Showing posts with label Kamal Haasan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kamal Haasan. Show all posts

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Manjummel Boys: Thinly written, inconsistent but ultimately rewarding survival drama (Review 797)

Release date:

February 22, 2024

Director:

Chidambaram

Cast:

Soubin Shahir, Sreenath Bhasi, Deepak Parambol, Chandu Salimkumar, Khalidh Rahman, Ganapathi S. Poduval, Balu Varghese, Abhiram Radhakrishnan, Arun Kurian, Lal Jr, Vishnu Reghu 

Language:

Malayalam with Tamil 

 


“Jeevithathil stuck aayitulla paara.” That’s how one of the key players in the new Malayalam film Manjummel Boys, describes a precariously poised, giant boulder that he sees while wandering around Kodaikanal in Tamil Nadu with a gaggle of man-children. His words are appropriately poetic and thoughtful for the setting, in a departure from the gang’s unruliness and loudness until then. The contrast is emblematic of the effect that nature can have on even the most restless of humans, and offers an insight into what Manjummel Boys might have been if it had lived up to the potential of its premise all the way. As things stand, this survival thriller cum coming-of-age saga is outstanding in part yet thinly written and inconsistently toned for the most part. 

 

Manjummel Boys features an ensemble of boisterous buddies – all of them men, all barring one of them young, all of them old enough to be deemed terribly immature for their age – in a decade before cellphones and social media had flooded our world. Manjummel is the name of a locality in Kochi with which the ‘boys’ christen themselves. Their wayward existence is disrupted by a tragic turn of events during their hill station sojourn that tests their spirit and their relationships. 

 

The film is written and directed by Chidambaram who notched up a hit with his directorial debut Jan-E-Man. The latter smoothly and effectively combined a sense of humour with grim themes such as depression, separation and death. Manjummel Boys aims at a drastic shift in mood from light-heartedness at first to utter gloom tempered by hope, but without the same finesse.

 

The narrative kicks off by introducing us to the rambunctiousness and camaraderie of these men-who-are-still-boys. The friends are captured making merry at a wedding, engaged in fun and games including a bout of tug of war, hanging out, planning an out-station trip, and at last, actually making that trip. This goes on for what feels like an endless stretch replete with clichés that are rampant in Malayalam male bonding chronicles. In these passages, they shout at rather than speak to each other, noise is used as a substitute for substance and storytelling verve, and precious length that could have been spent on character development is squandered away. 

 

For the record, it is not essential for survival flicks to create character arcs before the high drama of the central plot takes over. The point here is that Chidambaram does spend a lot of time with the ‘boys’ before disaster strikes, but does not make effective use of that period. Later, it becomes clear that their activities in that portion foreshadowed their actions in the second half, and showcasing their layaboutery early on was a way of stressing their strength of character later on. Too bad that this was done through repetitive, formulaic scenes shorn of depth. 

 

There are lots of familiar faces and names in this crowd: Sreenath Bhasi, Soubin Shahir (who is also one of the producers), Deepak Parambol, Ganapathi S. Poduval, Arun Kurian, Balu Varghese and Abhiram Radhakrishnan among them. Half these characters would have been indistinguishable from each other if they weren’t played by recognisable actors.  

 


After much yelling and posing around at scenic spots, towards the end of their stay in Kodaikanal the group decide on a last-minute stop before heading home. Their destination is Devil’s Kitchen a.k.a. Guna Cave, nicknamed after the Tamil cult classic Gunaa (1991) starring Kamal Haasan and Roshni that was shot there. The men continue to act idiotically, but now Chidambaram thankfully also finds space for calm as Shyju Khalid’s camera roams around in awe of the mountains, running its eye over and between rock faces, deep into caves and high above the land, examining the dramatic arrangements of trees and rocks engineered by natural forces. 

 

The tiresome scenes that preceded Manjummel Boys’ arrival at Guna Cave become a distant memory when an accident caused by the men’s irresponsible conduct turns their holiday into a nightmare. The shock of that turning point, the suspense and technical accomplishments of the film from then on – intelligent sound design by Shijin Hutton and Abhishek Nair, and intelligent use of Sushin Shyam’s music complementing the cinematographer’s imaginative exploration of the location – compensate for the continuing limitations in the writing. 

