Rajeev Masand – movies that matter : from bollywood, hollywood and everywhere else

February 26, 2016

Cast: Manoj Bajpayee, Rajkummar Rao, Ashish Vidyarthi, Sumit Gulati, Dilnaz Irani

Director: Hansal Mehta

Aligarh, directed by Hansal Mehta, is based on the true story of Dr Shrinivas Ramchandra Siras, who was suspended from his job as a Marathi professor at Aligarh Muslim University after he was publicly exposed for being a homosexual. Two men barged into his home with cameras, filmed him in bed with his male lover, and the story was leaked to newspapers. Weeks later after his suspension was revoked following a court battle, Siras was found dead under mysterious circumstances.

The incident occurred six years ago, in 2010, but the film’s themes – the violation of one’s privacy, imposing one’s morality on others, intolerance, and society’s tendency to persecute the already marginalized – are as relevant today as ever.

Aligarh arrives at a crucial time when the conversation around Article 377 has gained momentum in the mainstream, and the contentious issue of criminalization of homosexuality is being vociferously debated at the highest levels. Yet the film itself is about more than just the ‘gay issue’. Mehta and writer Apurva Asrani offer a thoughtful exploration of what it means to be lonely and ageing, and an outsider for more reasons than one.

His hair and stubble greying, his shoulders drooping, Manoj Bajpayee beautifully imbues 64-year-old Siras with melancholic reserve. He’s a man content sipping whisky in his modest flat while a Lata Mangeshkar song fills the air. Siras writes poetry and is full of deep thoughts. He doesn’t like labels, and balks when he’s described as gay, insisting that his feelings cannot be summed up by a three-letter word. He isn’t looking for a fight when he’s unfairly suspended, but encouraged by activists he takes his case to court, keen to get his job and his home back, and his dignity restored.

Ashish Vidyarthi is terrific as the lawyer who takes up Siras’ case, vanquishing the public prosecutor determined to shame his client by arguing that it is unconstitutional to employ ‘morality’ to deny a person his basic rights. Yet it’s Rajkummar Rao’s charming portrayal of Deepu Sebastian, the intrepid young journalist who urges Siras to fight for his cause that is another of the film’s big strengths. Deepu is the perfect foil to Siras: a young, eager beaver, easily adaptable in an ever-evolving world. The two men form a tentative friendship, and their moments together are some of the best bits in the film. A scene in which they lunch together at a local restaurant is warm, even funny, and subtly reveals that no one is above prejudice…even victims of other people’s prejudice.

Aligarh is an important film, and it’s powered by sensitive writing, nuanced direction, and masterful performances from its central players. The image of Siras, a grown man blushing when he’s described as handsome, or when a gathering of gay men hail his poetry, stays with you long after you’ve watched the film. Its deliberate pace occasionally makes you restless, and you long to know more about Siras than the plot lets you in on. What kind of professor was he? Did he have any friends? How did his ‘shaming’ impact his family in Nagpur?

Crucially though, the tragic climax never pierces you in the manner that it ought to. The emotional wallop is missing.

Mehta eschews melodrama throughout the film, but in blunting this key moment in Siras’ story, the filmmakers deny the viewer a chance to bring one’s feelings to a boil. Sometimes a good cry is a way of saying I care.

I’m going with three-and-a-half out of five for Aligarh.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)

February 19, 2016

Cast: Sonam Kapoor, Shabana Azmi, Yogendra Tikku, Shekhar Ravjiani

Director: Ram Madhvani

There is no question Neerja will leave you with a lump the size of a golf-ball in your throat. Based on the tragic true story of 23-year-old airhostess Neerja Bhanot, who lost her life helping passengers escape from Palestinian terrorists on a hijacked Pan Am flight in 1986, this is a respectful tribute that pushes all the right buttons.

Working from a script by Saiwyn Quadras, director Ram Madhvani wastes little time in setting up the drama. In a middle-class residential colony in Mumbai, we’re introduced to Neerja (Sonam Kapoor) as she spends time with her doting family hours before she must leave for her flight. These scenes are intercut with the terrorists in Karachi obtaining and readying their ammunition as they prepare to storm the plane.

