SANTOSH*****

British-Indian writer-director Sandhya Suri (I IS FOR INDIA) has created a beautifully nuanced, quiet and disturbing film in her debut feature SANTOSH.  The film stars Shanana Goswami (RA.ONE) as the eponymous protagonist. She is a young widow with few choices: live with the in-laws who resent her love marriage to their wealthier son, or return home to her parents to a life of domestic labour.  Improbably, but apparently this really exists, thanks to a government scheme that allows low-income widows to take their husband's old job, Santosh becomes a policewoman instead. Imagine the sudden transition from powerless to powerful, with your own house, a uniform and the ability to abuse power just as the men do.

There is little time for such contemplation as Santosh is soon investigating the rape and murder of a Dalit/low caste girl - the very same girl that her chauvinist and caste-superior fellow policemen refused to look for when she went missing. In the eyes of her boss, the girl was "asking for it".  It comes as no surprise that the investigation is similarly corrupt, scapegoating the girl's muslim boyfriend Saleem. For a moment we think there might be respite when Santosh is paired up with an older, more experienced, and deeply impressive female cop called Geeta (Sunita Rajwar).  But as a near-final scene in a  diner will show, whatever narratives Geeta spins for herself, she is as enmeshed in the corruption and bigotry as everyone else.   Case in point: is she being magnanimous and self-sacrificing in her final act, or merely preparing herself for the greater corruption of politics?

I love this film for its spare script, strong performances and avoidance of outrage and easy moralising.  The women take bigotry for granted.  There are no pure saviour characters.  We do solve our case. But we cannot solve personal or societal corruption. Forget it, Jake. It's Chinatown.

SANTOSH is rated R and has a running time of 128 minutes. It was released in the USA over New Year and was released in the UK on Friday.

ALL WE IMAGINE AS LIGHT*****

I am very late to watching ALL WE IMAGINE AS LIGHT but I can confirm that all of the good things you heard are true.  Payal Kapadia's second feature is a beautifully observed, delicate, emotionally impactful story of three women who comfort and support each other in contemporary Mumbai.  They embody Durkheim's industrial ennui, unnoticed and under appreciated cogs in a brutal wheel of commerce and onward development.  This shows on their faces, darker-skinned than Bollywood heroines. In a funny and cathartic scenes they deface a billboard showing a shining vision of India's middle class dream - light-skinned and affluent.  Despite being professional women, this comfortable picture of a conventional family unit is something denied to them. Especially to Chhaya Kadam's Party who is desperate to save her home from developers when she has basically no property rights. 

But it is Kani Kusruti who anchors the film with her role as Prabha, an earnest small-town girl desperately lonely in arranged marriage with absentee husband.  Prabha's narrative arc will see her work through those frustrations and emotions with a touch of magic realism. It's no surprise that this happens when she is away from the City and grounded in village life.

Prabha is shocked at her friend Anu (Divua Prabha) an affair, but Anu's sex positivity is a breathe of fresh air in contrast with Prabha, as well as her ability not to over-complicate having an affair across religious lines in Modi's India. It's also a breath of fresh air to see a woman being pleasured in any kind of cinema let alone Indian cinema.

ALL WE IMAGINE AS LIGHT has a running time of 118 minutes. It played Cannes, Toronto, Telluride and London 2024. It is available to stream.

SISTER MIDNIGHT**** - BFI London Film Festival 2024 - Day 8

SISTER MIDNIGHT is a strange, weird, mordantly funny, Indian arthouse film written and directed by Karan Kandhari. It stars Radhika Apte as a young bride called Uma who spends her claustrophobic days in the small shack she shares with her shy and bewildered husband.  The feckless young couple are about as successful at coupling as the King and Queen in MARIE ANTOINETTE and Uma is singularly unsuited to being a housewife.

It’s not entirely clear when the film takes a turn into surreal fantasy but let’s just say that Uma’s unhappiness expresses itself physically in the most twisted and wonderful fashion.  But what raises the movie above mere comedy is that it shows how Uma finds companionship and solidarity from her fellow women - whether best friend Shitel or the local hijras. The message of the film is that men are simple fools, society is full of bigots, but there is solace in sisterhood and self-acceptance.

I loved everything about this film - from its Western and Indian needle drops - to its precise framing and camera movements (very Wes Anderson) - its sparse script - and its hilarious and fearless lead performance from Apte. Kudos to all involved.

SISTER MIDNIGHT has a running time of 110 minutes.  It played Cannes and London 2024. It does not yet have a commercial release date.

HEERAMANDI: THE DIAMOND BAZAAR (TV) ****

 

Sanjay Leela Bhansali is an Indian auteur who specialises in lavish, big-budget costume dramas that feature stunning women in beautiful outfits singing heart-rending songs that Bhansali also writes. He is the Indian director as indulgent maximalist, though without the stunning landscapes of, say, a David Lean. Rather, Bhansali's control extends to creating huge sets in which his dramas are encased, lending them a claustrophobic, artificial air that often matches their narrative themes. This is nowhere more true than in his first TV series, HEERAMANDI.

Heeramandi may translate literally as The Diamond Bazaar, but subcontinental viewers will know it as the name of the red light district of Lahore, now in post-partition Pakistan.  But western viewers should banish any image of streetwalkers and take Geisha culture as their context. The madams of these opulent brothels train young girls in classical poetry, dance and music in order to seduce long-term aristocratic patrons or Nawabs. As such they form a triad of dependence with those Nawabs and the ruling British.  The Nawabs support the British because the British guarantee their lavish lifestyle and privilege relative to ordinary Indians.  And in turn the Nawabs financially support the courtesans of Heeramandi.  

The great irony of the series is that while the courtesans become politicised, they are essentially ending their own profession. Without the British there will be no Nawabs or patrons, and we know from history that many of these artists did end up as common prostitutes to survive. The gilded cage may be brutal - love cannot guarantee escape, and these woman are effectively slaves - but perhaps that is safer than life beyond it.

