Some Thought on Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya...

 Bollywood doesn't have a good sci-fi tradition. In fact, all the memorable and successful sci-fi movies that have come out of Bollywood can be counted on ones finger. Off the top of my head there's Mr X in Bombay (invisibility formula), Mr India (invisibility device), Kkrish (superhero and alien technology) and maybe more. Rajnikant's Robot was not actually Bollywood so it doesn't count.

So, after a long time when a new sci-fi movie from Bollywood was set to hit the screens, I was intrigued. The premise also seemed topical, as it looked like it dealt with robotics and artificial intelligence.

The paucity of sci-fi as a genre in Bollywood has meant that there are no tropes to fall back on. The genre is ripe for setting tropes which future Bollywood movies can follow. Mr India did it brilliantly by explaining away the science behind it in a few dialogues by Ashok Kumar and later setting up what could be done by such a premise in the ensuing hijinks. Kkrish too set up the template for Indian superheroes. While Shenshah had done it earlier, the movies managed to update it. Which brings me to the move in question: Teri Baaton Mein Aisa Uljha Jiya (TBMAUJ).

Going into the movie, I was aware what to expect, what with the trailers not bothering to build any expectations. The movies is based on a flimsy premise and an even flimsier story.

Shahid Kapoor as the brilliant robotics engineer with no time for love seem to be chanelling his Kabir Singh persona to portray an unconventional and free male. His family consisting of many forgettable characters (including, surprisingly, Dharamendra!) want him to get married, but Shahid just wants to be free and do whatever he is doing, which is not much.

Kriti Sanon as Sifra the robot is required to be expressionless, which she does admirably. Her Sifra is emotionless but that does not mean she is inept. But she is let down be ho her character is written. The super-intelligent robot that can master everything fast can is a simpleton most of the times, not able to grasp the nuances of language. 

Since sci-fi does not have established tropes in Bollywood, TBMAUJ chooses not to establish  new ones itself. Instead it chooses to walk the path of 90s comedies movies and family dramas. Watching all the hijinks on screen I had a feeling of deja vu as most jokes seemed to be a variation of earlier jokes. That and the supporting characters having been 90s and early 2000 staples nearly convinced me that I was watching an old film instead of a new release. In fact, the movie's title track was also an indi-pop hit in early 90s!

The premise of a human, that too the brightest robotics engineer, falling for a robot is fantastic as it is. But the movie does not explore this premise. Instead it moves on to an even more fantastic premise, where the bright robotics engineer attempts to con the extended family into marrying the robot, the family being none the wiser. I can say with confidence that a person that is fooled into falling for a robot is not bright, whether a robotics engineer or not. Period.

All in all, TBMAUJ tries to entertain by basing itself on an unbelievable premise. But the film's reliance on 90s and early 2000s entertainment tropes makes it seem like a nostalgic trip instead.

Some Thoughts on Merry Christmas

 I watched Merry Christmas a month ago, so what I write down are not some fresh opinions, but well weighted considerations.

I only heard about Merry Christmas the movie just a few days prior to its release. The marketing of the movie was non-existent, and unless one followed any of the persons associated to the movie on social media (I do not), its easy to miss.

On the whole Merry Christmas seems a series of misdirections strung together. To a person used to the current Bollywood fare, the story may seem to meander and drag, searching for a  plot to develop. But all the slow pace of the first half pays off handsomely in the second half, as the actions become more apparent.

The plot seems simple enough: Vijay Sethupathi, on his first night upon releasing from prison, meets Katrina Kaif, whos date runs out on her after discovering that she has a daughter. Two lonely souls connect on a Christmas night. Things take a turn for the worse when Katrin's husband is found dead, apparently having shot himself. Vijay's reluctance to be involved in any police procedural, even if it is a straight case of suicide, results in him witnessing the same events occur before him, though with someone else (Sanjay Kapoor) doing what Vijay did earlier. The plot thickens, and as the mystery unfolds, the viewer is rewarded with 'ooh' moments galore. All that the audience saw earlier was not just story development, it was the story itself.

The roller-coaster of character development keeps the viewer guessing about their true motivations. Why was Katrina looking for a date on a Christmas night daughter in tow? What crime did Vijay Setupathi commit? Is Sanjay Kapoor just a creep who wants to score on a lonely woman? How much did Luke Kenny charge for his role?

