Shobdo

Mixed emotions after watching Shobdo. The film had so much potential and promise - a sort of experimentation in an unexplored domain of Indian Cinema. Sadly enough, it ends up being an educational telefilm. Kaushik Ganguly plays it too safe; he does not go beyond the uniqueness of the story and push the boundaries of conventionality like other celebrated maverick filmmakers would have done. Technically, the film is near-flawless. The sound designer duo of Anirban Sengupta and Dipankar Chaki create an ambiance of surreal magic. Mainak Bhoumik's editing deserves a special mention too. The camera work of Sirsha Ray is spectacular in some scenes, especially the haunting dreamscape where Ritwik is confronted by Victor, which is so European in its treatment. The acting is a huge let-down. Victor Banerjee is completely wasted. Ritwik is quite impressive as long as he keeps his mouth shut, in fact his blank stares and maniacal intensity with the sound-props are his only redemptive qualities in the film. Raima Sen seems to be watching Ekta Kapoor serials too intently these days. Churni Ganguly can boast of being the only actor to outdo Nana Patekar when it comes to mannerisms. The dialogues are extremely amateurish and do not have that killer punch. The screenplay is static with the story progressing in a repetitive loop. And, the climax is so abrupt and out-of-sync, almost like a fake orgasm.

Kai Po Che

Kai Po Che is a winner all the way. Meticulously crafted, it's neither a spellbinding celluloid marvel nor a half-baked Bollywood potboiler. The story of friendship, heartbreak and redemption through a stormy ride of betrayal by fate and history transforms Chetan Bhagat's mediocre work into an honest and heartwarming crowd-pleaser. The three towering aspects of the film are - the casting, cinematography and music. Anay Goswami does a terrific job with the camera. Amit Trivedi, yet again, vindicates his position as the most consistent and bankable music director in the industry. If A.R.Rahman is the Sachin Tendulkar of Bollywood, Amit Trivedi surely is Michael Clarke. Sushant Singh Rajput delivers a stellar performance as Ishan who is mercurial and temperamental, infectiously warm and gullible, trapped in a bubble of naivety. Amit Sadh as Omi is a knockout too, bringing out the complex nuances of his character with a steady transformation from unwavering loyalty towards his friends to a gradual, stuttering descent into murkiness. But, Raj Kumar Yadav as Govind, eclipses his other two equally brilliant co-stars. Ambitious and miserly, hesitant and calculative, yet a quiet intensity amidst the incoherent traits of minimalism adds many shades to his character, and he plays out his role with mathematical precision, complementing and acting as a perfect foil to Ishan's volatility and Omi's vulnerability. With GoW, Nawazuddin Siddiqui has taken the elevator-route to capture the imagination of cinephiles and critics. LSD, Shaitan, Shahid and Kai Po Che - Raj Kumar Yadav prefers a ladder instead, taking slow and assured steps to the rightful place where he belongs.

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!