The series takes place in the 1920s and its two warring protagonists mark the contrast between tradition and modernity. Manisha Koirala (DIL SE...) is stunningly cruel as the traditional madam, Mallikajaan. She is a supremely successful businesswoman precisely because she rejects all sentimentality, even when it comes to her own family. Her antagonist is Fareedajaan, played by DABANG's Sonakshi Sinha. Sinha is very much a creature of the 1920s in her dress, hairstyle and even how she entertains, with cocktail parties rather than mujhras. Both actresses deliver outsized, high camp performances as selfish and successful woman, exploiting Nawabs, the British and their own family members alike. 

The tragedy plays itself out with the younger generation of courtesans. Richa Chadha (GANGS OF WASSEYPUR) is heartbreaking as Lajjo, a courtesan betrayed by her patron and self-medicating with alcohol and delusion. The role of the heartbroken and betrayed courtesan is a trope in Indian cinema, and Bhansali's exploits the viewers' familiarity with it to add layers of pathos. 

And then there is the political awakening of Bibbojaan (Aditi Rao Hydari) who uses her training in seducing men to provide information for the revolutionaries and ends up echoing the iconography of Nargis in Mehboob Khan's MOTHER INDIA.

Where the show is weaker is in its love story. Bhansali's niece Sharmin Segal is a lacklustre screen presence as the thinly written poetess Alamzeb.  Her love story with the Nawab's nephew is rather feeble and by the numbers.  Similarly, the British characters are all caricature baddies.  Characters become political and bury hatchets on a whim.  But all this can be forgiven as we gaze at the stunning outfits and puzzle over the inherent tension between the self-titled "Queens" of Lahore exerting power within their gilded cage, but ultimately being brutalised by the system they claim to run.

HEERAMANDI: THE DIAMOND BAZAAR was released on Netflix on May 1st.

THE ARCHIES**

Zoya Akhtar's Indian adaptation of the Archie comics is a strange beast.  One assumes that these comics are aimed at kids, and apparently they were very popular in India in the sixties. But why then do we have a film that seems neither aimed at kids nor at adults?  On the one hand, we have pantomime villains and heroes and an entirely sexless love triangle. On the other hand, Akhtar is trying to say something about the unique position of the Anglo-Indian community in a post-Independence India. None of it hangs together.  The film might have been saved by wonderfully catchy songs, but the songs are trite and unmemorable with bizarrely statically shot dance sequences.  And as for the performances..... Much has been made of the fact that Zoya Akhtar (herself a "nepo baby") cast three scions of major Hollywood dynasties in lead roles. Archie himself is played by Agastya Nanda, grandson of Amitabh Bachchan, and his love interests are played by Suhana, daughter of Shah Rukh, Khan and Khushi, daughter of Bonny, Kapoor.  None of them can act (yet?) but if I had to rank them, Khushi seems to have the most talent, followed by Suhana then Agastya. Maybe it's just the thin characterisation giving them nothing to do.

So what is there to like about this film? I genuinely liked the prologue where we get the history of the Anglo-Indian community and something of their culture. This isn't something we ever see in mainstream Indian cinema.  I liked the production design and beautiful rendering of the interiors. I felt a sense of place in Riverdale and its central Green Park and independent stores, and peril that this would be demolished to make way for a mall. In other words, I liked the background, but not the plot or action.

THE ARCHIES has a running time of 141 minutes. It was released on Netflix last December.

DEAR JASSI*** - BFI London Film Festival 2023 - Official Competition - Day 5

Tarsem Singh's latest movie is a hard-hitting true crime story that sheds light on the phenomenon insultingly known as Honour Killing. Based on a famous and now rather historic case, this important film shows us how the Indian diaspora has taken its cultural norms to its new host nations, both the good and the bad, and seen the latter calcify into something unbending and ruthless. (I know whereof I speak here, as a second generation Punjabi immigrant in England). 

The first hour of the film is a sweet, earnest and almost naive love story between Jassi and Mithoo. The former is a Canadian citizen, living an outwardly wealthy modern life, but we can tell from her home set-up that her family is still incredibly traditional and controlling. They live in a multi-generational joint family, where even the married adult children do not establish themselves as independent, and Jassi is dropped off and picked up from work, her pay packet taken by her parents.  On her annual vacation she goes back to family relations in northern India who are similarly controlling. Her cousin Santo is not allowed to date either. But despite all of these restrictions she still manages to meet and fall in love with a handsome Kabbadi player called Mithoo. The problem is that her family will never approve of her marrying "beneath" her to a lower caste uneducated poor boy.  

The second hour of the film becomes far darker as the naivety of the young lovers is met by the intransigence of her family. This gives the film more energy and narrative drive.  The first half is sometimes cloyingly slow-paced. We are as desperate as Jassi for Mithoo to do something. But the second half of the film is a Kafka-esqe world of immigration rules coupled with the highest stakes of whether the couple can be reunited.  I won't spoil the events if you are not familiar with them, or cases of this type. Suffice to say that Jassi's big mistake is to go back to India where bribes allow her family to act with impunity. This is not to say that there aren't horrific acts of violence against Asian girls in Britain, but clearly justice is even more corrupt over there. 

I am full of praise for Tarsem Singh both in his tenacity for bringing this important subject to the screen but also in the way in which he handled it. We get his beautiful trademark visuals, helped by DP Brendan Galvin, but there is a restraint in what they are showing and how. This is not touristic magisterial India but everyday rural Punjab in all its beauty but also its run-down ramshackle chaos. Without spoiling it, the way he handles the pivotal final scenes is masterful and searing but never exploitative.

DEAR JASSI has a running time of 132 minutes. It played Toronto and London 2023.

JAWAN (SOLDIER)****

Shah Rukh Khan returns to our screens with a social justice / revenge thriller / action movie that's one part Count of Monte Cristo, one part Dark Knight Returns, one part Charlie's Angels and one part Expendables.  Directed by Tamil cinema wunderkind Atlee with knowing references to martial arts and Western action classics, the resulting film delivers action set pieces to rival anything in the Western canon, and showcases the full range of Shah Rukh Khan's talents. It also admirably draws attentions to the structural injustices and corruption in contemporary India. That said, it falls down on the lack of chemistry in the central romantic relationship, the lame musical numbers, and the rather retrograde gender politics.