The movie does a good job of setting up a noir look; Mumbai noir is enticing. It sets up the characters expertly and then toys with the viewer's expectations. Vijay trying to adjust to his new life as a free man is perfect as the weary loner. Katrina with a kid in tow convinces as the vulnerable woman that can pull the weary hero's heartstrings. Her character turn in the second half transforms her into a femme fatale, all the while building up a mystique about the little girl. Sanjay Kapoor enters the story as a good samaritan and progressively transforms into a creep. In fact, his clean looks and jovial demeanor lend well into his good guy act. Vinay Shukla's performance in the last act effectively pivots the movie from a crime thriller to a cat-and-mouse game. He may come across as a comic foil, but it is this turn that gives a new direction to the happenings..

I enjoyed the shots of Mumbai that are rooted in a particular location rather than zooming out to the entire city. The close of the city adds to the atmosphere of the film. The repeated use of the same location makes the movie more lived in and familiar.

To end, Merry Christmas is the kind of film that stays in your mind even a month after viewing it.

Talvar

I finally got around to watching Talvar after hearing gushing things about it (not least because I subscribe to TOI, and the movie is produced by its sister concern.

The Aarushi Talwar double murder case has been obsessed over in media and in conversations, and will be for a long time to come. This is not without a reason; it appears to be a perfect crime, a crime of passion, one of alleged honor killing, also because the ineptitude of the Noida police has been well documented.

I went in the movie with great expectations, as names like Vishal Bhardwaj, Gulzar, Irrfan and Konkana Sen Sharma have been associated. Plus, the pre-release hype for the movie promised a Rashomon-like experiment, where no one theory was right, and it was a case of perceptions. Sadly, the final product underwhelmed me.

In tackling the Talwar murder, director Meghna Gulzar takes on a challenge that she does not manage to convincingly win. There are a few expert punches, but overall, the director takes on an emotional and commonly held views: that parents can't kill their children, that the police are inept, that office politics trumps the quest for justice.

Talvar doesn't take it's name from the Talwars, but from the talwar that the statue of blind justice carries, that people often overlook. In fact, the family heres are the Tandons, whose daughter Shruti is murdered. I found this name change confusing, since the director and the producer have said in interviews that the story is based on Aarushi Talvar murder case. Why then did they need to change Talvar to Tandon is perplexing. Last minute jitters about litigation?

Instead of the promised Rashomon-like differing perspectives, we get a linear narrative of what happened. The Aarushi case becomes an excuse to highlight a an inept police, an over inquisitive media, nosy neighbors. Understand that Talvar is less about the double murder and more to do with talvar that the statue of Justice holds in her hands. The actual murder and it's aftermath are rushed through, with more emphasis being on the CBI investigation that followed. This is where the movie starts to come apart. Talvar posits a theory that the CBI actually cracked the mystery of who killed Aarushi, but professional rivalry among the officials was the reason it was unable to present a plausible case before the courts. The theory proposed by the movie rests easily on 'the butler did it' argument, only in this case, it is the butler's friends that did it. This is a very simplistic solution to the murder mystery. Aarushi was killed under mysterious circumstances, and the idea proposed by Talvar, though radical and requiring a leap of faith, may not be entirely wrong. But like I said, it requires a certain leap of faith in the director for the viewer to completely disregard what the newspapers have been saying to their readers as well as how the courts inferred the facts of the case. That would require a solid case against the established facts to be presented, which the film fails in doing.

The reason the movie fails is the character development. The Talvars, or in this case the Tandons, are cardboard characters instead of the fleshed out persons that they needed to be. The viewer must empathize with the characters before they agree with their arguments or justifications, but the movie portrays them one dimensionally. The result is a protagonist that fails to connect.

The film makers may argue that the movie is about the investigation but even the characters that do the investigation come across as one dimensional. It starts with the paan chewing inefficient cop who poses for for photos and is forever on the phone. Looking at him the viewer knows that he will bungle up, which he does. The second person to talk about the investigation, the senior police officer is ready to believe in heresay to make the claim about wife swapping; again by-the-numbers.

The movie is supposed to be anchored by the CBI officer who conducted the investigation, the one who nabbed the actual culprit. He is expected to be a well rounded person that can engage the viewer and make them agree with the film's position. What the viewer gets instead is a protagonist in the classic mould of a weary and beaten cop who has seen the ugly side of life and now lives for the small things in life, like sharing liquor with the Chinese food stall owner. Even his marriage is falling apart, making him a complete nomad in the society. He has no ambition in taking up the case, except to get to the truth. His colleagues, however, have their motives in twisting it to meet their ends, and looking at them it becomes obvious. While the protagonist is a loner, his colleagues hunt in packs. Over simplification anyone? An aside: Irrfan as CBI officer Arun Kumar in glasses is the definitive Gulzar touch. There is no doubt about whom to believe.

