Jails are a world of their own making and ‘a law unto themselves’. Time and again, we have been reminded that prisons not only house hardened criminals, but are hubs of crime too. We have often seen the murky life inside prisons through the eyes of the prisoners. But a jailer’s unflinching point of view, listing systemic lapses, is not an everyday insight. Trust filmmaker Vikramaditya Motwane to not only tread a new path each time, but also come out trumps. After wowing us with his period series ‘Jubilee’, now in association with Applause Entertainment and co-creator Satyanshu Singh, he turns his attention to Tihar jail. It’s certainly not a happy place, neither for the inmates, nor for those who try to run it. Since the source material is the book ‘Black Warrant: Confessions of a Tihar Jailer’, written by Sunetra Choudhury and the former superintendent of Tihar Jail Sunil Gupta, for most parts the intense narrative rings true.

Her father died nearly 11 years ago. About the same time, her fiance disappeared from her life and it seems from the face of the earth. And she is no ordinary woman but the dogged Detective Inspector Kat Donovan. Could the plot get thicker? Yes it does, often too thick. Indeed, the story unfolds with much intrigue if not cutting-edge tension. Kat, played by Rosalind Eleazar, is in charge of tracing missing persons. Why she has not cared to find out where her boyfriend vanished is as baffling as his sudden popping up on a dating site. Instead, she seeks the help of her friend, private investigator Stacey Embalo (Jessica Plummer), to track him down, actually do half her jobs, including finding her way into a prison hospital. Stacey’s job otherwise is to nail cheating husbands and wives. Amidst fishing in the woes of failing marriages, she plays agony aunt to Kat and directs her to a dating app.

‘Baby John’ has all the trappings of a mass entertainer, having been produced by Atlee, the record-maker ‘Jawan’ director whose remake of Tamil film ‘Their’ it is. Headlined by a fairly bankable star, Varun Dhawan, who can certainly act, he does try to energise the proceedings. South Indian sensation Keerthy Suresh is making her Bollywood debut and yesterday’s ‘Hero’ Jackie Shroff plays the vilest of vile badman. On the side is the beautiful and talented Wamiqa Gabbi.

At best, documentaries on celebrities tend to be an ode to their stardom; at worst, these end up as an exercise in image makeover for those who have fallen from grace. Rare is a documentary, especially of a living person, that dares to look truth in the eye and provides a balanced, insightful account. Is Sikhya entertainment’s Netflix film that endeavour? Maybe yes, maybe no, but while documenting the story of Punjabi singer Yo Yo Honey Singh, who has seen both dizzying heights of fame and the lows of infamy, director Mozez Singh does address the elephant in Honey’s life from the word go.

When ‘Bandish Bandits’ streamed on Prime Video in 2020, it was a breath of fresh air wrapped in melody and a master class in classical music. As it enters the second season, there is good news and a bit of bad news. First the downside: what it did not succumb to in the first season, it has done so in the second outing and turned into an ‘Indian Idol’ of sorts. Here, the major part of the series is devoted to the India Band Championship. Of course, on the sunny side, it is still an ode to music, now of various hues, and the master class continues. You will still learn more than a thing or two about ragas. Only, this time, we get to hear and see the exponents of contemporary music too.

It opens on a Japanese port with a clever twist to the famous song ‘Mera joota hai Japani’, giving a miss to the second line that talks of the country, now an aggressor. But the aggression in the film is a given. What follows is a high-on-adrenaline action sequence almost like a climactic scene. So, where can Pushpa go from such a strong build-up? Well, back to where it began, right to Pushpa’s childhood and the indignities he suffered due to his illegitimate bearings.

Heist dramas can be a lot of fun as National Award-winning director Neeraj Pandey proved with his ‘Special 26’. Based on a real life crime of 1987, it remains one of cinephiles’ favourite films on the subject. Only, as Pandey once again wields the directorial baton for a heist film, as promised by him, ‘Sikandar Ka…’ isn’t anything like ‘Special 26’. We can’t say for sure whether that is a good thing or bad, only we don’t expect a director of Pandey’s calibre to repeat himself.

Unrequited love in the Devdas mould is often the go-to subject of Indian cinema, and now it seems in Punjabi movies too. When singer-actor Parmish Verma picks up the directorial baton and wears the producer’s hat as well for his latest film, Tabaah, you know what to expect. The title of the film literally translates to devastation, ruin or destruction, and the opening scenes establish our hero, Verma himself, in self-destruct mode. Like good-old Devdas, pining for his beloved, he is drinking himself to death. At the very start of the film, the poetic lines by novelist Kristin Hannah establish the tragic mood of the film. Taken from her novel The Nightingale (2015), it goes: “Some stories don’t have happy endings. Even love stories. Maybe especially love stories.” Clearly, it’s a love story gone sour. Why? Here, the writer, Gurjind Maan, deserves credit. He has not created any archetype villain in this love story. No family rivalry, no class divide and no parental interference either. Amber’s father (Kanwaljit Singh) is as supportive and caring as fathers are meant to be. So, why has it not ended happily ever after for our hero, Amber, and heroine, Raavi, played by the lovely Wamiqa Gabbi?

Beyond religious divides, cross-border love is not new to Hindi or Punjabi cinema. Back in 1999, the National Award-winning Shaheed-e-Mohabbat Boota Singh was set in the backdrop of the Partition. So, can the controversy of Shahkot being pro-Pakistan — which also follows a theme similar to Shaheed-e-Mohabbat Boota Singh — be put to rest? However, haters will be haters, and the detractors who whipped up a storm before Shahkot’s release might continue to spew venom. Only as popular singer Guru Randhawa makes his acting debut in Pollywood, his launch vehicle steadfastly refrains from hatemongering or demonising Pakistan and Pakistanis. The period the film refers to is uncertain — mobile phones are not yet in vogue, and the relationship between India and Pakistan is not hunky-dory. But, for this detail, the timeline does seem contemporary, yet quite in sync with the milieu of Pakistan it cares to depict. Director of Photography Vineet Malhotra, rises to the occasion and captures the time aesthetically.

Watching a Punjabi film, let alone reviewing it, even for a diehard Punjabi, comes with its own set of misgivings. Sadly enough, as we sit through Sucha Soorma — touted as famous singer-actor Babbu Maan’s comeback film after a gap of four years — doubts turn into a deep, gnawing realisation about said misgivings and a discomfiting feeling. It’s near impossible to rationalise why we are making such films in this day and age, which do not reflect upon the changing matrix of our society; or if they do, god help us. Undoubtedly, this Amitoj Maan directorial is a period film set sometime during the British rule in India, in the early 20th century, even though the only date definitively stated in the film is the year in which the hero, Sucha Soorma (Babbu Maan), was hanged. The very first scene deludes you to believe that here, perhaps, was a warrior who stood up for the downtrodden.