Shah Rukh Khan stars as a masked vigilante with six female sidekicks who robs the rich to both give to the poor and raise awareness of their plight. While the police might crow that they want to see the women in prison, the joke is that they already are. We learn that their crimes were justified by social injustice and that Shah Rukh Khan is actually their prison warden, Azad. And while they rail against systemic injustice in all its forms, it becomes clear that Azad's real nemesis is a weapons dealer called Kaalee Gaikwad (Vijay Sethypathi). Meanwhile, in a real life totally unnecessary sub-plot, Azad is being set up for an arranged marriage with - natch - Narmada (Nayanthara), a police hostage negotiator, and her cute little girl Suji.  

The plot is genuinely complicated and full of twists that really surprised and satisfied me.  The slow reveals of multi-generational injustice are very well done, and even the trailer to this film was a superb misdirect. So kudos to all of the writing team.  The action set pieces are also absolutely fantastic.  The choreography and shooting style, whether in the hand to hand combat or big vehicle chase scenes, are superlative.  There are some great stylistic twists on classic set-ups, like when someone drops their gun and it ends up wedged in a lorry's windscreen, alerting the bad guys to the good guys' presence.  I also really loved the Indian Expendables using decidedly old-school tricks to foil a plot and would gladly see a spin off of these old rogues careering around on motorbikes dispensing justice A-team style. I also loved the occasional flashes of humour, particularly in that Expendables aspect. There are some fantastic one-liners here.

I also really loved the fact that the film is progressive in its politics. It's quite radical that Narmada is a single mum and that this isn't held against her by Azad. In Modi's India it's probably quite radical to show a band of special forces fighters that are as racially and religiously diverse as India. It's also quite radical to see Atlee show so clearly the social injustices of contemporary India - the heavy financial burden and consequent suicides of Indian farmers - the shocking health divide between public and private hospitals - the ongoing toxic pollution from factories, nearly four decades after Bhopal - businessmen buying off politicians and directly buying votes - dodgy public procurement resulting in shoddy goods and the loss of life. 

Most of all, the final speech that Azad gives to the Indian nation is deeply radical, and not least because Shah Rukh Khan - a Muslim married to a Hindu - is giving it.  He tells them to use their finger to vote wisely (in a nation where you press the screen on an electronic voting machine) - to question what politicians will do for them rather than just voting along religious or caste lines. It strikes me that this is a powerful and simple message rather at odds with Modi's message of religious and caste separatism and exclusion. I applaud Khan for being able to make such speeches in the heightened politicised atmosphere in a Bollywood where "cancel culture" doesn't even begin to cover it. And where his own position as an example of a successful diverse family is not welcomed by large sections of society.  That said, how does he square the antagonist being an arms dealer with his lauding Sanjay Dutt in a cameo role, given his real life implications in weapons dealing? Or is the line that Dutt was himself the victim of corrupt politics? Either way, it's good to see Sanju back on screen after his fight with lung cancer.  It's a great cameo.

On the negative side of the scale, there's still a rather regretful social conservatism that pervades the film, in contrast to the more thorough going radicalism of ROCKY AUR RANI. There's something rather retrograde about the Charlie's Angels concept - a bunch of super smart talented women waiting to take orders from their Chief. And let's not forget that the central beef is really one between men - Azad vs Kaalee Gaikwad. The woman are kind of incidental to this. We even see this played out in the song lyrics that have Shah Rukh Khan singing about "being a man among men" in a scene set in a women's prison. Laughable.

The other two things that really let the film down are the music and the romantic relationships.  Anirudh Ravichander's score is obvious, unimaginative and the big song and dance set pieces are really lame. There's not a memorable tune among them, the choreography is super-basic, and the costumes are also cheap. It takes a lot to make someone as beautiful as Deepika Padukone look ordinary but somehow this film manages it. What makes it worse is the way the songs are spread (or not spread) through the film. For instance, in the first half we open with two absolute banger action scenes, and then bring the momentum to a halt with two lame songs.  Even worse, the only tune that's remotely memorable is stuck over the end credits where in the cinema I was in the lights were already on and people leaving. D'oh.

Finally, while the female lead actress Nayanthara is beautiful she has zero charisma on screen, and certainly zero chemistry with her much older male counterpart Shah Rukh Khan. I wonder if part of the reason is that she's used to acting in a different language?  The problem with Nayanthara is only made more obvious in contrast with the chemistry between Khan and Padukone and the latter's obvious ease on screen. It's because of her character Aishwarya that we feel the film has a heart, and her central scene is the only one that actually moved me to tears, despite almost every character having that one glycerine teardrop down their right cheek at one time or another.

Still, for all its flaws, JAWAN remains compelling.  You're unlikely to see better action set pieces in Indian cinema this year, and maybe - bar MI7 - in cinema full stop.

JAWAN has a running time of 169 minutes and is rated 15. It went on global release on September 7th.

WHILE WE WATCHED*****

Vinay Shukla (AN INSIGNIFICANT MAN) returns to our screens with the deeply depressing, profoundly moving, and sadly globally relevant documentary, WHILE WE WATCHED. 

This is a film about the death of independent journalism in Narendra Modi's India, told by focussing on the NDTV anchorman Ravish Kumar. Kumar stands for an idea of India that has been under attack for years now. One of an independent judiciary and media holding politicians and criminals to account.  An India that embraces its diversity and does not confuse confidence with nationalist arrogance.  

Over the film's running time we see Kumar struggle to speak truth to power as his journalists and producers are laid off or leave for other positions, frustrated and underpaid and uncertain for their future.  Kumar is subject to a torrent of abuse and violent hatred. The state takes to blocking the signal of his transmissions. The owners of the channel are arrested and subjected to lawsuits accusing them of being financially fraudulent.  We leave Kumar after yet another sweeping Modi electoral victory, depressed, frustrated, considering his future, nervous at the way in which young journalists look to him for inspiration and courage, knowing he will have to make a choice between journalism and keeping his job.

The documentary crew filmed Kumar between 2018 and 2020, and we know that after that the state pressure on NDTV increased, banks withdrew credit, advertisers ran, and its owners finally just selling out to a Modi crony billionaire, Guatam Adani. Ravish Kumar resigned shortly thereafter and now broadcasts from YouTube. He, and others like him, have thus been deplatformed. The question is whether they can keep some kind of influence via social media. I fear not.   

