Member Reviews

“Jackie Chan could come to Malegaon,” says a young man who has had the misfortune of being born there. “But his films won’t.” The young man is Nasir, the protagonist of director Reema Kagti’s new film, Superboys of Malegaon. Played by Adarsh Gourav, Nasir is the sort of cinephile who would have been logging at least three movies a day on Letterboxd had he been born a decade later, perhaps in a metropolitan city. And as hyperbolic as his words are, there is an element of truth to them. As we speak, the German auteur Wim Wenders is touring the length and breadth of India, taking selfies with Madhabi Mukherjee and reclining on Satyajit Ray’s favourite armchair. But you could be forgiven for not remembering the last time one of his films received a theatrical release here.

A few years ago, the global cinephile community — the sort of people who compose their Letterboxd reviews even before a film has ended — was thrown headfirst into a heated debate. As far as these folks were concerned, this was a debate of presidential magnitude — the kind of debate that could make a disagreement about Marvel movies seem like a ‘kavi sammelan’ in Lucknow. The British magazine Sight & Sound, which compiles a list of the greatest films of all time every decade, had published its latest rankings. And for the first time ever, the Belgian film Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles — previously viewed as a favourite only in niche circles — had claimed the top spot, sneaking past perennial favourites such as Citizen Kane, Tokyo Story, and Vertigo.

Inviting Javed Akhtar to the premiere of Nadaaniyan, and making him sit through it — it doesn’t matter that he had a recliner to relax on — is tantamount to elder abuse. Directed by Shauna Gautam, the Netflix romantic drama singlehandedly demolishes any argument that nepotism apologists might have preemptively constructed in the run-up to its release. Ineptly put together, lacking any insight whatsoever into the human experience, Nadaaniyan is a blot on Karan Johar’s career as a film producer, and one of the most questionable originals ever produced by Netflix India — remember, this is the streamer that deemed Shirish Kunder’s Mrs Serial Killer to be worthy of sharing the same server space as Alfonso Cuaron’s Roma.

Malayalam filmmakers aren’t just pushing the boundaries of genre cinema in India, they’ve evolved to a stage where they can confidently toy with tropes. In Aattam, director Anand Ekarshi created magic within the framework of murder mysteries by unraveling the expectations that they come attached with. Ekarshi performed a deft act of cinematic misdirection, revealing that Aattam wasn’t a mystery at all, but a sharp satire of patriarchy. In Rekhachithram, director Jofin T Chacko observes the doctrines of police procedurals, pays due respect to them, and then sends the movie down an altogether unexpected path in the final 30 minutes.

Someone on social media the other day posted that each of the last 15 Best Picture winners at the Oscars could’ve been funded for the amount that Netflix spent on The Electric State, the astronomically expensive new movie from directors Joe and Anthony Russo. We’re talking about films like Oppenheimer, which itself would’ve taken up $100 million of this cash pool, leaving the remaining $220 million to be spent on landmark films such as Parasite, 12 Years a Slave, and this year’s Anora. Starring Chris Pratt and Millie Bobby Brown, The Electric State is the kind of movie that seems to get longer while you’re watching it. No matter how deep into it you are — it could be the end of the first act or the second — it always feels like there’s an hour still left. On the face of it, The Electric State isn’t a particularly long movie. It taps out at around 120 minutes, which is positively merciful of the Russos, whose first gig after the global success of the three-hour-long Avengers: Endgame was Cherry, a 141-minute drama about a drug addict who robs banks to fund his habit.

The strength of Court: State Vs a Nobody, debut director Ram Jagadeesh’s Telugu film, lies in its simple yet powerful truth —that the world would be a better place if those in power carried out their duties with sincerity. In this case, the focus is on the judiciary. Through an underdog narrative, Ram, along with co-writers Karthik and Vamsi, highlights how empathy can help deliver justice, regardless of social standing. The drama is anchored by Priyadarshi Pulikonda’s wonderfully restrained performance. The plot is straightforward. Nineteen-year-old Chandrashekhar (Harsh Roshan) falls in love with Jabili (Sridevi), 17. He is the son of a watchman, while she comes from a wealthy background. When her domineering uncle, Mangapathi (Sivaji), discovers their relationship, chaos ensues. Chandrashekhar is slapped with multiple charges, including under the POCSO Act (Protection of Children from Sexual Offences). The year is 2013, just a year after the Act was introduced.

Sometimes, the timing of a film’s release makes it special. A few years back, Inn Galiyon Main would have been dubbed dated for repeating the obvious. Today, its theme is here and now. Mostly, social values inform a film, but sometimes, a social churn leads to a creative outpouring. At a time when festivals and cricket matches have become a stick to browbeat a community, Inn Galiyon Main celebrates Holi and Eid at a space where Hanuman and Rahman Gali coalesce in Lucknow. An ode to the syncretic culture that has almost been reduced to a slur in hate-filled narratives on social media, the film exposes the divisive politics fuelled by cheap data with a poetic parable.

In 2017, Uzma Ahmed made headlines when she was rescued from her abusive Pakistani husband by the Indian High Commission officials under the supervision of the then Minister of External Affairs, Sushma Swaraj. Director Shivam Nair joins forces with actor-producer John Abraham to recreate the diplomatic maneuver from the point of view of diplomat JP Singh, who led the rescue mission to bring the Delhi girl home. However, as it turns out, it is yet another addition to the trend where filmmakers flaunt the placard of ‘based on a true story’ but develop cold feet in digging the truth of the story. It thanks the top of the ministry for support, but it is hard to take a film on diplomacy seriously that can’t differentiate between an embassy and a high commission. It is difficult to root for a nationalist narrative when the makers don’t get the designation of a former foreign minister right.

If you watch Hindi cinema for a living (or a loving), chances are you will be cursed with the Red Flag Syndrome. What is this syndrome, you ask? (You didn’t ask, but I’m telling you anyway because clunky exposition is in my DNA). Being able to identify red flags in a film — or being able to see through a story within the first few scenes — used to be a superpower. But now it’s almost a crime, like X-ray vision for perverse superheroes: you’re accused of seeing the film naked. It took me all of 30 seconds to commit this crime with Be Happy.

Co-created by star Stephen Graham and filmmaker Jack Thorne, Adolescence should become necessary viewing at schools for teachers, students, and parents. The four-part series is focused on the arrest of a 13-year-old boy, Jamie Miller (Owen Cooper), accused of stabbing his classmate fatally. The British series deftly captures how this incident affects all those around Jamie—his family, the police, his classmates, and even the psychologist assigned to the case. While the devastating story will leave you emotionally sapped at the end, Adolescence is a stark reminder of the evolving world around us where kids are forced to grow up much too fast.