In taking up the Aarushi Talvar murder mystery, director Meghna Gulzar has shown that she has the guts to tackle a complex subject. She instead deals with it in a manner that panders to our distrust of those who have less than us, but who we can't do without. We tend to blame those working for us for faults that may not be theirs without a second thought and by taking this line, the movie panders to the majority view. It takes certain faith to think that maybe, just maybe, the parents might have been at fault - after all, honor killings are a reality in our society. The inference drawn by the movie seems to be a way of playing to the gallery, be crowd pleasing. The parents are exonerated of any crime, the blame is on the servants. The viewer who paid good money to watch it in the theater feels vindicated in belief that it is the others, less fortunate ones that commit crime.

Which is a cop out.  

Badlapur: When Revenge is Vintage

Revenge is a dish best served cold.
                                            -  Klingon saying

The modern discourse is populated by calls for revenge and retribution. Revenge has gained acceptance in popular culture as justified if one feels slighted. But what about the revenge seeker? When does the yearning for revenge die? What if it stays alive?

Badlapur doesn't tackle these questions head on, but it does visit them. Let's not forget, first and foremost, this is a masala film, and it stays true to the genre.

Sriram Raghavan, a master of thrillers, tells a story of revenge, but true to the genre, presents it with a lot of twists. People expecting a straightforward revenge and redemption story may be disappointed but those that love a good thriller will find it satisfying.

The story, told in a linear fashion goes thus: Raghu's (Varun Dhawan) wife Misha and son Robin, while returning home one day end up becoming hostages to an escape from a bank heist. Both are killed and the culprit, Laik (Nawazuddin), is jailed for the crime though he claims that his partner did it without revealing his name. Liak is a free man after fifteen years and as he goes to collect his share of his booty, discovers that Raghu had killed his partner Harman and his wife, and his love is a rich man's keep.

The theme of Badla or revenge runs prominently throughout the movie, but a subliminal theme also is of a badlav (change). Time changes everyone.  As Raghu waits for his revenge, he undergoes a badlav from a man mourning over the death of his family to a loner who is looking for a chance to avenge the murder of his wife and son. Liak, too,  metamorphoses from an eternal optimist in the prison to a jaded person once he manages to come out.  People change, as does the times. Holding on to memories - tragic ones for Raghu and happy ones for Liak - is no protection against the present. There is no redemption to be had in memories.
Liak's coming out of prison sets into motion a chain of events that forces to audience to view the protagonist and the antagonist in a new light. To paraphrase a Gulzar song, भला बुरा है, बुरा भला है।  As tables turn, one wonders if there is any absolution for the players. Raghu lost his family in one brutal incident, while Liak lost his love over the years but only realised it when he came out of prison. Both face their demons in their own fashion.
Varun Dhawan is a revelation, in that he can pull in a performance. Though not fully convincing, he shows that he is ready to push his limits, which is a good thing. Nawazuddin puts in a great performance that has come to be expected from him, and then takes it a notch higher. His Liak is at once reprehensible as well as pitiable. Huma Qureshi, Vinay Pathak, Radhika Apte also put in convincing performance. Pathak, especially, is a treat to watch, as he belies expectations from his character convincingly. He deserves a movie of his own and not of the Bheja Fry kind.
The director loves the jump cut as a plot device to move the story forward. It takes a little getting used to, but in the end, makes for an interesting narrative.
Badlapur is not your typical Bollywood revenge saga, but is told deftly to interest even a hardcore masala lover.

Gangs of Wasseypur

Anurag Kashyap attempts a magnum opus with this one. Telling a story story that spans generations is tough, one that spans three generations is tougher still. One that also is a reflection of the changes that happened in the intervening years is a very tall order. But Anurag Kashyap is not one to back out of challenges, and the end result is a mixed bag.

Gangs of Wasseypur attempts to tell the story of warring Khans and Qureshis,the Khans and the Singhs and also the rise of the coal mafia in this small town. Here, Anurag Kashyap loses track occasionally, concentrating on on character to the detriment of others. The story of the warring factions is not directly linked to the coal mafia, so in effect, Kashyap attempts to tell two stories in one. 

Therein, the problem arises, as he flits between the two stories for the first thirty minutes, and then intermittently. But look past this flaw, and what emerges is an engrossing story, well told. The actors paying their parts being out the characters wonderfully.