For anyone interested in contemporary India, this film is essential viewing. That said, given the global trends toward nationalism, populism, an increasingly shrill and partisan media, and the increasing violence toward journalists, I would argue it is essential viewing for any citizen of any country.

WHILE WE WATCHED has a running time of 94 minutes. It played Toronto 2022 and was released in the UK last month.

GHOOMER****

The underdog sports movie genre gets a new entrant with GHOOMER - a must-watch film for cricket fans. The stunningly beautiful Saiyami Kher stars as Anina, a hard-working, talented batter who is the victim of a hit-and-run car accident on the eve of making her debut for the Indian ODI team.  Anina survives but without her right-arm, and understandably becomes suicidal at the thought of losing her cricket career. This is where Abhishek Bhachchan's alcoholic, brutish, Paddy steps in.  He too was frustrated by injury and lost his Indian test career, and tells Anina she can indeed rescue her career by retraining as a left-handed spin bowler (ghoomer).  He trains her himself, with brutal, harsh methods that nonetheless work and lead to a deeply emotional, rousing finale. 

What I like about this film is that it by and large avoids schmaltz in every aspect except the final cricket scene. Anina is strong and largely silent, and we see the hard work taken to retrain.  The love story with her childhood sweetheart (Angad Bedi) is downplayed and his character is very much seen as a side story to her rehabilitation and success.  Anina's dad is proud and supportive but it's her sensible and intelligent grandma (Shabana Azmi - deadpan, superb!) who is her real coach, mixing her smoothies, scoring her matches and telling her not to trust in superstition.  And thank goodness the film does not attempt to give Paddy a redemption arc, or to hide his unpleasant, brutish character.  This is not just in respect to Anina but also to Rasika (Ivanka Das), Paddy's adoptive trans sister.  He isn't nice. He doesn't become nice.  He doesn't magically get sober.  The focus of our interest and emotion is thus Anina and if I cried at the final fifteen minutes of this film it was entirely in admiration of her strength and courage, as portrayed by Saiyami Kher. And that's as it should be.

While Kher is clearly the breakout star here, and Azmi is the the backbone of the film, I have to say that this is Bhachchan's finest performance since GURU. I would love to see him tackle more challenging, dramatic material not he back of this. 

The resulting film is one that is a must-watch for cricket fans, and indeed comes complete with endorsements from Tendulkar and a cameo from Bishan Singh Bedi. I can't imagine it would be easy to follow without some knowledge of the game.  But given that knowledge, how wonderful to feel so engaged in this truly inspiring fiction.

My only issue with the film is the way that Rasika's character is used to soften Paddy's character. Is it really fair to have our one trans character have no real life of her own other than to serve her brother, and show that he does have a sympathetic side?  Or maybe it's refreshing to see a trans character without her gender or sex life be the centre of the plot? Either way I was pleased to see the representation. 

GHOOMER has a running time of 135 minutes and is rated 12A. It was released globally on August 18th.

ROCKY AUR RANI KI PREM KAHANI*****

ROCKY AUR RANI KI PREM KAHANI (Rocky and Rani's love story) is everything we expect from a Karan Johar film. It's a multi-generational family dramedy with broad laughs, beautiful clothes, wonderful music, and moments that genuinely make you cry.  But more than that, this is a movie that is daring in its surface message of progressive inclusion, and even more radical in its meta-message of queer acceptance. 

On the surface, this is a typical Karan Johar multi-generational dramedy. Rocky Randhawa (Ranveer Singh) is the scion of an incredibly wealthy Delhi family that is traditional and Punjabi (North Indian). He is a flamboyant, luxury-label obsessed, gym-obsessive who speaks broken English, and whose father bribed his teachers for his grades. The family is run by the frighteningly strict matriarch Dhanlaxmi (Jaya Bachchan) and her equally fearsome son Tijori (Aamir Bashir). Tijori's wife Poonam (Kshitee Jog) is servile and their daughter Gayatri (Anjali Anand) is mocked for being overweight. 

Contrast this to Rani Chatterjee (Alia Bhatt), a deeply intellectual, American-educated news-anchor whose Bengali family are cultured, bohemian and socially progressive.  Her mother, Anjali (Churni Ganguly), is the breadwinner and a university professor. Her father Chandan (Tota Roy Chowdhury) is a male classical Indian khatak dancer.  Her grandma Jamini (Shabana Azmi) recites poetry at recitals in their house. They are so progressive that her father can happily discuss why Rani's relationship with Shomen broke up - he was a bad lover. 

Chance brings Rocky and Rani together. Rocky's beloved grandfather (Dharmendra) is suffering from dementia and Rocky thinks that if he tracks down the women he once had a love affair with - Jamini - this might trigger his memories.  At first Rani mocks Rocky for his ignorance and crass personality but they soon start their own affair, just as the grandparents are also reconnecting.  

The first half of the movie is basically the two realising that they do have genuine feelings for each other despite their cultural differences.  The second half of the movie sees them move in with each others' families to see if those differences can be overcome. Can the cultured Chatterjee's help Rocky become more progressive while also becoming less snobby themselves? And can the Rhandawas accept a daughter-in-law who speaks her mind, speaks English, and doesn't cover her head?

So far so rom-com with a side-order of melodrama. What elevates this film about the norm is its surface message of progressive inclusion.  Rocky gives a powerful speech about feeling judged by the Chatterjees for his poor English - a real issue in India given that most education is private and language can be interpreted as denoting class. Mrs Chatterjee gives an amazing speech about how Indian men use the language of "honour" to disguise misogyny, and that they might sing lewd songs about what's behind a sari blouse (chola ke peetchay kya hai?) but are too embarrassed to utter the word brassiere. Most powerfully, Mr Chatterjee gives an amazing speech describing his joy at dancing Khatak but also the incredible mockery he has faced his entire life because of it. 

