Member Reviews

‘The child is father of the man…’ Whatever William Wordsworth may have meant by that poetic expression, sons and fathers are as inextricably linked as a mother’s umbilical connection binds her to her children. Yet, fathers and sons are always on a tricky terrain, invariably perched on delicate ground, rarely common. “Is he an adult or a child?” — the question pops up from a perplexed son finding it difficult to get a grasp of his father’s whimsical ways. “He is your father, you are the child,” comes the honest reply from his girlfriend. Boman Irani, who has proved his mettle as an actor more than once, now comes with his directorial debut, ‘The Mehta Boys’, where he brings out the tensions immanent in a father-son relationship in the same nuanced manner which has marked his acting. After winning the Best Feature Film award at the Chicago South Asian Film Festival, the film is currently streaming on Prime Video, and is as much about the father-son conflict as it is about love and affection.

Boman Irani began acting in films in his 40s. From the start, it seemed like he’d always been there. He was a throwback to an earlier era of actors like Charles Laughton and Alex Guiness who were happy to disappear behind a wig, a fake nose, an accent. Irani could, of course, play it straight, like the father in Lakshya. But no one was better at going broad. His Khurana in Khosla Ka Ghosla and Asthana in Munnabhai M.B.B.S. are legend, but there’s a spectacular rogue’s gallery stretching from Darna Mana Hai to Don, Well Done Abba to Honeymoon Travels Pvt. Ltd to Jayeshbhai Jordaar. Irani stars in The Mehta Boys and does a fine, fussy, fretful job. It’s also his first film as director, co-written with Alexander Dinelaris (Birdman) and co-produced by his company, Irani Movietone. It’s a polite little film about a recently bereaved family, emotionally available, a bit shapeless. Not all directors start with a big swing, but this is closer to forward defence.

Some films focus less on plot and more on character-driven narratives. Thandel, the Telugu film directed by Chandoo Mondeti, is a prime example. Based on true incidents from a few years ago, in which fishermen from Andhra Pradesh unknowingly crossed international waters into Pakistan, the film weaves a love story that transcends all odds. The storyline, penned by Karthik Theeda, is straightforward, but Chandoo’s screenplay immerses viewers in the world of the fisherfolk, with an emotionally stirring romance — between Raju (Naga Chaitanya) and Satya (Sai Pallavi) — at its core. The poignant love story comes alive through the lead actors’ performances, complemented by Devi Sri Prasad’s evocative music, which serves as the film’s emotional anchor. But is that enough to overlook the weaker, more turbulent portions? Almost.

It’s the 90s world of Rajshri. A mansion. A joint family. A starchy patriarch/matriarch whose word is writ, everybody else shivers, cowers before the family dictator. Karan Johar put Amitabh Bachchan in that stern position in K3G and reversed the gender to give Jaya Bachchan the same unbending top place in Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani. Step into the sprawling mansion of the Rathi parivar in Ratlam where Taoji (Kanwaljit Singh) is the stiff principled head of a large joint family. Like Karan Johar’s joint family in RARKPK, the Rathis too are renowned for their famous mithai. But Taoji’s rules are anything but meetha. More than four decades ago, there was a film called Ek Hi Bhool (1981). Those same 80s sentiments and ambience may be transplanted into the Rathi mansion and labelled, Ek Hi Jhooth. Taoji can never forgive a lie. His sister (Anjana Sukhani) is still paying the price for having fallen in love with someone outside their community. ‘It wasn’t about the community, it was her lying about it that Taoji cannot forgive,’ is underlined a couple of times. And in that claustrophobically tradition-bound ambience, the family is eternally grateful to Fufaji (Rajesh Tailang) who did them all a big favour for saving their reputation and marrying the tainted sister, now referred to as “Bua”.

Self-assured is one thing that actor Boman Irani’s directorial debut, The Mehta Boys, definitely is. It is a refreshingly unpretentious father-son drama that neither strives for gratuitous pace nor looks for pronounced complexity and yet manages to be not only thought-provoking but also emotionally involving. The director is also the lead actor and co-producer of the Amazon Prime Video film but he clearly isn’t weighed down by the workload. He maintains a firm grip on a narrative centred on a 71-year-old Navsari-based man coming off the demise of his wife and his fraught relationship with his only son, an architect who flew the coop a decade ago in pursuit of a career in Mumbai. The Mehta Boys, scripted by Boman Irani and Oscar-winning screenwriter Alexander Dinelaris (Birdman), isn’t crammed with high drama, surprise twists and radical themes. It has its share of emotive highs and performative crescendos but that does not deflect it off its clean, even and realistic arc.

