Early in Fateh when a strapping Sonu Sood, dressed in a sharp black suit, enters a large room full of cocky goons, he is told that there is no space for him inside. The 120-minute bloodbath becomes a metaphor for the struggle of the sincere actor to carve a niche for himself as a solo hero. Sonu has a booming voice and a body to own the big screen. However, in a bid to flex his muscles and serve his off-screen image of a saviour (during the pandemic), Sonu, who trebles as an actor, producer, and director, has bitten more than he can chew. Cinematographer Vincenzo Condorelli and action directors Lee Whittaker and RP Yadav combine to create the right pitch for a visceral action drama. But after promising to take forward the renewed interest in the classic action genre, on the lines of Animal and Kill, the adults-only film falls into a painful pattern where the plot refuses to thicken and emotions don’t swell enough to turn the theatre into a slaughterhouse.

In Indian tradition, fire alludes to love and conflict, devotion and anger, eternality and death. The ever-youthful element that demands sacrifice plays the central character in director Rahul Dholakia’s ode to the unstinting spirit of the firefighters. Capturing a daze’s multiple faces and colours, Dholakia removes the smokescreen that covers the firefighters’ work and opens a window into the lives of those who keep us out of its fury but whose services are not duly acknowledged by the system and society. The action takes us into the heart of the evacuation process, the drama unravels the sacrifices firefighters make and the thriller elements seek to find the answer to the source of the firestorm.

Those who have experienced Titli and Agra would vouch that Kanu Behl’s cinema is not easy to watch. Always reflecting dark shades of everyday reality, the filmmaker has this knack for scratching the soul of his desperate characters struggling to cling to their little power structures and, in the process, leaves impressions on the conscience of the audience.

Neeraj Pandey has a knack for plucking stories from crime pages and turning them into dramatic thrillers that carry the flavour of pulp fiction sold on stalls at railway stations. Like his much loved Special 26(2013), Sikandar Ka Muqaddar exudes energy and purpose as it lays out a puzzle for us. The title is inspired by Manmohan Desai’s crime drama Muqaddar Ka Sikandar (1978). Some of the leaps of faith that Neeraj takes could indeed have piqued the interest of Desai whose cine universe was rooted in Kismat (1968) and Naseeb (1981) but today they come across as nothing more than a well-meant tribute to the master.

One day, a foul-mouthed man on the cusp of 70 realises that he doesn’t have any achievement in his lifelog that will keep him alive for posterity. A national-level swimmer who didn’t strive enough to change the colour of his bronze medal, Vijay Mathew (Anupam Kher) is an ordinary old man seeking a sliver of gold dust. Having lost his supportive wife to cancer, he is withering from the inside and appears grumpy from the outside. Still, he hasn’t given up on the magic of life and doesn’t want those around him to undermine his leap of faith when an opportunity presents itself. Vijay decides to participate in a tough triathlon contest to make it to record books and give something back to his friends who stood by him.

Someone who loves exploring the intricate relationship between bodily functions and life’s larger purpose, after Piku and October, director Shoojit Sircar turns to a real-life cancer survivor to tell a middling tale of resilience and reform. A hot-shot marketing man, Arjun Sen’s (Abhishek Bachchan) career comes to a sudden halt when he is diagnosed with multiple malignancies. After initial bouts of denial, he doesn’t surrender to fate, refuses to become a statistic, and enlists himself in a long-drawn battle with the disease. Soon, we discover his relationships are not in the best of health either. At work, he is a cut-throat. At home, he is divorced and has a daughter (Pearle Dey/Ahilya Bamroo) to raise who suspects him of indulging in some sort of drama to evoke empathy. In the hospital, he comes up with diagrams and googled information lest his doctor (Jayant Kriplani) take him for a ride.

Once a purveyor of Bollywood entertainment, director Nikkhil Advani of late is exploring drama surrounding real, epochal events – life-altering situations where the decisions are not made based on right and wrong, but on the pretext of consequences. A slippery ground to navigate, he got it right in Mumbai Diaries set against 26/11 terror attacks in the metropolis and doesn’t disappoint in Freedom At Midnight either.

In the festive season, director Anees Bazmee tells cinegoers to bring in the popcorn and he would deliver the comic twists. This Deepavali, the director lights up a green cracker that leaves a purple patch in the air but in a bid to be progressive, he fails to keep his traditional comedic pot on the boil and underutilises powerhouse performers like Madhuri Dixit and Vidya Balan to light up the screen.

For a long time, one believed that a compelling cinematic narrative shows more than it tells, and expresses more than it explains. However, the recent content spurt on OTT platforms seems bent on cerebrating the opposite. Do Patti is yet another addition to the long list of films that skip theatres for a streaming service. It reduces the art of storytelling to a mere artifice for meaningful cinema. These films end up delivering the message but little else.

Coming from a background in writing low-brow comedy skits for television, director Raaj Shaandilyaa has this knack for creating funny characters rooted in mofussil towns that generate mirth by engaging in rollicking repartees. His broad humour emanates from deep observation and understanding of the cultural mores of a conservative society coming to terms with socio-economic liberalisation in the 1990s. However, Shaandilya’s skill to combine the comic sketches into a wholesome screenplay is still a work in progress, resulting in a disappointing outcome.