous, prankster and bindaas Kavya’s (Alia Bhatt) marriage is fixed up with chosen-by-father NRI groom, Angad (Siddharth Shukla). She lands up in Delhi in search of a self-financed, designer Lehenga, which costs 5 lakhs. In a comic turnaround of events she meets Humpty Sharma, and with all stunts that may sound like ‘new generation love’, they end up falling for each other.

Shortly after, Kavya goes back to Ambala to prepare for her forthcoming wedding. Humpty follows and end up straightaway into the hands of Kavya’s father, Singh (Ashutosh Rana). (You may be surprised to hear that Ashutosh didn’t vanish into the wilderness after his role in Haasil. He has been there all along, his flicks weren’t noteworthy though).

Apart from Ashutosh Rana attempting to emulate the terror of Amrish Puri in DDLJ, the prominent characters from the evergreen movie of mid-90s are all there: Kavya’s mother, granny, elder sister, Humpty’s father and friends, Singh’s family members, etc.

Singh challenges Humpty to prove himself worthy of marrying his daughter, but solely in comparison to Angad. The treatment of the challenge is laudable and it generates considerable interest in the situation that evolves from here onwards.

Nevertheless, a sense of suspense, an engagement of the viewers to the characters and a tickling excitement towards the climax are missing from the script. The music, background scores never add any value either.

Ashutosh Rana’s character is not well defined. Whereas at times, he sits with his wife and mother looking gullible and wounded, on other occasions, he outsmarts his ruthlessness — he oversees a few bash-ups of Humpty and his friends and gives out repeated, empty threats —  by his sadistic entertainment-seeking tendencies. This is not the Ashutosh Rana one may remember from Dushman or Sanghursh. In portraying numerous shades of his characters — they are hilarious as and when they come out — his eventual character comes out to be unpredictable yet inscrutable.

Varun Sharma infuses considerable energy in the character of Humpty but that is limited to lighter scenes. His performance as madly-in-love Humpty who experiences pain and a sensation of urgency because of Kavya’s nearing marriage, leaves much to be desired.  For Alia Bhatt, Kavya’s role is like a walk. It’s an extension of her roles in earlier flicks. HSKD wouldn’t be a memorable performance from her.

One may recall the ever-running serial Baalika Vadhu, on the television channel, Colors, and it’s ‘IAS officer Shiv’. Shiv has directly landed from the sets of the sop as Angad in HSKD. If you end up referring Angad as Shiv, that means something, i.e. Siddharth Shukla has not grown out of Shiv.

For the ones who have a flair for detailing, there are a handful of topics that one may be disappointed with. Humpty reaches Delhi with a SRK-style leather jacket, and Kavya points out to him that it’s too hot in Delhi to put on a jacket. A few days later in the movie, the characters are seen grappling with biting-cold of Delhi weather.

The movie opens up a number of threads and leaves them unattended: the fate of the relationship of Kavya’s sister and her father, how Kavya’s father changes his mind, what happens to Angad, and the list goes on.

Having said that, the movie has its saving grace. It comes in the form of hilarious repartees and banters between Alia, Varun and his friends. In one of the scenes, where Kavya’s friend is acknowledging Humpty for his effort for pulling her out from her plight, the friends pitch-in regretfully: mehnat tou hamne bhi kee thee, jhappi tou hamko bhi milni chahiye. The lady reciprocates right away. That’s what Humpty’s friends, Shonty and Poplu, bring in. They are the endearing and believable friends anyone would desire to have.

The tempo of the movie is another aspect where it goes well for it. A short film of about 132 minutes, is initially slow but then picks up and doesn’t bore you in the build up to the climax. As a matter of fact, the movie never seems to develop the urgency in its final 15-odd minutes.

Those who possess a flair for high-end costumes and dances, there is much for them out here.

It’s a leisurely watch. You may go for it if there isn’t anything better to do. The mantra to enjoy HSKD is either to have never watched DDLJ or to have gotten done with its hangover long back.