 

In short, Manjummel Boys is an uneven experience. On the one hand, the shooting of the Guna Cave area and the treatment of the twist are impeccable. On the other hand, the scripting continues to be patchy and unsophisticated. The first flashback to the characters’ childhood leading into their  behaviour in desperate circumstances in Kodaikanal is well done. But it gets predictable when it happens again, and then again when their seemingly purposeless shenanigans before the interval come of use in rescue operations. 

 

The last half hour is packed with nail-biting tension despite this. 

 

Manjummel Boys is challenging for another reason. Malayalam and Tamil are fitted naturally into the script, but there were no subtitles played in the hall in Delhi where I watched it. While this could have been the multiplex management’s mess-up (even when producers subtitle their films, theatres in Delhi very often don’t bother to play the subs), a question remains for the makers themselves: since Manjummel Boys’ primary language is Malayalam, why are Malayalam subtitles not embedded in the print itself throughout the Tamil dialogues (in the way they are in one portion depicting characters in Tamil Nadu regaling the visitors from Kerala with lore surrounding Guna Cave, its recent history and mythology)? In its present shape, the film is inaccessible not only to non-Malayalam speakers in that particular hall, it is tough even for Malayalam speakers who do not know Tamil.

 

The Malayalam film industry does not often visit the survival genre, and on those rare outings it has a mixed tracked record. Helen (2019) and Malayankunju (2018) are recent examples that got it right. Like these two, most survival films tend to be intense studies of human nature. They need not be. Manjummel Boys’ problem is that it is not satisfied with action and suspense alone. It wants to be profound but can only partially pull it off. For one, the tribute to Gunaa has not been thought through. If the iconic Tamil film was merely the motivation that spurs the ‘boys’ of Manjummel to visit Guna Cave it would have made sense. However, pointed references are made to Gunaa through song and dialogue that gradually draws a parallel between the pivotal relationship in the earlier film and the willingness of the ‘boys’ here to give up their lives for each other in the end. But Gunaa was not about a healthy love or friendship, it was about unhealthy obsession and delusion. Kamal’s character in that film was mentally unwell, he abducted a woman with whom he believed he had a divine connection, and ultimately preferred death over life without her. To evoke nostalgia for the lovely music of that film is all very well, but the concerted mindless effort to evoke nostalgia for the ‘love’ and ‘sacrifice’ in Gunaa makes Manjummel Boys both intellectually pretentious and intellectually lightweight.

 

Text on screen post-climax reveals that Manjummel Boys is based on the true story of a bravery award winner called Siju David. Knowing that what happened at Guna Cave in Manjummel Boys actually happened in real life adds a layer of chills to the better half of this flawed, partly rewarding film. 

 

Rating (out of 5 stars): 2.5   

 

Running time:

135 minutes 

 

Visual courtesy: IMDB  

Friday, August 10, 2018

REVIEW 625: VISHWAROOP 2


Release date:
August 10, 2018
Director:
Kamal Haasan
Cast:



Language:
Kamal Haasan, Andrea Jeremiah, Pooja Kumar, Shekhar Kapur, Rahul Bose, Jaideep Ahlawat, Waheeda Rahman, Russell Geoffrey Banks 
Hindi

(Note: This film was shot simultaneously with the same cast in two languages, and has been released as Vishwaroopam II in Tamil and Vishwaroop II in Hindi. Here is my review of the Hindi version, Vishwaroop II.)


When Kamal Haasan is good, he is so good that he has the ability to transport the viewer to another realm. From a boy in a forbidden relationship in K. Balachander’s Apoorva Raagangal (1975) to the country bumpkin in love with the only educated girl in his village in Bharathiraja’s 16 Vayathinile (1977), and the bitter, brooding, idealistic unemployed youth whose scintillating chemistry with the great Sridevi scorched the screen in Balachander’s Varumaiyin Niram Sivappu (1980), over the years he has invested himself in some wonderful roles in wonderful films – mostly in Tamil, some in Telugu – with directors who had a significant point to make.

