Member Reviews

The trailer of Jigra promised a coup too delicious to resist: Alia Bhatt as the Angry Young (Wo)man. At one point, Manoj Pahwa tells her, “Arre, [Amitabh] Bachchan nahin banna hai. Bach ke nikalna hai.” A stone-faced Bhatt replies: “Ab toh Bachchan hi banna hai.” This exchange hides loaded meanings: reverence (Bhatt, the best Bollywood actor right now, paying tribute to the best Bollywood actor of the ’70s), inversion (a heroine playing an anti-hero), and nostalgia (a drug always in short supply). There’s a bit of serendipity, too: the movie’s release date, October 11, coincides with Bachchan’s birthday.

Satya has been running from window to window in the anteroom of a maximum security prison. She’s desperate to see her brother before closing time, but there are forms to fill, procedures to follow. Finally, she ends up at the door to the visiting area, wheezing, frantic. The guard does her a kindness, says she isn’t late and will be let in soon. Satya catches her breath, but can’t wipe the worry off. “Do I look sad?” she asks the guard as she’s about to enter. “Little sad,” he replies in Malay-accented English. She puts on a strained smile. “Now?” The guard shakes his head. “Very sad, lah.”

Vasan Bala creates worlds that may appear deceptively similar to the ones you and I inhabit but run entirely on their own terms and whimsy. It’s a part of the film-maker’s charm and cinephile influences, which made the likes of Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota and Monica O My Darling such a treat. Jigra, probably his most big-ticket project so far, is also his most sombre.

Most directors make you feel like you’re watching their film — their technical prowess, their intent, their voice, their commercial and arthouse ambitions. But directors like Vasan Bala make you feel like you’re watching their dreams come true. His movies aren’t shown, they’re shared. His craft isn’t flaunted, it’s realised. In Jigra, there are no shots, only fulfilled aspirations. There are no scenes and set pieces, only childhood memories. There is no action, only the physicality of emotion. There is no story, only the narrativisation of storytelling.

Perhaps Karan Johar, Alia Bhatt and director Vasan Bala, who co-writes with Debashish Irengbam, hope that nobody remembers Gumrah (1993), the Sanjay Dutt-Sridevi starrer which Mahesh Bhatt directed for Dharma Productions’ founder Yash Johar. In 1993, it was a besotted Sanjay Dutt who’d helped Sridevi break out of a Bangkok prison where she faced a death sentence after being framed by her boyfriend for drug trafficking. Bhatt had helped himself to the theme from the 1989 TV series Bangkok Hilton where an estranged father helps his daughter break out of a Bangkok prison in similar circumstances as Sridevi in Gumrah.

Citadel Diana is one of the many spin-offs set around the American Citadel led by Priyanka Chopra. The series explores the world of a covet organisation across the globe trying to take down the world’s most evil organisation Manticore. While Citadel carried the story more straightforward, Citadel vs Manticore, we get to see a different side in Diana. The Italian show led by Matilda De Angelis, Lorenzo Cervasio and Maurizio Lombardi explores more on the side of how things are done at Manticore. Released in Italian, with few dialogues in English, the show is expected to have a stronger opening than Citadel.

Rajkummar Rao and Triptii Dimri’s latest release Vicky Vidya Ka Woh Wala Video is a social comedy that focuses on the length of the story more than logic. With a shorter, more crisp story the film would have managed to give the very serious and important message it wishes to. The film is a cautionary tale in the 1990s but the fear is very relevant and still prevalent given the growing use of AI, instead of finding a way to incorporate the fear throughout, the story focuses a bit too much on the comedy punch lines and hopes a long monologue will make up for the rest. But it doesn’t.

Normally, one of the most frustrating things that a movie can do is to abandon its characters and become too consumed by the plot. Our mainstream cinema has always struggled with this, and things have only become worse in the streaming era. It is said that show runners, in particular, can get away with anything on digital platforms as long as there is a murder in the first episode. Well, someone most certainly dies at the end of the first act in CTRL, the new film from Vikramaditya Motwane — his first feature since AK vs AK in 2020.

You’d think that the world was a less paranoid place five years ago, when the collective trauma of the pandemic hadn’t clobbered us on the head with a comically large mallet. But remember when governments were put on high alert before the release of a comic book movie about a murderous clown? Prepared for the riots that the supposedly incendiary film might incite, teams of police were stationed outside certain screenings of Todd Phillips’ Joker — a movie that was viewed by alarmists as a sort of dog whistle for basement-dwelling incels.