I would go for a 2.5/5 for the freshness and the laughter it provides, uncooked or half-baked it may be.

Queen: Review

Rating: 4/5

Recommendation: Must watch!

Queen is gentle yet merciless, entertaining and endearing but yet overwhelming.

Here’s how Rani (Kangana Ranaut) introduces herself in a foreign country: I am Rani from Rajouri, India.

In case you thought of a place in Kashmir, hold on for a moment. She meant Rajouri Gardens – a locality in Delhi.

At such a juncture, you realize that the protagonist in front of you is dumb, lacks street smartness, has followed others all along and you, the viewer, has ended up choosing an inflicting movie that will depict how an Indian female is still suppressed and powerless in a society where ‘women empowerment’ is the latest buzzword.

Add further, Rani doesn’t know how to cross the road but has ventured on an international honeymoon. The glitch is: a day before the scheduled date of her marriage her fiance (Rajkummar Rao) has dumped her (without a reason) throwing Rani, her immediate and extended family in disorder.

During this agonizing aftermath, one feels that Rani may attempt a suicide but Rani ends up surprising her folks by asking for a ‘permission’ to continue as per the original honeymoon plan: Go to Paris and then Amsterdam, all by herself.

When Rani starts to accept the present day’s reality, stops pitying herself and witnesses other aspects of life, the viewer tends to get a feeling that they have, in a way, fallen in love with Rani’s innocence, resilience and sangfroid attitude.

That is where the beauty of Queen lies. As the confused lass navigates to find her way into the alleys of over-populated cities, changes hotels and restaurants, boards trains, hops on for boat-rides and uses complex maps to reach touristic attractions of Paris and Amsterdam, you start to crave for a happy ending to Rani’s miserable beginning.

This is where the script-writer and the director of Queen, Vikas Behl, keeps a firm grip on the movie: he makes you empathize with Rani’s plight but without emotional brouhaha.

In one scene, Rani shares with a French friend of hers that whole of her life she has adhered to instructions of everyone, be it her father, her mother, her teacher or her finance. There isn’t a single person whose instructions she hasn’t followed. And having done nothing bad or weird all her life, she feels as if she has become like Gupta Uncle, a person who never smoked or consumed alcohol but ended up having cancer.

Rani’s struggle and pain is palpable but the narration doesn’t teeter and lets the entertainment stay on. Rani, wherever she goes, finds friends with her infectious nature.

In one of the her happier moments, Rani mentions in Hindi to a Russian guy that she has a unique sense of humor. That is what Queen boasts about. So, Rani frequents night-clubs, gets on to a huge platform and swirls her pull-over over her head but, for a disciplinarian she is, she can’t throw her sweater in mid-air. Instead, she puts it inside her handbag and continues with her gyration to the high-voltage music.

Queen is admirable with its finer details of life — English Vinglish also touched upon the same — most of times we talk to ourselves and thus the language we communicate in whether understood by the other or not, becomes irrelevant. Essentially, whenever Rani and her friends are having a seemingly bilateral conversation, it turns out that in reality they are conversing with their own self.

Queen is out and out Kangana Ranuat’s movie. The preciseness with which Kangana Ranuat executes the scene in which she attempts to cross the road is mesmerizing. Queen overflows on similar finessing sequences.

All the sidekicks (friends around Rani) bring in an unique characteristic of their own, and each of them is charismatic in their own subtle manner.

Undoubtedly, the movie is slow and is in a sense predictable but the songs, background music and unusual yet innocent streaks of Rani keep you glued on to the screen. On more than a few occasions, Queen goes the Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara way: touristic sight-seeing and the thrill associated to it, but then those wouldn’t bother one for long.

I will go with 4 out of 5 rating for Queen and I insist that you give it a shot. For if you ever cursed yourself for being the way you are, and blamed the outside world for pushing you to the wall to make you feel so, Queen has a precise yet simple pointer in store for you.