There is not enough space here for an exhaustive list of Haasan’s best works, but it will remain one of life’s eternal questions why this artistic giant has wasted so much of the past 30 years on gimmicky films instead of devoting himself entirely to the raw, soul-searching performances he is respected for – the sort you will not find in his latest venture.

Vishwaroop II is the Hindi version of the Tamil Vishwaroopam II, both of which were shot simultaneously with the same actors and are a follow-up to 2013’s Vishwaroopam/Vishwaroop. In the previous film, Wisam Ahmad Kashmiri (Haasan) is leading a double life in New York, as a Kathak teacher who is, in reality, a RAW agent. Nirupama (Pooja Kumar) is bored of her marriage of convenience with this older man until she discovers his truth. Wisam’s encounters with the Al Qaeda terrorist Omar (Rahul Bose) end in the latter’s escape.

Vishwaroop II spends a considerable part of its pre-interval portion recounting what happened in Part 1. This proves to be a drag for those who have seen that film, and while I cannot speak on behalf of those who have not, the flashbacks are so sketchy that I do not see how they could have served the purpose for which they are placed there.

Anyway, in the present day, Wisam, his young protégé Ashmita (Andrea Jeremiah), Colonel Jagannath (Shekhar Kapur) and Nirupama once again run into Omar who is out for revenge against Wisam while also planning a cataclysmic event in the UK that would put 9/11 in the shade. Somewhere between saving the world and himself, Wisam manages to woo his wife and bond with his mother (Waheeda Rahman).

Vishwaroopam II is too ordinary to be worthy of a detailed critique. It makes a fleeting mention of Islamophobia, but in a month that has given us Anubhav Sinha’s brilliant Mulk, that argument, though reasonably well made, is too marginal to merit a discussion. I suppose you could say the crux of the film is to remind us that Haasan at 63 has still got what it takes to be a hero in an all-out commercial film, but all the gravity-defying stunts in the world cannot mask the superficiality of this storyline, the mundaneness of its thriller elements, the lack of a spark between Haasan and Kumar, Ashmita’s irritating effort to imply that she is romantically involved with Wisam (towards which end she even makes a distasteful reference to rape) or the all-round tackiness of the production quality.

For all its failings, at least Vishwaroop had its slick art design (in that dance studio in New York and in Omar’s hideout on the Afghanistan-Pakistan border) going for it, in addition to memorable choreography by Birju Maharaj and impressive fight scenes. Here, the fake studio backdrops at certain places are so glaringly obvious that I wanted to weep at the thought of a legendary thespian even bothering with this project. Yes, I get that Indian films are made at a milli-fraction of the budget available to Hollywood, but so many of our cinematic works look technically rich, including several in Haasan’s own career, that this excuse does not cut ice.

The mediocrity extends to the story, the storytelling, the research, the music and the sound design. In a scene in an assisted living facility, a nurse is shown almost pestering an Alzheimer’s patient to dip into her memory. Even someone with a basic knowledge of Alzheimer’s Disease will tell you that that is an absolute no-no. Elsewhere, in a closed room supposedly in the UK, horns can be heard blaring loudly and incessantly outside – the sound designer appears to have forgotten that constantly honking is a congenital Indian disorder and that the streets of Britain are far calmer than ours. The entire cast’s acting is unremarkable, and the women in particular are mere appendages to Wisam. Jeremiah is attractive and agile while walloping a villain, but does not have enough such scenes in the film.

The low point of Vishwaroop II is the terrible singing of a number titled Tu srotu hai by Haasan, Kaushiki Chakraborty and Karthik Suresh Iyer. While Haasan shouts in places to camouflage his struggle to sing, Chakraborty and Iyer screech when the pitch goes high.

Sadly, Haasan has no one to blame but himself for this misadventure since he is the producer, director and writer (the dialogues for the Hindi version are by Atul Tiwari).

