Chittagong

Chittagong is disappointing. It's an honest film but fails to transcend into a good film. The biggest disadvantage that plagues a period film based on real events is the predictability of the plot. So, to make the film more engaging, the director needs to indulge in a sort of retelling of history inculcating a healthy dosage of drama into it. This is precisely where Bedabrata Pain falls short. There's no building up of drama. Watching the film is like glancing through the pages of a history book. The narrative of the film is so simple that it is reduced to a textbook of chronological historical events. Hence, although it adheres to factual fidelity, it doesn't deliver what is expected from a celluloid drama. It will be cruel to say that the film is uninspiring because it does have a lot of heart and characters do evoke a genuine sense of empathy. It's more like a ticking bomb that doesn't explode. I'm not talking about the typical Bollywood exaggerated sentimentality, but Pain's maiden effort doesn't have that soul-stirring zing in it, it's not intense or emotionally compelling enough. I love simplistic minimalism and restrained performances, but the characters somehow are nipped in the bud and deliberately not allowed to grow and evolve, especially when the director had the luxury of a casting coup comprising the likes of Manoj Bajpai, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Jaideep Ahlawat and Dibyendu Bhattacharya. He fails to exploit the brilliance of such wonderful actors at his disposal. Even the background score is so disappointing and underwhelming, completely incompatible with the elegiac undertone of the film. The editing has rough edges with loose disconnected parts. The only rewarding aspect of the film is Eric Zimmerman's breathtaking cinematography.

Barfi

It does not revolutionize Bollywood in any way nor is it an example of superlative cinematic brilliance. There are flaws, and lots of them. But, at the same time, it's a lesson in the long-lost art of simple filmmaking without being pretentious. The effort is so genuinely heartwarming that it comes out through the characters in the film. I've been extremely critical of Ranbir Kapoor in the past. Maybe he is dumb, but he sure can act! In Junior Kapoor, we do see glimpses of his grandfather. His goofiness is so bloody infectious. He does not play the sympathy-card, he just lets the film carry him along instead of trying what Bollywood heroes desperately try to do - to carry the film on their shoulders. The character is central, not the hero. One of the very few Hindi films I've seen where the audience connects with the character, and not the hero. Ileana is effortlessly sweet and quite unexpectedly brilliant. Saurabh Shukla delivers a standout and stellar performance. The strength of the film lies in the characterisation - so under-toned, and pitch-perfect to counter-balance the trappings of melodrama. The cinematography is breathtaking and so is the music. The visual imagery adds to the emotional quotient of the film. The earnestness of Anurag Basu does suffer a blow because of the predictability of the plot since the temptation of repetitiveness unwittingly underwhelms the magic created in the first half, and, of course, the disappointing performance of Priyanka Chopra. Instead of under-emoting, she overdoes it. Somehow she goes retard trying to portray an autistic girl. Don't judge this film through the prism of cerebral dissection and critical analysis. For once, listen to your heart, not the critics.

The Dark Knight Returns

The Dark Knight has risen! The storm came, roared thunderously and blew everything away! Watching the film evokes the same kind of ecstasy as that of making love. It starts with an extended foreplay, builds up slowly, escalates wildly and culminates into an explosive, intense and unrelenting orgasm. In fact, it's a thousand times better than an orgasm. It's as close as having that romanticized elevated sense of being numb close on the heels of death. When you go numb and your senses fail you, and you are transported into a world that is beautiful, heart-wrenching, dark, compelling, unreal and majestic - you know that the storm has hit you, the fire that rose has engulfed you. The best part of Nolan's Batman trilogy is that all the 3 films are distinctly different from each other. It would be unfair to compare The Dark Knight Rises with the previous two installments. Batman Begins was a Renaissance-moment, a triumphant interpretation of the caped crusader. His damaged psyche torn apart by guilt and fear - Nolan nails it with precision. And, the original treatment was so refreshing when Rachel points out that Bruce Wayne was the mask that Batman wore, not the other way round. The Dark Knight was edgier, darker, representing a world where chaos and order co-exist and complete each other; the sadistic sinisternerness of the Joker, blurring the boundaries between being amoral and being diabolical, is evidently portrayed - "What am I without you? To them, you are just a freak, like me. You complete me." It dealt more with the psychological, a duel between the Agent of Chaos and the Fallen Knight, whereas The Dark Knight Rises is much more physical. Nolan wanted it to be a spectacle, an extravagant and dazzling finale on epic proportions, and he did achieve it. It's no-holds-barred, outrageous and heart-pounding, gut-wrenching, raw action on one hand and on the other, it captures Batman's emotional vulnerabilities like never before. For the self-appointed critics - please stop comparing. Applaud and acknowledge the genius of Christoper Nolan.

Gangs of Wasseypur II

Gangs of Wasseypur II left me disappointed. Well, Kashyap is a genius and a visionary. But his self-indulgence costs the second installment dearly. It starts from where it left and immediately we are transported into the murky world of violence and vengeance. The pace is breathtakingly rapid, but the film gets weighed down by the burden of too many plot-diversions. It's like a continuous sex act desperate for an orgasm but doesn't achieve one. The build-up in Part I was more gradual that took the form of a crescendo. The narrative is a journey of cut-out frames of brilliant parts but without a stringed-together coherent whole. The once mercurial Kashyap turns somewhat whimsical as he unleashes a series of unnecessary murders in the blood-soaked saga. Although GoW II retains its visual flair, the unreal punchlines from Part I are missing, even the music doesn't provide the same kind of impetus that it did in Part I. Kashyap has killed the soul of GoW by allowing the plot to generously meander without developing the characters. Violence is unflinching and relentless, but as Rajeev Masand says - "Where is the method to the madness?" GoW II is richly benefited by stellar performances from all the actors. Richa Chadda is outstanding as the feisty matriarch, and Huma Qureshi, as the Bollywood-obsessed emotional refuge of Faizal, is extremely convincing. The characters from GoW I don't have the same meaty screen presence like they enjoyed in the earlier installment. Zeishan Qadri is the surprise package of the film in the near-flawless portrayal of Definite. He literally dazzles with his quirky humour and restlessness coupled with uncompromising ambition that he wears on his sleeves. Finally, Nawazuddin Siddiqui. Our very own Michael Corleone cements his place among the modern greats like Irrfan Khan and Kay Kay Menon with a supremely mesmerising performance. With his fearless heart filled with mad rage and thirst for vendetta, and his kaleidoscopic eyes emoting desperation and vulnerable emptiness, Bollywood has rarely seen such a superlative display of acting skills from an actor.