Even when the action moves on board the doomed Flight 73, the filmmakers keep us invested in Neerja’s life with her family. We learn, through flashbacks, how her parents (Shabana Azmi and Yogendra Tikku) supported her through a bad marriage. We’ve already seen, how they approve, almost wordlessly, of a new partner (Shekhar Ravjiani) who evidently makes her happy. We witness the anxiety that her job causes them, and their sheer helplessness on learning that her flight has been hijacked.

Madhvani creates a palpable sense of fear and foreboding in the scenes in which the armed terrorists take charge of the flight, often clashing among themselves. Using jerky handheld camerawork to establish urgency and claustrophobia in the narrow cabin, the filmmakers give us harrowing moments of tension and violence. Meanwhile, Neerja, summoning the strength that her father repeatedly pressed her to draw on, finds it within herself to stand up to the oppressors.

Sonam Kapoor, her sing-song delivery only reiterating the character’s young age, throws herself into the part, and aside from a few weak instances, successfully conveys Neerja’s inner journey from fear to finding courage under fire. The actress has never been better.

Expect to be fully moist-eyed in the scene following Neerja’s death, when her family receives the coffin bearing her corpse. Commendably Madhvani keeps it mostly silent, allowing the actors’ performances and the moment itself to shatter your heart.

Yogendra Tikku is perfectly cast in the role of Neerja’s father, effectively offering a glimpse into the welled-up emotions of a concerned parent. Shabana Azmi owns practically every scene she’s in, adding little realistic touches to make the character her own. Even in the film’s overlong climatic speech scene, which borders on the mawkish, she gnarls at your insides as she speaks about losing her daughter.

There are a few things, however, that don’t work. A badly placed song in the second half (even if only in the background) doesn’t serve well. Also you wish the film were tighter and crisper, particularly post interval. The feeling that you’re being manipulated – rather than feeling genuinely invested in what’s going on – pops up a few times too. But these are minor complaints in what is evidently a well-intentioned, heartfelt film that remembers a real hero.

I’m going with three-and-a-half out of five for Neerja. Don’t forget to carry a handkerchief; you’re going to need one.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)

February 12, 2016

Cast: Aditya Roy Kapur, Katrina Kaif, Tabu, Rahul Bhatt, Aditi Rao Hydari, Akshay Oberoi, Talat Aziz

Director: Abhishek Kapoor

Ambition and beauty occupy virtually every frame of director Abhishek Kapoor’s Fitoor, which is based on Charles Dickens’ 19th century novel Great Expectations. Shot exquisitely (by Anay Goswami) and mounted lavishly, the film unfolds leisurely in a seemingly timeless world.

Kapoor (who has co-written the film with Suprateek Sen) moves the story from Victorian England to snow-swept Kashmir, where nine-year-old Noor becomes instantly besotted with the snooty, aristocratic Firdaus the moment he sets eyes on her at the estate of her mother Hazrat Begum (Tabu). Although the children become close friends, Noor is repeatedly made aware that Firdaus is out of his reach.

Fifteen years later, now chiseled and frequently shirtless like an Abercrombie model, a grown up Noor (Aditya Roy Kapur), who has blossomed into a promising artist, lands a scholarship to an art residency in Delhi from a mysterious benefactor. Even as he’s experiencing his first brush with success, he meets Firdaus (now played by Katrina Kaif) again, and realizes she still makes his heart beat faster. But the knockout redhead keeps sending mixed signals, ultimately insisting on an icy distance between them as she prepares to marry a Pakistani politician (Rahul Bhatt) chosen by her mother.

I found myself completely invested in the story and the characters during the film’s first hour, but the screenplay isn’t as surefooted post-intermission. The tense political climate of Kashmir is merely referred to in passing, never exploited to serve the story in the way that, say, Haider did. In a clever scene that sadly never translates as powerfully as it was intended to, Noor chants a potent political slogan to allegorize the love triangle between him, Firdaus, and her Pakistani fiancée. Other than that it would appear that the film is set in Kashmir purely to milk its aesthetic beauty.