I love Kamal Haasan. I do. I was a kid when I cried for his character Raja as he assured his best friend that he was not in love with her in Ramesh Sippy’s Saagar (1985), one of the few Hindi films he did that I thought deserved him. I laughed till I died at his antics in the dialogueless Pushpak Vimana (1987). And just recently, when he stepped into Mohanlal’s role in Papanasam (2015), the Tamil remake of the Malayalam blockbuster Drishyam starring Lalettan, he did indeed remind us that he still has what it takes to play the leading man in an all-out commercial film without the crutch of a double role, a triple role, 10 roles, a lover who looks young enough to be his child, a heavy use of prosthetics or excessive reliance on an action director that have been the USPs of too many of his films from the 1990s onwards. All he needs to do is stay as nicely physically fit as he is now, rely on his tremendous acting talent, pick dependable directors and solid scripts. Maybe someone needs to write a mystery thriller on why the iconic Kamal Haasan does not get that.

Apart from the shock value of the extreme violence it features and a vital statement about fundamentalism-versus-education, Vishwaroop II has nothing new to offer. It is a scar on Haasan’s filmography and a dead bore.

Rating (out of five stars): *1/2

CBFC Rating (India):
UA
Running time:
2 hours 21 minutes 

Footnote about the Censor rating: A UA rating makes no sense considering the nature of the violence in the film. Among other disturbing visuals, Vishwaroop II shows us repeated close-ups of gory wounds, daggers piercing eyes and necks, and a lingering shot of a man whose throat has just been smashed with a fist. While you cannot help but wonder whether it helped the film that the Censor Board chief is its lyricist, to be fair, this rating is in keeping with the hypocrisy of India’s film rating system which has for long now deemed violence, sexual innuendo, sexism, extreme misogyny including rape jokes and casual assaults on women in male-centric, big-banner commercial projects UA-worthy, while explicit depictions of sex between consenting adults are usually given A (Adults Only) certificates. More recently, with Veere Di Wedding, we saw the CBFC stamping an A rating on women just talking about sex and masturbating. 

For more on this, you could read my column headlined “Consistently Inconsistent” written in 2015 – nothing has changed since then:


A version of this review has also been published on Firstpost:



Monday, January 4, 2016

THE annavetticadgoes2themovies AWARDS: BEST INDIAN FILMS OF 2015



Before the film awards calendar takes off in our country, come lists by film critics of their choice of Best Films from the year gone by. This is mine. Keep in mind that this is a compilation of best Indian films released in 2015 from among those I watched; it covers fiction features in all languages, not documentaries.

Feel free to disagree – civilly, of course. After all, IMHO – as we say in this age of acronyms – the whole point of watching films is the fun of arguing over them with friends afterwards.

Here you go then: my list of Best Indian Films 2015.

BEST FILM:

Winner: 

Ottaal  (The Trap) / Malayalam 

If Alfonso Cuaron had decided to set Gravity in Kerala’s backwaters, Ottaal is what it might have been.

Veteran director Jayaraj’s film revolves around a bright-eyed little boy called Kuttapaayi, his relationship with his grandfather who is a duck keeper, and their bond with nature. It is the sort of film that can overwhelm you with its awareness of the immensity of Creation, a reminder of the little dots that we are – tiny yet significant – when seen in the context of the expanse of the universe. It is about innocence lost and exploited, a child cruelly plucked out of his placid surroundings to be chucked into the country’s labour force, as an allegory for the havoc humans wreak on the natural scheme of things.

Kuttanad is so scenic that an amateur could point a cellphone camera in any direction and capture loveliness, but cinematographer M.J. Radhakrishnan takes this handy beauty to another level altogether through his lens, delivering poetry in motion and stillness on screen. The unspoilt, untouched feel of the film is further enhanced by the effortlessness of the non-actors playing the leads, Ashanth K Sha as Kuttapaayi and Kumarakom Vasudevan (a fisherman in real life) as the old man.

Ottaal is derived from the 19th century Russian short story Vanka by Anton Chekhov. The film is so rooted in its surroundings, that few viewers would have figured out the foreign literary source if the filmmaker had not credited it. The acknowledgement is a reminder though that its rootedness is accompanied by a certain indefinable timelessness and placelessness that lends itself well to this universal theme.

After all, every age has had its enemies of innocence and harmony. Chekhov found them 130 years ago in a shoemaker’s establishment in Moscow. Jayaraj found his in the 21st century, stealing from the wetlands of Kuttanad. Beautiful.

