Miss Lovely

Miss Lovely is an unqualified cinematic triumph. Ashim Ahluwalia's bleak and sordid tragic tale explores the squalid underbelly of Bombay's C-grade illicit exploitation industry. The audience's immersive encounter with the murky subculture of marginal misfits and notorious lowlifes gives fidelity to the grim ambience of the film as it weaves a tantalizing medley of pulp-horror and unsavoury soft porn. The sumptuous and lurid cinematography of Mohanan delves into the provocative territory of dark precincts, abandoned warehouses and labyrinthine spaces, succinctly capturing the nauseating sleaze-world of the late '80s with spectacular set designs, garish colours, retro fashion and in-vogue-disco. The tragedy unfolds like a thriller, set in motion by deceit and betrayal, propelled by unflinching violence endemic to the social milieu depicted in the film. Owing to the sluggish pace and deadpan humour in the first half, the emotionally unengaging and distant narrative style fails to gather momentum. But the second half is explosive, metamorphosing Nawazuddin's docile placidity into assertive grisliness, culminating in the climactic act of exhibitionist outburst and unhinged brutality against his devious brother. The pulsating electronic score with metallic clanking and rumbling resonance has a lazy, hypnotic feel to it, that amplifies the queasy unease of the spectators. Finally, Nawazuddin Siddiqui. His muted intensity reminds me so much of Mads Mikkelsen. The relationship between him and the camera is that of an artist and his muse, or an obsessive stalker and a vigilant stalkee. A visual symphony of minimalist seduction with his eyes and compelling addiction of his silence that consummates everything and everyone around him. Anil George holds his own with formidable display of controlled intensity, ranging from reprobate unscrupulousness to lecherous depravity.