Member Reviews

इस फिल्म का बेहद कसा हुआ, तेज़ रफ्तार ट्रेलर दिखाता है कि मुंबई के एक अखबार ‘डिस्पैच’ का क्राइम रिर्पोटर जॉय बाग एक ऐसे मामले की तह तक जाने की कोशिशों में लगा है जिसमें हजारों करोड़ का घपला है और बड़े-बड़े लोग शामिल हैं। ज़ाहिर है कि इतना सब है तो खतरे भी बड़े हैं। जॉय बाग कर पाएगा इस काम को? कैसे करेगा वह इसे?

एक टेक्नॉलजी को जी-जान से चाहने वाली अंबाला की मिडल क्लास लड़की डिंपल आहूजा (प्राजक्ता कोली) और एक टूटकर प्यार करने वाला जयपुर के रजवाड़े घराने का सच्चा आशिक ऋषि सिंह शेखावत (रोहित सराफ), यानी एक बिल्कुल ही मिसमैच्ड जोड़ी और जब ये दोनों मिलते हैं, तो क्या होता है यही कहानी है वेब सीरीज ‘मिसमैच्ड’ की। लेखिका संध्या मेनन की किताब ह्वेन डिंपल मेट ऋषि पर आधारित इस सीरीज के दो सीजन पहले ही आ चुके हैं और युवा दर्शकों के बीच डिंपल और ऋषि यानी प्राजक्ता कोली और रोहित सराफ की जोड़ी पहले ही काफी पसंद की जा चुकी है। उनकी केमिस्ट्री तीसरे सीजन में भी सुहाती है, मगर कहानी के मामले में सीरीज बेहद कमजोर और सतही साबित होती है।

There are two important meet-cutes in director N Rajasekhar’s third film, Miss You. One is when aspiring filmmaker Vasu (an effective Siddharth) looks at Subbulakshmi (a terrific Ashika Ranganath) during a protest for the right to wear a hijab. One is when aspiring filmmaker Vasu looks at Subbulakshmi acting all cutesy during a wedding event of a common friend. Both are template scenes that we have gotten used to seeing in innumerable Tamil films. It is a commentary on how our heroes fall in love with heroines only if they are either bold and confident or bubbly and cute. What about the women who are neither bold nor confident, neither bubbly nor cute? That’s exactly what Miss You wanted to talk about, but it has one big problem. Contrary to the film’s protagonist who wanted to tell a love story from the perspective of a woman, Miss You is firmly from the POV of the man.

There’s a tiny, two-minute stretch towards the end of the cloyingly sentimental Miss You, when we finally get a semblance of an idea that’s actually worth one’s time. Until then, Miss You is about Vasu (Siddharth), a man who cannot remember two years of his life, including his unhappy marriage. But as the film resolves Vasu’s battle with amnesia (albeit conveniently), he gets a call from a movie producer who approves of a script he had narrated a year ago. He’s been through so much during this period that he no longer remembers what he pitched and begins to frantically look for the forgotten idea. Getting a project greenlit, as we all know, is so close to impossible that we quickly sympathise with Vasu. Imagine looking through all your notes to piece together a script you’ve forgotten. Imagine having to trace your steps to go through the emotional and creative journey that made you a writer in the first place. Like learning to play the violin again, or trying to remember the recipe to your signature dish, there’s so much one can do with the concept of a man with amnesia. But Miss You is entirely satisfied chasing the one aspect of it that every single film before this has already addressed…love.

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.

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.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” warn half-a-dozen faces – an assortment of builders, cops, politicians, media colleagues. Similarly, be warned, you don’t know what you’re getting into, if you switch on writer-director Kanu Behl’s ‘thriller’. Loosely patterned on the daylight murder of real-life investigative reporter J Dey of Mid-day in 2011, Behl and co-writer Ishani Banerjee manage so much incoherence that the only takeaway is of a man flawed by contrasts.

In our autograph books way back in school, a favourite verse was, “East is East, West is West. When they meet, it’s the best.” Bandish Bandits makes the same point, embellishing it with blended, mood-elevating music. There’s usually an ambience-fatigue when a fresh premise goes into a second season and struggles to say something new. Kota Factory, Mirzapur, Undekhi and Aarya are prime examples of ambience-fatigue.