(For a related article by the author, click here)

First Runner-Up:

Court / Marathi with Hindi, English, Gujarati


Court is debutant writer-director Chaitanya Tamhane’s slap in the face of India’s judicial processes, layered with insights about caste, class and gender.

A sewage worker in Mumbai dies and instead of investigating the terrible work conditions that led to his end, the government cries suicide, charging an inconvenient Dalit activist-singer with performing an inflammatory song that allegedly incited the poor man to take his own life. The bizarre yet believable story is augmented by an excellent cast and unobtrusive, supremely confident direction.

Imagine an Indian lower court being transposed to a non-sensational, non-gossipy Bigg Boss house where cameras stay switched on for 24 hours to record the proceedings – that is how incredibly realistic Court is. Tragic, thoughtful, touching.

(For the author’s original review of Court, click here)

Second Runner-Up:

Kaaka Muttai / Tamil 


A deceptively simple film about a couple of slum children in Chennai, M. Manikandan’s Kaaka Muttai is as sad as it is curiously uplifting. The pivotal characters – as lovable as two little humans can get – nickname themselves Chinna Kaaka Muttai (Crow’s Egg Jr) and Periya Kaaka Muttai (Crow’s Egg Sr) after their unusual eating habits that see them stealing from birds’ nests. When a swish pizza outlet opens up right next to their slum, they begin craving those slices of cheese-laden promise that they have seen in television advertisements.

Their food quest sets off a chain of events that casts a spotlight on the horrendous class divides in our megapolises where hovels abut high-rise prosperity, luxe malls, homes and eateries, where the welfare of the poor is a mere tool in the hands of a city’s power-brokers.

Iyshwarya Rajesh is impeccable as the boys’ composed, hard-working mother. The little ones themselves, J. Vignesh and V. Ramesh, are cute as buttons and good actors to boot.

Kaaka Muttai is one of the sweetest, most charming commentaries on poverty, hypocrisy, self-respect and the human spirit that you will ever see.

Third Runner-Up:

Dum Laga Ke Haisha / Hindi 


A reductive description of Dum Laga Ke Haisha could be this: a good-looking boy, forced to marry a fat girl, mistreats her because he is repelled by her weight and his own inability to withstand family pressure. But being reductive would go against the very essence of writer-director Sharat Katariya’s marvelously uncommon film, which refuses to limit its heroine to her physicality. Sure, she is the antithesis of the stick figures that crowd today’s cinema and catwalks, but she is also a brand ambassador for resilience, education, aspirations and a sense of self-worth. Yes, her husband’s response to her proportions is a pivotal point of the film, but neither she nor the director’s gaze defines her by it.

Adding to the entertainment quotient of Dum Laga Ke… is its tribute to the music and dance of 1990s Hindi cinema, especially through the hero’s love for Kumar Sanu. In this context, the choreography in the final song is particularly enjoyable, as is actor Ayushmann Khurrana’s ability to transport us back two decades through his moves.

Debutant Bhumi Pednekar as the central character and Ayushmann as her under-confident spouse, shine despite being surrounded by a cast of very strong supporting actors. Their performances, like the film’s narrative, are pitch perfect.

(For the author’s original review of Dum Laga Ke Haisha, click here)

THE CONTENDERS:

5: Talvar / Hindi

This fictionalised account of the Aarushi Talwar-Hemraj murder case, almost-documentary-like in its storytelling style, is chilling in its take on how the system could consume ordinary citizens to cover up its mistakes. Meghna Gulzar’s direction partnered by auteur Vishal Bhardwaj’s flawless writing throws new light on a double killing that rocked this nation in 2008.

There is a commendable matter-of-factness to the Rashomon-style narrative, which offers multiple accounts of the crime and its investigation, variously portraying the parents as guilty or innocent of the murders. The detached tone is sustained throughout, barring a few moments in a strand that holds the parents guilty, in which Neeraj Kabi indulges in some seemingly deliberate, farcical acting when he, as Aarushi’s father, discovers her body.

That being said, there is no doubt about who the film sides with and where it stands. Some people see this as a lack of objectivity. Since when did objectivity come to mean not having an opinion?