I commend the (now) openly gay director Karan Johar for including this material. Even more, I commend Ranveer Singh for undercutting his hyper-masculine image and partnering with the supremely talented dancer Tota Roy Chowdhury in dancing the khatak inspired and iconic Dola Re song from Devdas.  Just as the evil matriarch mockingly laughs behind her scarf, I can imagine many viewers doing the same. For Ranveer Singh to show this kind of allyship is powerful and explodes the hypocrisy of an Indian Bollywood culture where it's totally fine and not at all queer for straight men to wax their chests and dance around to Bollywood songs, but heaven forfend they do classical dance, which is still seen as the province of women.

Indeed, one can take this radical message one step further. I would argue that ROCKY AUR RANI is really a film about questioning gender roles and sexuality, and for a less toxic masculinity. After all, when you think about it, we have come a loooong way from Johar's 2001 film KABHI KUSHI KABHI GUM. In this film both families are run by financially dominant women, with Jaya Bachchan taking the evil patriarch role that her real-life husband Amitabh took in KKKG. And in the current generation it is Rani and Rocky's sister Anjali that are smart and earning a living, while Rocky is just a nepo-baby.  

In both families the patriarchs are criticised for a love of the arts that is somehow seen as not masculine enough in India's toxic hyper-masculine culture. Rocky's grandfather was scorned by his wife Dhanlaxmi for his love of poetry, and she kept their son Tijori from spending time with his father for fear that somehow this anti-masculine behaviour might be contagious! By contrast, Rani's mother and grandmother have stood by her father and his love of the arts, but his father beat him for dancing.  Maybe it's because we all know Karan Johar's real-life journey of self- and societal acceptance that I think we can read this entire storyline of what it would be like to come out not as a khatak dancer but as a gay man in India today.

The resulting film is one that wears its politics as well as its heart on its sleeve, but remains entertaining throughout. Pritam's songs are fantastic and the choreography, outfits and sets are wonderfully over the top.  In particular, I love Manish Malhotra's brightly coloured chiffon saris for Alia Bhatt's Rani, and Ranveer Singh brilliantly self-parodies his real life image as a fashion obsessive as Rocky.  Karan Johar expertly uses the iconography of DEVDAS in his pivotal khatak scene, and my only real criticism is the heavy product placement for a certain music back catalogue's hardware in the grandparents' reminiscence montage. As for scene stealers - well it's lovely to have Dharmendra and Shabana Azmi back on the screen, although I could have done without Jaya Bachchan's two-dimensionally-written evil grandma.  I think it's actually Anjali Anand as Golu/Gayatri who really steals the show with a late movie singing scene that cracked me up. 

ROCKY AUR RANI KI PREM KAHANI has a running time of 168 minutes plus an interval. It is rated 12A for infrequent strong language, moderate innuendo, sexual violence references.

AK VS AK

Anil Kapoor is the real life ageing former "hero" of Bollywood, scion of a famous acting dynasty and most famous for his role as Mr India in 1987. Think Bollywood's Tom Hanks, married forever to his wife, with two lovely kids. Anurag Kashyap is the self-styled Tarantino of Bollywood - the young upstart crafting gritty sweary gangster dramas - scion of no particular family with a car-crash personal life. 

This hilarious, smart, kinetic mockumentary begins with Kashyap insulting Kapoor as a has-been at a film-festival, resulting in a social media furore and his career nosediving. A year later, Kashyap decides to extract his revenge by kidnapping Kapoor's real life daughter Sonam and giving Kapoor till sunrise to find her. He can't call the police; he can't ask for help; all phone calls have to be on loudpspeaker; and Kashyap's camera has to capture it all. The result will be, per Kashyap, an amazing action thriller that catapults his career back to the A-list.

The result is one of the smartest, funniest thrillers ever made in India.  Kashyap perfectly portrays a kind of manic insanity and reminds us he's actually a very good actor as well as a pioneering director.  But it's Anil Kapoor who steals the show, shaking of his good guy image in numerous hilarious incompetent punch-ups with Kashyap. His real-life son Harsh Kapoor also gives a great cameo as an idiot fanboy describing his own potential action scene.

But there's a dark underside to this superb comedy-thriller.  It comments on the superficiality of selfie culture, with an increasingly beaten-up, bloody and desperate Kapoor being asked for selfies by seemingly oblivious fanboys.  And in the best scene of the film, a totally broken Kapoor is commanded to dance like a performing monkey, still bringing the crowd to cheering applause with a hit from 1987.  There's also a wry comment about the misogyny of Bollywood, but to discuss that is to spoil the superb end-reveal.

To be sure, you'll get more out of this film if you're cineliterate, and equally versed in Hollywood and Bollywood references.  Like Tarantino, Avinash Sampath's script is chock-full of knowing references. But Mr007 has no background in Bollywood and didn't know who either of the AK's were but thoroughly enjoyed the film on its own terms regardless. 

Highly recommended. 

AK VS AK has a running time of 108 minutes. It is streaming on Netflix.

THE WEDDING GUEST

The title might suggest mawkish rom-com, but indie British director Michael Winterbottom's latest film is an imperfect but still compelling road-trip thriller set in Pakistan and India. It stars Dev Patel (HOTEL MUMBAI) as a British psycho-killer paid to abduct the British-Pakistani bride at her wedding.  The twist is that she's in on the heist, not wanting to be married off to a suitable boy.  In fact, the whole thing has been concocted by her and her unsuitable Indian boyfriend, whose family handily run a jewellery store. The joy of a film like this should be in the double-crosses and power-plays, and while we get some of that, it's never cleanly enough delineated or carried out with enough conviction. Radhika Apte - so fantastic in the Netflix series SACRED GAMES - is once again the scene stealer in this film, playing the victim who's actually far more capable and wily than she might at first appear.  This is quite an achievement given that so much of her character is slippery - and her motivations unclear. In fact, I am quite sure that my version of what happens is squarely prejudiced by my view that no sensible woman could fall for someone as monstrously psychotic as Dev Patel's character. Sadly, his character is far less well drawn.  How is it that this boy who can't speak any Asian languages and doesn't seem that competent with a gun, is nonetheless very comfortable wheeling and dealing cars, fake IDs, and ruthlessly killing people?  It just doesn't really hang together, and I didn't buy Patel as an assassin. This isn't because he can't act - it's because the script doesn't give him enough.  