Jeff, Who Lives at Home

Jeff, Who Lives At Home is a beautiful film. An unconventional and unassuming comedy - a little bit quirky and at times, whimsical, yet heartwarming and funny. Jason Segel's monologue in the opening scene sets the tone of the film. There's an endearing innocence and naivety about him when he poses some intriguing questions after watching M. Night Shyamalan's Signs - what if, everything in this universe is inter-connected in some sort of way. The philosophical ramblings of a dreamy pothead man-child gives way to a series of misadventures as he embarks on a journey trying to find a certain Kevin, being convinced that his destiny is leading him to Kevin through a number of vague signs. As he pursues these signs, he bumps into his brother played by Ed Helms, who's following his wife suspecting her of having an affair with another man. Ed Helms is a revelation as a disgruntled man with a mediocre job stuck in a loveless marriage about to crumble. Their mother, played by Susan Sarandon, steals the show with a brilliant performance. The insecurities and loneliness of impending old age, the mixed emotions of exasperated dismay and moderate hopefulness when she receives messages from a 'secret admirer' are portrayed flawlessly. The unexpectedly invigorating climax brings all the central characters together after a bunch of inexplicably bewildering coincidences. Maybe the universe does have a plan for everyone!

Gangs of Wasseypur

Let me indulge in a few truisms. Yes, this is one of the greatest Hindi films of our generation and definitely Kashyap's best work after No Smoking. 'Godfather meets Park Chan Wook' will be an unfair tag, and so will be to draw parallels with Tarantino or any other global contemporaries. This magnum opus is SO Indian, and only the genius of Anurag Kashyap could deliver an uninhibited, arrogant, dark, brutal, savage, larger-than-life revenge drama, taken to dizzying heights of cinematic brilliance that induces extreme emotional orgasm. No conscience-talks, no unnecessary moralizing. The screenplay by Zeishan Quadri is a knockout as it successfully merges history with fiction, beautifully captures the socio-political fabric of rustic India with a historical commentary which provides more authenticity to the script. The humour is out-of-the-world loud and bloody brilliant, expletives galore - unabashed, unapologetic. Rajiv Ravi's camera work is the best I've seen in Indian Cinema in a long, long time and sets a benchmark difficult to emulate. Sneha Khanwalkar’s background score is a killer and the songs often add to the narrative. Now, coming to the actors - all of them deliver outstanding and stellar performances. The intensity of Jaideep Ahlawat, subtlety of Piyush Misra and flamboyance of Pankaj Tripathi are pitch perfect; the female characters sparkle amidst the male brigade with the feisty Richa Chadda and sensuous Reema Sen; Tigmanshu Dhulia makes a spectacular debut. However, everyone is overshadowed by the pothead-turned-Michael Corleone Nawazuddin Siddiqui. Manoj Bajpai is reborn. As Rajeev Masand says - "It's difficult to separate the actor from the character." With a single-minded unmitigated and unflinching determination for vengeance, his quirky humour, lecherous glances, penchant for the theatrical grandiose - he's the driving force of this film.

The Amazing Spider-Man

The Amazing Spider-Man is disappointing. Marc Webb deserves a pat on the back for trying to be original. But, the screenplay could have been much, much better. The film has its moments. Andrew Garfield is refreshing as the new Spidey. He emotes really well. Playing the loser high school science geek transformed into a wisecracking punk superhero, he more-or-less delivers. He's fun and he's cute with a boyish charm, so was Tobey Maguire. But, Maguire was way better than Garfield as far as portraying emotional vulnerabilities and insecurities is concerned. The teenage angst gives way to warm-fuzzy romance, and the chemistry actually works between him and Emma Stone unlike the exaggerated melodrama in the previous franchise. It's shot pretty well (though there's no over-the-top action sequence) and has a good soundtrack too. But somewhere, the image of Tobey Maguire with his innocent eyes emoting a deluge of emotions of amazement and pain and steely intensity lurks in your subconscious. It doesn't generate or induce that same kind of emotional connect that we had with Maguire. Hope Garfield will get better in the next Spidey flick, and sincerely pray that he does away with the irritating mannerisms of constant head-scratching, lip-licking and shivering!

Shanghai

Shanghai is flawless. This desi version of Z delves deep into the murky world of Indian political establishment and represents it through the prism of gritty, uncompromising, brutal realism. Amidst all the darkness of stark reality, the humour quotient is subtle and profound at the same time. Abhay Deol stands out - so intense yet so restrained. He's the Ryan Gosling of Bollywood. Farooq Sheikh is bloody brilliant and Pitobash is an absolute treat. Emraan Hashmi is the surprise package of the film; he discovers the actor in himself, packs a punch in an effortless manner. Prosenjit adds a touch of class with a perfect cocktail of economy of emotions and expressions, and intense glances. Kalki fails to impress though since her character doesn't come out of the one-dimensional mould of angst-ridden ranting.