Talvar offers the sort of unrelenting, meticulous scrutiny given to the case by the few responsible journalists who covered it noiselessly in the midst of the cacophony unleashed by the rest of the media. It is a film about the gaping gulf between co-existing social classes, about the inherent problems in India’s criminal justice system and about news professionals gone berserk.

The stellar cast is led by Irrfan Khan who is, in a word, brilliant.

6: Pathemari / Malayalam

When he is at his best, Mammooty has the ability to reach into our weeping bosoms, tear out our hearts and rip them to tiny, tiny shreds. This is precisely what he does in Pathemari.

Director Salim Ahamed’s emotionally gripping film has the veteran playing Pallickal Narayanan, a man who spends 50 years of his life slaving away at menial jobs in Dubai to make life better for his family back home. The kudumbam does not know his struggles and for the most part, remains indifferent to his suffering.

As much as this is a film about immigrants, it is also about how patriarchy saps men of so much in its bid to dominate social power structures, to retain power and wealth in male hands. The film begs the question more people ought to ask: Why, oh why, do men fight so hard to preserve a back-breaking, potentially life-destroying system where they are the primary breadwinners of a family and women the care-givers? 

Though it wouldn’t have hurt the story to reduce the halo around Narayanan’s head just a tad bit, so much can be forgiven considering the emotional heft Ahamed achieves in this film. My heart broke for Pallickal Narayanan when I watched Pathemari. It aches now each time I think of him. What more can you ask of a film?

(For a related article by the author, click here)

7: Drishyam / Hindi and Papanasam / Tamil

When Malayalam director Jeethu Joseph made the Mohanlal-Meena-starrer Drishyam in 2013 (considered by many to be an uncredited adaptation of the Japanese novel The Devotion of Suspect X), it seemed unlikely that anyone would better it. And then someone did. Twice in 2015. One of those someones is Jeethu himself.

Director Nishikant Kamat’s Drishyam improves upon the lovely original with a casting touch here and an acting moment there, in what is a legit Hindi remake of the Malayalam film. This is the story of two socially divergent worlds colliding, a crime of self-defence and an absolute genius of a cover-up. The architect of the whitewash is a small businessman in rural Goa (Ajay Devgn) who is out to protect his wife (Shriya Saran) and daughters from a police investigation.

The differences between the Malayalam and Hindi versions are barely discernible yet unmistakable. The wife here is portrayed as a stronger woman. As the film rolls along, she progresses from being a mere participant to the man’s partner in his plan. There is more liberalism too in their traditional household and their conversations with each other. Besides, the reduced age difference between the lead actors here automatically makes her appear more like his equal than his ward.

This Drishyam is, without a doubt, one of the best thrillers ever to emerge from the Hindi film industry.

Papanasam is Jeethu Joseph’s own Tamil remake of his Malayalam film. Starring veterans Kamal Haasan and Gautami – both superb – it released just weeks before the Hindi film. Although it is more faithful to the original’s conservatism than the Hindi film, the one element that puts it on an equal footing with the Bollywood interpretation is the central casting.

Unlike his contemporary Mohanlal, Kamal here is not acting with a woman who looks and is young enough to be his daughter. The generational proximity between him and Gautami makes theirs automatically come across as more of a partnership than the senior-junior dynamic between the leads in Malayalam, even though both stories feature conformist patriarchal set-ups.

The lead couple’s raging libido too gets an unspoken new dimension in the Tamil film because of the casting. Rarely are stars of Kamal’s seniority shown lusting after wives played by actresses their age. Equally rare are actresses in their 40s portraying women who are openly sexually active. The 14 years that separate Kamal and Gautami is not a small difference, but it is still a refreshing change from the two- and three-decade age gaps between him or his male peers and actresses they romance in commercial Indian cinema.

This unexpected progressiveness is somewhat marred by the completely needless couple of references to rape – however passing they may be – in Papanasam. It is a good thing that those distasteful few seconds whiz by towards the beginning of the film, before Papanasam settles down into being what it is meant to be: a socially perceptive, edge-of-the-seat suspense saga. That it could hold the attention of even a critic who had already seen two versions of the same story on screen, is a measure of its extreme effectiveness.