Other than the performances I really enjoyed the cinematography and production choice of being in the midst of real Indian locales, with real Indian extras. For example, the sheer authenticity of having an actual Rajasthani jeweller in his shop - or the mobile phone seller - adds up to a film that really takes the time to situate us in a reality despite the high concept plot.

THE WEDDING GUEST is rated R and has a running time of 96 minutes. The movie played Toronto 2019 and opened earlier this year in the USA. It is now on release in the UK in cinemas and on streaming services. 

HOTEL MUMBAI

Anthony Maras' directorial debut, HOTEL MUMBAI, is a beautifully handled thriller focusing on the Taj Hotel during the 2008 Islamist terrorist attacks on Mumbai. As so many others, I watched the events unfurl in real time on the TV, and in general I think it's better to approach such topics in documentaries. Fictionalised attempts can feel cheap or exploitative. Which is not to say that this movie entirely avoids kitschy moments. There's a very heavy handed point made about how a Sikh can be mistaken for a muslim by a racist white posh woman.  There's an even worse O Captain My Captain moment when the staff of the ultra-luxe hotel volunteer to stay back and help the guests through the ordeal.  But other than those two very quick moments of cheap emotion, the movie actually handles itself with dignity, intelligence and empathy.

We begin as the terrorists come into Mumbai by boat, the soothing, seductive voice of their handler in their ears, telling them of the glory that awaits them, and how the infidels in Mumbai deserved no mercy.  His voice will be a persistent and sinister presence in the film, goaded the boys into atrocities, gloating at the overheard horror he has unleashed. It's chilling at the end of the film to learn that he's still at large.

We then see the train terminal attack reported on the news, and a particularly well constructed scene in the tourist cafe, so well choreographed as to be shocking, even when we know exactly what will happen.  But the majority of the action happens in the hotel. Ironically, it begins because the staff let in ordinary Mumbaikars fleeing the terror elsewhere in the city. The attackers come in with them.  

This is where the film really needs to weave together multiple strands, and it does so with aplomb. We have the front desk staff forced to call guests and make them let the terrorists into their rooms. We have the head chef and waiter (Anupam Kher and Dev Patel) guiding the guests into an exclusive and therefore well hidden VIP lounge.  We have Armie Hammer as an American tourist who has to get back to his suite to his baby and nanny.   And we have Jason Isaacs as a russian oligarch. Both of these men will become hostage targets. 

I thought this was an excellent film insofar as it was tense, well orchestrated but also even handed. We care about and spend as much time with the staff as with the western guests. We understand the pressures the cops are under.  And we even spend time with the terrorists while never crossing the line of making them sympathetic.  There's something so authentic and piercing about these guys who've never seen a flush toilet before, or tasted pizza, wreaking havoc in a luxury hotel - a world they are jealous of and feel excluded from - its sumptuous luxuries symbolic of the indulgences they claim to be against. And all the time, the evil voice, guiding them to murder. 

HOTEL MUMBAI is rated R and has a running time of 123 minutes. It played Toronto 2018 and opened in the USA in March 2019. It opens in the UK on September 27th.

MANTO - BFI London Film Festival 2018 - Day Three

Manto was a superb short story writer who lived in India, and then Pakistan, in the middle years of the last century.  Like COLETTE, his best works were in the short story format, and they shocked and scandalised with their honest depiction of sexuality, corruption and plain real life.  But where Colette's Claudine novels sold like hotcakes and made her and her husband the talk of Paris, Manto was sued for obscenity.  Moreover, his life was marred by the times in which he lived.  As a Muslim he found himself a persecuted minority in Bombay as racial tensions rise during partition. As a true Mumbaikar, he doesn't one to join his co-religionists and flee to the new nation of Pakistan. But when even his best friend - a Hindu film star called Shyam - in a moment of anger, swears he might even kill Manto in a mob, Manto finally decides to join his family in Lahore. At first he seems to fit right into the literary life around the Pak Tea House, but in this new impoverished country his earnings are slashed, he's once again tried for obscenity, and he sinks into alcoholism. It's a devastating portrait of a man ripped from the life he knew and loved, never truly at home after that, and maybe just as psychologically desperate as the hero of arguably his most famous story, Toba Tek Singh.

Nandita Das' new film of the MANTO story has much to recommend it. Most importantly, it stars Nawazuddin Siddiqui - the break-out star of Netflix's superb SACRED GAMES.  He shows both Manto's charisma and buoyancy in the literary debates of Bombay, but also his stubborn and unapologetic commitment to depict reality and his unravelling in Lahore. There's a particularly moving scene near the end of the film where he realises that his friend has not forsaken him, but is so far gone he cannot reverse his life. And so Manto's tragedy becomes yet another story of the blight of Partition. But so much more relevant because India still faces censorship today.  Just watch the Youtube interviews with the makers of SACRED GAMES, talking about how much swearing they could have because they were airing on a US streaming service! I feel Manto would've approved. The other thing struck me - and saddened me - was how Siddiqui plays characters in both SACRED GAMES and MANTO who are driven by, exploited by, their lives blighted by, religious violence between Hindus and Muslims.  Is progress even possible on these issues?

My criticism of this film is that it might be opaque for viewers unfamiliar with the history of Partition - or even with a sense of the coolness of seeing Rishi Kapoor in a cameo - or a passing reference to someone making Mughal-e-Azam.  More seriously, the film seriously loses pace when it reaches Pakistan - maybe a metaphor for Manto's career - but a fatal flaw nonetheless.

MANTO has a running time of 112 minutes. The film played Cannes, Toronto and London 2018.  It does not yet have a commercial release date. 