It’s in the second hour again that we come closer to understanding Hazrat Begum, who represents the fascinating Miss Havisham character from Dickens’ classic. Tabu is mercurial as the bitter, lonely old crone who sets Noor up for heartbreak, and her descent into madness is chilling. The writing isn’t always consistent – one moment she’s in a wheelchair attached to a drip, next thing she’s all perfectly coiffed and outfitted, showing up at a London art event – yet Tabu largely humanizes a character that has long slipped into caricature.

Crucially, the script makes an unnecessary digression into Begum’s flashback, which simply does not work for reasons of inappropriate casting and a clunky voice-dub. Those portions alone temporarily yanked me out of the film because of how unconvincing they were.

The key to remaining invested in Fitoor ultimately comes down to whether the lead pair works for you. As far as I’m concerned, I was pleasantly surprised. Aditya Roy Kapur is unmistakably earnest, and nicely brings out Noor’s wide-eyed sense of wonder and his boyish innocence despite being repeatedly manipulated. The stunning Katrina Kaif, for her part, often singled out as a weak link in movies, is a shrewd choice to play the impenetrable Firdaus. For a character whose motivations and mind are meant to be hard to read, she reflects that mystery convincingly. Her Anglicized accent still jars, but when called upon to throw herself into it – like a scene in which she confronts Begum – Katrina doesn’t disappoint.

Kapoor ditches many of the overarching social themes of Great Expectations to focus on what is primarily the story of star-crossed lovers and a complex romance. Fitoor isn’t perfect, but it’s a skillfully made film that’s easy on both the eye and the ear. In these times of fast-paced, hyperactive storytelling, you can appreciate the film’s dreamy, moody pace. I’m going with three out of five.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)

February 05, 2016

Cast: Sunny Deol, Narendra Jha, Abhilash Kumar, Soha Ali Khan, Tisca Chopra, Nadira Babbar, Om Puri, Ramesh Deo

Director: Sunny Deol

Very little has changed in the last two-and-a-half decades or so, if you go by Ghayal Once Again. This throwback to the better Sunny Deol films of the 90s (particularly those directed by Rajkumar Santoshi) is yet another one-man-against-the-big-bad-world saga, but the formula’s gotten well and truly rusty now.

The spoilt kid of a slimy businessman callously kills an upright activist, and his powerful father expends all his energy protecting the wayward son. It’s the oldest cliché in the book, but Deol, who’s co-writer and director here, fashions a sequel to Ghayal around this shopworn premise.

He also reprises his role as Ajay Mehra, who was packed off to prison for killing the man responsible for destroying his family in that film. Now the leader of a vigilante group, Ajay comes to the rescue of a group of college students who find themselves in a bind after they stumble upon video footage of that influential businessman’s son committing cold-blooded murder.

The ensuing drama is predictable stuff, but it’s powered by thrilling action scenes that genuinely get your pulse racing. A car chase between the students who’ve got the video and the villain’s henchmen who’re after it, is impressively staged. As is a foot chase between our leading man and a bad guy, which culminates in a brutal hand-to-hand duel in a train compartment. Action director Dan Bradley keeps the pace brisk, and Chandan Arora’s slick editing keeps you invested in the outcome of these breathless sequences.

The same, alas, can’t be said for many of the characters in Ghayal Once Again. Most redundant in the ensemble is Soha Ali Khan, playing Ajay’s kind neurologist who’s also involved herself in his vigilante activities. Narendra Jha is suitably intimidating as business tycoon Raj Bansal, but it’s a part that all caricature. “Poore shaher mein red alert announce kar do,” he barks to his political ally, practically frothing at the mouth in pursuit of Ajay Mehra.

Melodrama reaches fever pitch, particularly in the final act, when a corny twist is revealed. There’s also a shrill female character who gets a little too much screen time to ham it up to the hilt. As far as our hero is concerned, Sunny Deol can still land a punch, his commitment to the part never wavers, and he directs his actors competently. But he deserves a better script…and so do we. By the time he flies into the frame on a chopper in the film’s overlong climax, you’re at the end of your patience and you really just want the film to end.

Ghayal Returns isn’t unwatchable – far from it. But it’s old-fashioned and evokes a distinct sense of déjà vu. I’m going with two out of five.

(This review first aired on CNN-IBN)