Member Reviews

With WandaVision, creator Jac Schaeffer made it clear that she wasn’t interested in the standard approach to superhero fare. For most of its running, the Marvel TV show’s exploration of Wanda Maximoff’s grief over the loss of her partner Vision took the form of a sitcom spoof, one that barrelled through decades of the format—from black-and-white 4:3 aspect ratio to the meta recasting and costume choices—in an episodic fashion. Sure, Schaeffer struggled to usher her non-standard superhero show away from the climactic final-third tropes of the genre. But there was still a lot of fun to be had in WandaVision. It was the perfect possible start for Marvel’s new television-heavy era on Disney+ (though what has come after has been more miss than hit).

Love, Sitara begins with a nod to Anna Karenina: “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” says Sitara (Sobhita Dhulipala). Unlike Leo Tolstoy’s great novel — whose opening line these words are — the writing in Vandana Kataria’s film isn’t as quotable, though it tries hard. You can assemble a slim volume of pithy self-help slogans from Abbas and Hussain Dalal’s dialogue: “Happiness lies in honesty.” “Dysfunction means they are making an effort.” “I’ll fix myself, before I can fix my relationships.”

Movies can shape us in silly but significant ways. Growing up in the 1990s, for instance, I developed an irrational and premature fear of foreign travel. This had little to do with any growing awareness of geopolitical realities and everything to do with a schlocky Bollywood film starring Sridevi and Sanjay Dutt. Directed by Mahesh Bhatt, Gumrah (1993) — a jailbreak drama set between Mumbai and Hong Kong — was shivery B-movie fun, and it left me with an enduring anxiety. If I clutched my cabin luggage a little too cautiously on my first international flight, nervously looking over my shoulders, I had Bhatt and the duplicitous face of Rahul Roy to thank.

Zindaginama tackles a set of mental health issues through six episodes, targeting a different one each time. What happens when a human begins believing in an alt reality? Purple Duniya’s protagonist, a terrific Tanmay Dhanania, sets out ostensibly to go to work, like regular folks do. But that’s all a sham. His total focus lies in the game he plays obsessively, constantly, forgetting to eat or drink. Or communicate with his sister. Therapy can help, but to what extent? And who wins finally, man or machine? Sahaan Hattangadi writes, and co-directs with Danny Mamik.

भारत से अमीर परिवार के दो लड़के एक बिज़नेस ट्रिप पर एक छोटे-से देश में गए हैं। वहां एक लड़के की जेब से ड्रग्स मिलती है और इल्ज़ाम दूसरे लड़के पर आ जाता है। उस देश में इस अपराध की एक ही सज़ा है-मौत। लेकिन उस लड़के की बहन आ पहुंची है उसे बचाने। कानून का सहारा उसके काम नहीं आता तो वह जेल तोड़ने का इरादा कर लेती है। तोड़ पाती है वह जेल? बचा पाती है अपने भाई को? कैसे करेगी वह इतना बड़ा काम?

Drawing inspiration from Dharma Productions’ own film Gumraah (1993), which was itself influenced by the miniseries Bangkok Hilton (1989), Jigra features Alia Bhatt in the lead role of a prison-break drama. The original source material was not particularly strong; in the earlier film, Sanjay Dutt portrayed a hero rescuing his beloved Sri Devi from a Hong Kong prison, whereas in this adaptation, the narrative shifts to a brother-sister dynamic where the sister must save her brother.

The year is 1997. The setting is Rishikesh. It’s a time just before mobile phones, when DVDs were still predominant. Writer-director Raaj Shaandilyaa’s film opens with a shoddily executed computer graphic of a train hurtling towards a forlorn man on the tracks. This is the eponymous Vicky, played by Rajkummar Rao. It’s much like Rao’s year which has been speeding along strongly, but will eventually have to come to a halt. Unfortunately, the Rao train has been derailed by this most unintelligible 152-minute-long romantic comedy that is built around a slim plot line.

The clock’s ticking for Satya (Alia Bhatt) in Vasan Bala’s Jigra. Her brother Ankur (Vedang Raina) is on death row in an island nation called Hanshi Dao (a fictitious version of Singapore), and she’s just gotten news that the date of his execution has been expedited for an attempted jailbreak. What was supposed to happen in a few weeks, will now happen in a few days. We see her face computing all possible ploys as fast as she can, and then deciding on a plan of action. It’s not going to be pretty, an accomplice warns, but she’s already made up her mind. The accomplice backs out, telling Satya that she’ll be on her own. “I never said I was a hero. I’ll understand if you don’t wish to join me,” she says, “but don’t get in my way.”

The best part of Black is how it reels you in right in the first ten minutes. The film starts in 1964. There is a couple eloping with the help of a friend (Vivek Prasanna). It is raining like crazy. Their journey is briefly interrupted by a vehicle in the ditch. This vehicle carries a marble statue of a guardian angel. There is thunder and lightning. Soon enough, this friend, who has sinister intentions, hears two gunshots. He rushes in to ask the couple what happened? Cut to black. Literally. The title credits pop up, and we are in 2024.