VICTORIA & ABDUL

Lavish costumes and location photography cannot help this thinly plotted, dull film with its anachronistic politics.  It takes what is a genuinely fascinating late life obsession of Queen Victoria with a handsome young Indian clerk and drains it of its spikiness and shoe-horns it into politically correct nonsense.  While still apparently in mourning for her long-dead husband Albert, Victoria had already conducted a scandalous romance with her Scottish servant Mr Brown (also depicted on film with Judi Dench as the Queen.) In her final decade, she took fancy (literally, creepily) to a young muslim Urdu-speaking Indian.  The spikiness of the relationship comes from its objectification of the young male, but also the fact that she used him to learn about the culture of her dominion which she had never visited. In reality, he was the fawning man we see on screen, but also potentially a chancer (as are all courtiers more or less). His brother in law was selling Victoria's jewels in London and he was using her to advance the cause of his father's pension.  Did Abdul really believe in deference and service or was he on the make?   Stephen Frears banal film never bothers asking the tough questions - about Victoria's frustrated sexuality and exploitation of Abdul - about Abdul's motivations - about the dangerous situation in India with the rise of the independence movement, and Abdul's potential role in gaining favour for the Muslim League.  It's only interested in an anachronistic tale of love across the class, race and religious divide.   Judi Dench's Victoria is thus a radically anti-racist Queen with an enquiring mind, embattled by her small-minded Royal Household, as embodied in her pantomime-villain son, Bertie (Eddie Izzard).  The whole thing is slow-moving, and so uncurious about motives as to be a profoundly boring watch.

VICTORIA & ABDUL has a running time of 111 minutes and is rated PG-13. The film played Venice and Toronto and opened in September 2017. 

THE HUNGRY - BFI London Film Festival 2017 Preview

I cannot think of a Shakespeare play harder to adapt for modern audiences than his early melodramatic and arguably absurd TITUS ANDRONICUS. It's an over the top bloody revenge play set in ancient Rome, with very little by way of character development or nuance, and even the language is poor by his standards. I didn't even bother watching Julie Taymor's adaptation (although this also had something to do with previous bad experiences with her work).  That said, I was intrigued by the idea of a new version of the play set in contemporary New Delhi. If ever there was a setting that could perhaps capture some of the corruption and familial super-loyalty that the play demands, perhaps India could provide it.  But I am sorry to say that while writer-director Bornila Chatterjee's film looks beautiful and has a fantastic score (DP Nick Cooke and composer Benedict Taylor) - even more impressive on a micro-budget - the film did not capture my attention.  

The first interesting thing is that Chatterjee and her co-writers - Tanaji Dasgupta and Kurban Kassam - choose to jettison Shakespeare's language. Fair enough, one might say, given that it's not his best work, but that decision further exposes the thinness and absurdity of the plot.  There's a lot of justified condensing of characters too - which should make things more straightforward - except that the non-linear presentation and sometimes strange editing choices make it hard to follow again. 

The basic plot is that Tathagat (Naseeruddin Shah - wasted) is a powerful and corrupt businessman. Two years ago he killed his business rival's son and is now set to marry his own feckless son to his business rival's widow Tulsi (Tisca Chopra - very good).  Unsurprisingly, Tulsi has not forgotten the circumstances of her son's suspicious death, and with a loyal sidekick decides to use the wedding as a pretext for some murderous revenge.  It all goes wrong from the start.  Tulsi's newly arrived son Charrag (Antonio Akeel) viciously attacks Tathagat's daughter Loveleen before the wedding. This prompts a hasty cover up and search and heightens the tension. And let's just say things get bloodier and more incredible from there. 

The problem with THE HUNGRY - and indeed with Titus Andronicus - is that it's very hard to care about any of the characters when there actions are so selfish and seemingly futile.  Sadly Chatterjee has not been able to solve the flaw in the original play, and none of her central performances are magnetic enough in their sadistic violence to captivate.  In particular, the attempt to shift the focus from Titus/Tathagat to Tamora/Tulsi fails because Tulsi - as written - is too unknowable, distant, alienating. Still, I really did love the way the film looked and felt - at its best it reminded me of the dreamy-sinister school fund-raiser scenes in BIG LITTLE LIES - and I can't wait to see what Chatterjee does with more malleable and profitable subject-matter and a bigger budget. 

THE HUNGRY has a running time of 100 minutes. It played Toronto 2017.  There are still tickets available for the screening at the BFI London Film Festival 2017.

SHORT FILM AWARD PROGRAMME 1 - BFI London Film Festival 2017 Preview

The following short features are  showing as part of the BFI London Film Festival Short Film Award Programme 1.  Tickets are still available for both screenings.

THE RABBIT HUNT opens at sunrise on a beautiful landscape shot of Pahokee, Florida, before we cut to a factory belching out steam, and then to a large extended family preparing for some kind of excursion in near blinding sunlight.  A sugarcane field is set on fire and the smoke obscures the landscape and in its ruins the family catches wild rabbits, stringing them up onto their belts.  We then see the rabbits skinned and cooked and sold, making this an inappropriate film for the faint-hearted or vegetarians. (Conversely, meat eaters should not watch this hungry as those rabbit thighs dripping in hot sauce look SO good!)  Patrick Bresnan's 12 minute is beautiful shot and framed, and does what all great documentaries do - it takes into the heart of something obscure that we would't otherwise have a chance to see, understand or be provoked by. I look forward to seeing his feature length treatment of the same locale, now in post-production.

GODDESS/DEVI is set in contemporary Bengal and starts in the midst of a foul-mouthed fist-fight as men cruelly taunt a woman for being gay. The girl in question - Tara (Aditi Vasudev) - is picked up by her disapproving mum (Tanvi Azmi) and brought home to the sounds of cheesy Bollywood songs with their promise of everlasting heterosexual romance.  Once inside the confines of the house, we realise that Tara is attracted to Devi (Priyanka Bose) - the maid - and these feelings are reciprocated.  However, the mother's interruption provokes so many questions that are brilliant left ambiguous by director Karishma Dube.  This 13 minute movie is outstanding insofar as it contains a fully developed, provocative story with nuanced characters within its short running time.  By the end we aren't sure if Tara's feelings really were genuine or whether she just didn't have enough courage to defend Devi.  Is she just as bad as her mother, who summons a new maid with a portable door bell, and idly eats her breakfast as she washes the steps?  What does it say about contemporary India that the rich speak to each other in English and address the poor in a different language.  Has Tara unwittingly taken on this proprietary attitude?  I could talk about this film for far longer than its running time and that speaks to its richness.

