Member Reviews

Much of our history was unknown in 1975 when Freedom At Midnight by Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins, the bestseller documenting the backstage events that led to the bloody Partition of India, was first published. In recent years, there has been such a glut of printed and visual information on what happened in 1947 that Indians are familiar with most of the Nehru-Gandhi-Patel-Jinnah parleys which director Nikkhil Advani sets out to preserve on film.

In director Dibakar Banerjee’s Tees, three generations of a Kashmiri family grapple with identity, erasure, and a desire to be heard in an ever-evolving and increasingly intolerant India. It is cruelly ironic, therefore, that the movie itself has been throttled like its characters. Originally titled Freedom, the ambitious saga has effectively been caged on a hard disk by the paranoid Netflix. But despite being denied a release by the streamer, Tees was presented in its complete form at the 13th Dharamshala International Film Festival recently, with Banerjee present to soak in the warmth that seemed to be emanating from the hundreds of pilgrims who queued up for it on a winter evening. Tees opens, rather worryingly, with a scene that wouldn’t feel out of place in Banerjee’s latest, Love Sex Aur Dhoka 2, which was more an act of self-immolation than self-expression, if we’re being honest. A computer-generated black cat walks towards us, before it is revealed to be the internet avatar of a human being looking for a connection. The year is 2042, and a young writer named Anhad Draboo (Shashank Arora) appears rattled by the rejection of his rebellious verses by an overbearing government.

Sometime last month, a Timothée Chalamet look-alike contest in New York took the internet by storm. The prize was a modest 50 dollars. Some participants were more convincing than others, but the reason this event went viral is because the real Chalamet made a surprise visit in the end to greet the winners. Ironically, he looked nothing like the men trying to ape him. The point of this anecdote — wait for it — is that the entire Indian fantasy-period-action-epic bubble these days is an expensive look-alike contest. During the interval of Kanguva, I was momentarily disoriented: was the second half of Devara: Part 1 or Kalki 2898 AD going to start playing? Would anyone even notice? These movies resemble each other in strange and amateur ways, but none of them resemble the original star, S.S. Rajamouli’s Baahubali. In fact, like Chalamet himself, Rajamouli showed up in a cameo in one of these films — and that scene alone became more popular than the mega-budget production surrounding it.

A characteristic in all of director Siva’s movies that I strongly dislike is the lack of subtlety in emotions and reactions. Everything is loud—and sometimes even louder than Boyapati Srinu’s films. But if you can look past this trait, Kanguva might just be one of the most cinematic spectacles you’ve experienced in theatres in a long time.

It’s been nearly two and a half years since Suriya had a big theatrical release. With Kanguva, Suriya and producer KE Gnanavel Raja made tall claims about the film’s success even before its release. While Gnanavel claimed that the film would rake in Rs 2,000 crore worldwide, Suriya went all out in promoting the film. But, has the film lived up to the massive expectations that the team set for themselves? Let’s find out! Kanguva’s story connects the past and present in two parallel timelines. Francis (Suriya) is a bounty hunter in 2024. He meets a child who reminds him of his past. A thousand years earlier, Kanga aka Kanguva (Suriya), a prince of the tribe, is facing one conflict after another. His village, Perumachi, is under threat from Romanians who want to conquer and rule them.

Singham Again made quite the impression with its short film for a trailer. It also led to the perception that the film won’t have much to offer after everything was revealed in the teasers and trailers. And yet the film surprises with its comedy and its Ramayan connective direction. Rohit Shetty does warn his audience and the religious critics that the film is not meant to disrespect anyone’s faith or any religion with a two-minute long disclaimer and what follows is a cameo-filled film with a run time of 144 minutes.

The show fits right into the style of Raj and DK sans the comedy, the rawness and the drama will keep you hooked for a while. Set in the 90s and early 2000s it focuses on the lack of technology and old-school espionage. Its sequences set in the 90s will remind audiences of old movies like the action remains grounded to today’s time. The makers find a good mix of old aesthetics, cinematography and modern writing for spy thrillers. The show has ups and downs, but performances like that of Kay Kay Menon will bring you back to the story.

Sometimes you get what you want, but it’s not what you need. Since 2018, Raj & DK have been on a creative streak. It began with Stree, a horror-comedy sleeper hit they wrote and produced. The following year, their first series, The Family Man, premiered on Amazon Prime; they show-ran and co-directed it over two seasons (a third is in the works). This was followed by two more shows, Farzi (on Amazon)—my favourite of their long-form work—and Guns & Gulaabs (on Netflix). With each success, the possibility that Hollywood would come calling seemed likelier.

There are some movies you just want to like before you watch them. Personal biases are an integral part of the cinema experience. For instance, I used to have a soft spot for stories that romanticised a version of myself: slice-of-life introvert tales or dysfunctional family dramas. My focus has now moved to aspirational old-people stories; perhaps it has something to do with my parents aging with all sorts of ailments. The prospect of watching Vijay 69, then, was an inviting one. Not only is it director Akshay Roy’s first film since the criminally underappreciated Meri Pyaari Bindu (2017), it stars Anupam Kher as Vijay Mathew, a 69-year-old widower who attempts to become India’s oldest triathlete. I went into the film expecting to revise my reality — of having a 71-year-old father allergic to physical fitness — for a few hours. A bit of sports thrown in can’t hurt matters. What could possibly go wrong? And what could possibly go wrong when you have to ask what could possibly go wrong?

On paper, ‘Vijay 69’ must have felt like a splendid idea. Old men dodder. They don’t go about being potty-mouthed, or making sad sex jokes. How about getting Vijay Mathew, a ripe 69, to have a vocabulary which is more foul than fair, even if he has reached grandfather status? Next, how about setting him an impossible task? Even the fittest baulk at attempting the triathlon. Why not get our elderly hero to have a dash at it? Vijay lives in a house surrounded by the memories of his dead wife, the only one who used to encourage him in his endeavours, the chief of which seems to be getting ranked in a swimming race. Everyone else, including his dearest friend Fali (Chunky Panday donning a grey wig and the broadest Parsi accent that can be mustered), thinks he’s gone bananas.