(For the author’s original review of the Hindi Drishyam, click here)

8: NH10 / Hindi

A brave, gritty thriller cum social exposition that marked actress Anushka Sharma’s debut as producer. Set in the part of Haryana that is just adjacent to Delhi’s posh suburban sibling Gurgaon, NH10 is a terrifyingly revelatory film.

There are worlds within worlds in this country, and just off the arterial National Highway No. 10 is a world where a professional woman in non-traditional clothing zipping past in an SUV with a husband she chose for herself is no less than an alien from outer space. It is this misogynistic space that Meera accidentally enters one day in Navdeep Singh’s tautly directed, breath-stoppingly told NH10.

The outstanding satellite cast is headlined by Darshan Kumaar whose second screen outing here shows him up to be a remarkably versatile talent. His first was as Priyanka Chopra’s low-key, supportive husband in 2014’s Mary Kom.

Anushka is a worthy fulcrum, inhabiting her character with a vengeance that her more bubbly roles have not necessarily allowed. Explosive and memorable.

(For the author’s original review of NH10, click here)

9: Piku / Hindi

An entrepreneur with a short temper, her father who is obsessed with his bowels and his beti, and an exasperated cab company owner – this odd trio forms the focus of the very unusual Piku. It is a risky film that pays off.

How often do we see a mainstream film anywhere in the world filled with poop humour that is ridiculous but not yucky, distasteful or immature? This is director Shoojit Sircar’s latest team-up with writer Juhi Chaturvedi. In Vicky Donor they pulled off an unexpectedly sensitive film about a sperm donor in which, as storytellers, they knew precisely what not to say to avoid being icky. This time they roll out a ream of potty jokes that do not diminish Piku’s gentle heart, its progressive, feminist core or its courage to speak up about a hugely taboo topic in this country, selfish parents.

Amitabh Bachchan is delicious as an affectionate stereotype of Bengalis, not a contemptuous caricature. Deepika Padukone as the titular heroine is her usual easy self before the camera. And Irrfan should now be anointed The Other King Khan.

Seriously. At least in the Hindi film awards scenario, it might be safe to permanently reserve a slot for him on annual nominations lists. That Piku, without warning, serves up crackling yet comfortable chemistry between him and Deepika is a testament to their talent as much as the intelligent writing.

I did long for some moments of quietude between the father and daughter in the film, but compensation for that grouse comes in the form of the many mellow conversations between the girl and Irrfan’s character.

One of the nice things about Shoojit is the manner in which he has generously ensured that Juhi has been equally celebrated for the successes of Vicky Donor and Piku. Theirs is a writer-director match made in heaven. Inshallah, for the sake of good cinema, may they work together repeatedly in future.

(For the author’s original review of Piku, click here)

10: Killa / Marathi

This has been a good year for films on children. What makes Ottaal, Kaaka Muttai and Killa stand out is that they are not condescending towards the little ones at the centre of their stories and they do not thrive on precociousness.

Killa is about a boy struggling with the loss of a much-loved father and the simultaneous pain of moving to a new town. It is a lyrical, slow-moving, ruminative film filled with moments of deep, deep affection and empathy between Chinmay, played by young Archit Deodhar, and his gutsy mother (Amruta Subhash).

The fine acting is complemented by Avinash Arun’s lovingly composed frames. This is Avinash’s first film as director, although he already has an impressive CV as a cinematographer that includes Nishikant Kamat’s Drishyam (No. 6 on this list) and the much-lauded Masaan that is not on this list only because 2015 has been such a wonderful time for quality Indian cinema that there has been a rush of films to choose from. Killa – written by the director’s FTII junior Tushar Paranjape – is one of the little gemstones in the year’s accumulated wealth.

This article has also been published on Firstpost:


Photographs courtesy:

(1)    Ottaal poster: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ottaal

(2)    Still from Court: Parull Gossain Associates

(3)    Kaaka Muttai poster: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaaka_Muttai

(4)    Dum Laga Ke Haisha poster: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dum_Laga_Ke_Haisha

(5)    Talvar poster: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talvar_(film)

(6)    Pathemari poster: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathemari


(8)    Papanasam poster: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Papanasam_(film)

(9)    NH10 poster: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/NH10