MARTIN PLEURE/MARTIN CRIES is a devastatingly dark tragicomic 16 minute film from director Jonathan Vinel about a teenage boy who wakes up one day to find all his friends have disappeared.  It's filmed as a kind of contemporary video game, opening with the guy kicking the crap out of his bedroom, and then taking out his frustration in a variety of game levels to rap music.  The most brilliant part about this film is how one realises from little clues, like the avatar like names of the friends, the fact that they somehow evaporated, the activities that they did together, that Martin is a kind of character inside a kind of Tron.  It's ambiguous as to whether he's the avatar of a real-life kid who's been ghosted by other online players. Or whether he's an AI with no-one to play with any more. Either way this is a beautifully imagined and slipper film with all kinds of strange implications for the nature of modern "friendship" and alienation.  It's frightening and bizarrely affecting and believable.

THE ARTIFICIAL HUMORS /OS HUMORES ARTIFICIAS is a delightful film by Gabriel Abrantes (A BRIEF HISTORY OF PRINCESS X) about an AI robot called Andy Coughman (geddit?!) who is being programmed by his maker to be a stand-up comedian.  While researching facial reactions to humour Andy falls for a young indigenous girl and that relationship continues to blossom when she smuggles herself to Sao Paolo to escape her strict family.  Once there, Andy continues his "sentimental education" but a bout of reprogramming plus social media fame distracts him from his true love.  She is left behind by the modern world, and her opportunities are muted - so what does it say about us and her family that the most attention and love she receives is from an AI? Provocative but also sweet, the longer-running time of 29 minutes is well used. 

AZMAISH: A JOURNEY THROUGH THE SUBCONTINENT - BFI LFF 2017 Preview

AZMAISH: A JOURNEY THROUGH THE SUBCONTINENT is a searing, provocative and deeply relevant documentary about the demise of liberal humanism in India and the rise of the Hindu-fascism.  It contrasts this with the parlous state of Pakistan - a failed state dominated by an uneasy balance of militarism and Islamism that didn't even have the luxury of decades of Nehru-ism that India at least benefited from.  Both countries now have a political discourse driven by discriminating against the Other, and are united in expressing this through the subjugation of women - an ironic commonality.  The brave documentary who chronicles this slide into extremism is Sabiha Sumar, a child of Partition who grew up in Pakistan with her father's memories of liberal India.  She takes her journey with Bollywood and arthouse actress Kalki Koechlin, as they move from articulate but petrifying dinner table conversations in Mumbai to feudal rural Pakistan. The over-riding conclusion is that India is wilfully throwing away its inheritance of liberal democracy in favour of Hindu populism, and they aren't afraid to point out that the ruling party has its own funded militant violent thugs, akin to the SS. And, as Kalki points out, if a new generation is raised in segregation, rather than in the diverse communities of the past, learning to hate from the cradle, "then we really are screwed".  By contrast, the  problems of Pakistan seem like a more acute version of the same - deep political corruption and an in-state terrorist organisation - the Taliban.   As I watched this brilliant and brave film, I kept thinking of all the parallels with the Europe and the USA today - not just the obvious populist vote for Trump - but the degradation of liberal discourse - as much from the Left as the Right.  A Hindu fascist argues in this documentary that critics of the new Indian government argue that the quality of discourse in parliament has gone down - but then that was only ever the discourse of the liberal elite and didn't reflect the concerns of the uneducated masses. We are seeing something of the same in the West today - the increased distrust of the learned expert, and the very institutions that underpin our democracy.  And in the segregation of communities into the vegetarian building or the Hindu building or the Muslim building aren't we seeing a reflection of the liberal Left's fight for "safe spaces" and the protests against dissenting speech on campus?  Apparently all diversity is good except diversity of thought.  In the closing moments of this film, the director also makes the link to the rise of populism in the West. And I wondered why there weren't more films addressing this in the LFF line-up and being thankful for this one. I've long since been petrified by the slide of India into extremism and finally we have a spotlight onto this vitally important issue.  That said, far be it for us to be complacent when we suffer from so many of the same problems. This is a must see movie.

AZMAISH: A JOURNEY THROUGH THE SUBCONTINENT has a running time of 85 minutes. The film played Toronto 2017.  Tickets are still available for one of the screenings at the BFI London Film Festival.

LION - BFI LFF 2016 - Day 9

LION is an emotionally intense human interest story that comes complete with lovely cinematography.  However, a straightforward structure, slack pacing and ho-hum soundtrack prevent it from being truly great, as opposed to a well-made tear-jerker.

The film is based on the memoirs of Saroo Brierley. He was born in a small north Indian town in the early 80s, but through a twist of fate was separated from his family and ended up on a train to Calcutta, 1600km away.  Unable to speak Bengali, or even knowing the name of his hometown, the boy becomes one of many homeless children, and only narrowly escapes a predator to end up in an equally brutal state orphanage. But a kindly social worker intervenes and arranges for him to adopted by a white Tasmanian family, where it appears that he lived a very happy childhood.  However, when Saroo goes to university he finally meets people from India, and this triggers a wave of memories and a desire both to find his birth family, but not to hurt his adoptive parents.  And so begins a needle in the haystack search for a faint memory of a train station with a water tank, without even knowing if he'll find his family at the end of it. 

BFI LFF 2016 Preview - AN INSIGNIFICANT MAN

AN INSIGNIFICANT MAN is a political documentary charting the transformation of Indian populist socialist activist Arvind Kejriwal from campaigner to mayor of India's capital city, Delhi.  It takes us inside the cramped offices where Kejriwal forms a grass-roots campaigning organisation from scratch, staffed by idealist young men (rarely women) who have quit good jobs, inspired by his anti-corruption stance.  At first, it doesn't appear as if he has a platform aside from lobbying for anti-corruption law, but he soon alights upon a manifesto of giving poor citizens free water and heavily subsidised electricity as vote-winners.  In doing so, he is helped by his fellow party founder Yogendra  Yadav.  Together, the party they form unseats the incumbent politician and as we leave Kejriwal he is basking in the glory of his people.  We learn in a triumphant final subtitle that he has made good on his promise to deliver water and cheap fuel.