The title of the film whimsically fuses two words from two languages - love and siyappa - to convey what it is about - a wild and wacky scenario in which unbridled, unending chaos caused by secret online entanglements sends a steady romantic liaison between two Delhi youngsters into a maddening tailspin. Loveyapa is uneven but fun, frothy but anything but pointless. It isn’t all empty talk and texting. It isn’t just words that crash into each other in Loveyapa. Two worlds and impulses - virtual and real, East and West Delhi, and male proclivities and female instincts - are posited against each other in the film. The busy crisscrossing creates its share of problems for the characters as well as the film’s makers. Eventually, for the latter, it does not go out of hand.

In Chandoo Mondeti’s Thandel, distance makes romance sing harder before it combusts into a residue of tears. Raju (Naga Chaitanya) and Satya (Sai Pallavi) have been together since childhood and now their love blossoms through the stray mobile tower. Raju is a seafarer, a fisherman who works the waters around Gujarat while Satya in Srikakulam looks longingly at her mobile phone to hear a syllable in his voice. He holds the phone aloft and so does she at home. He, with ocean on all sides and, she, on land but not far from the beach. We see a fisherfolk community that toils in the waters, the men away for long and the women waiting and working at home. We know that this frequent separation will not end well and as expected, Thandel doesn’t hold its cards too close to its chest. It presents everything without a facade. Raju is our regular Telugu film hero, and this is as mainstream as it gets so he is introduced romancing and fighting at the same time. The first half coasts along and nothing really happens for much of Thandel’s runtime. Physical distance gives way to emotional distance between the lovers but the way the film narrativises these events is toothless. The film places itself in melodramatic territory, the star-crossed lovers’ separation is the whole point, but the writing is flat and we never feel for any of these people. Apart from Sai Pallavi, everyone and everything is artificial including the filmmaking. It is probably forgivable to use a green screen for scenes atop a lighthouse, but Satya is staged in front of what looks like a green screen even for a scene on the terrace of her tiny dwelling. The film looks cheap and when even basic scenes are given this little attention then what to make of stormy seas where there are both fights as well as lifesaving action.

Is he an adult? Is he a child? He is your father. In his first directorial venture, Boman Irani renders a keenly observed, lived experience of an urban Indian family as he finds the simple answer to the tricky question. The tension between father and son never goes out of fashion in creative space, but the expression often tilts towards one generation or the other. Boman and co-writer Alexander Dinelaris (of Birdman fame) walk the rope in this tender exploration of a jagged relationship that leaves a sobering impact. Rich in detail, redolent with melancholy, and peppered with meaningful motifs, the film caresses a raw nerve. The duo generates a dialogue between two generations without getting pedantic, without losing sight of the plot. A charming, emerging architect struggling to find his voice in the boardroom, Amay (Avinash Tiwary) returns home after the sudden demise of his mother to see his grieving father Shiv (Boman) wilt. Though grappling with loss, Shiv doesn’t seek his son’s shoulder to cry. Amay doesn’t offer it either. Like most Indian families, the two share a silent relationship that appears strained from the outside. His sister Ana (Shikha Sarup) is the link connecting the two. She wants to take her father to the US. But is the father ready to make the emotional shift? She bribes him with his favourite meal, but Shiv sees through the design.

It takes off on a merry note. There’s a request made to the audience (in Aamir Khan’s voice) about mobile phones: do not exchange yours with anybody else. It sets the tone for freshness. Spanking new content, young first-timers in the lead, parental scoldings you haven’t heard before and sometimes, chaotic humour. These are the four elements that make writer-director Advait Chandan’s conventionally labelled ‘romantic comedy’ unconventional. It’s new age all through. Buying a new phone, payment by phone. Constant chats. They know each other’s friends, families and house layout even before stepping into each other’s domains. “Baani boo, I can’t hear you.” “Gucci, awaaz nahi aa rahi hai.” Lovebirds Baani Sharma (Khushi Kapoor) and Gaurav Sachdeva (Junaid Khan) can’t hear each other clearly, he climbing the water tank to get a connection, she raising her voice at home.