The story matter is dark, populated by people who curse, beat and kill. They are darker than the coal mines of Wasseypur. Shahid Khan, a Pathan who robs trains as Sultana daku picks up a fight with the Querishis and is forced to move to Dhanbad, where he works in a coal mine. The first time he meets Ramadhir Singh on screen is when he is being stopped from going to see his wife who is expecting his child. It is clear that their relationship is uneasy, and the son is remotely involved.

Later, as things progress after India gains independence, Ramadhir Singh gets to oversee the mines and Shahid is  his enforcer. Each is getting more ambitious. The wily Ramadhir puts an end to Shahid's ambitions and nearly kills Sardar as well but he survives. Into this mix, come the Qureshis, once again. 

Manoj Bajpai plays the grown up Sardar Khan, hell bent on revenge, his only motivation. Sardar is darkness personified, having no conscience or guilt. All his actions are geared towards eliminating Ramadhir Singh, who has no idea about him. But for all all his bravado outside, he is at the receiving end of his wife's jhaadu. Richa Chadda has played the fiesty Najma, wife of Sardar Khan with conviction. The sight of a heavily Nagma chasing Sardar through a brothel, jhaadu on one hand, and of her going to spy on her husband with her kids speak of her range as an actor. Her wide range of emotions is a perfect foil to the single minded focus of Sardar Khan.

As the film progresses, we see Sardar Khan returning to Wasseypur to take on the Querishis, who have been terrorizing the other Muslims. He takes not time in making his presence felt. When he does meet Ramdhir Singh, he does not introduce himself with words, but with artifacts. Ramadhir is stunned, knowing he made a mistake long ago.

In the mean time, he also get a Hindu mistress for himself, the Bangalan Durga. The sequence of their courtship is among the few light moments in this otherwise dark film. Reema Sen as the seductress Durga is captivating.

Sardar loses no opportunity in hitting at Ramadhir. His clout has grown, and Ramadhir knows about him, but he is more of a nuisance to him than a threat.

In the mean time, two of his sons, Danish and Faisal have grown up, Danish being the good son and Faisal being the rebel. Faisal is the only innocent soul in the movie, a charasi who has taken refuge in the world of drugs and movies to escape the harsh realities around him.

From the beginning till the end, one expects violence to erupt on screen, such is the tension created by the characters. When Danish manages a truce between the Khans and the Qureshis, it would seem Sardar will have one less enemy to worry about. But the final attack on him at a petrol pump awakens him to the vengeance he had promised himself: the total annihilation of Ramadhir Singh, which still remains. Riddled with bullets, struggling to stand straight, he is again reminded of his aim, and sets out to pass on his vengeance to his sons. That is the perfect ending to the saga of Sardar, and the beginning of rise of Faisal Khan. One looks forward to the sequel.

Shanghai

Dibakar Banerjee gets together an ensemble cast for his fourth outing, a mix of regulars (Abhay Deol), expected (Kalki Kochelin, fast an alternate cinema favourite) and completely unexpected (Emran Hashmi??!!??).
Shanghai takes off from the promise that politicians make, about bringing about development, in this case, compared to Shanghai. Shanghaied also means to swindle someone. In the case of the move, the title can refer to either.
Based on the Greek novel 'Z', the setting has been Indianised. The aspirations of small town India aiming to be in the big league, 'progress' and 'modernity' trampling the traditional, the film covers everything.
Dibakar Banerjee has an eye for details, which catches the smaller nuances in a scene. He employs this sharp  observations to good use to capture the feel of a small-town India. His Bharatnagar is a claustrophobic town, filled with people aiming to move up in life. Pitobash wants to learn English, so that he can become a manager, Emran wants to earn money so that he can go home, and many more such stories. In the middle of all this, there are huge celebrations by the political parties celebrating their city that is about to become another Shanghai.
The Bharat Mata Ki Jai song appears to be ill-fitting in this setting, but in the smoke and mirror goings-on in the film, it is the most direct shot of reality. Calling the bluff on all the positive surroundings, the song, instead, revels on the truth of the visible India, the gur as well as the gobar.
The bleak environs of the movie are a stark contrast to the candy floss that is served up every week in theaters. That itself sets apart, but what elevates it is the performance of the principal cast. Of special note is Faroukh Sheikh as Kaul, the face of the government, as he goes about ironing out the issues, and also, the actor who plays Pitobash's mamu through all the mayhem, he is concerned about his truck, while being consumed by guilt. Though he speaks less, his eyes speak volumes.
Whit this movie, Dibakar Banerjee serves up another intelligent far. If three strikes is a hat trick, what do you call it when a person strikes four times?