Ralph's Neither For The Kids, Nor For GrownUps
None of the kids today have seen arcade games, so this whole concept of arcade game characters getting into the Net (literally) seems odd. There are moments of course, that make grown ups smile, make you feel overwhelmed with emotion, but they are so few and far between that you sort of pass out...
All is not lost movie nerds! There are enough references in the film to keep you from falling asleep. Enough self-deprecating jokes to keep you grinning into your popcorn and chuckling.
But this movie will drive the kids restless and whiny. There are too many conversations about life. And Sunrises. Why would a six or even an eight year old want to look at two animation characters talk about watching the Sunrise in real life versus life on the Net where the Sun does not set and it is neon lit all the time?
The best part of the movie is when Vanellope meets all the Disney princesses. Yes, it is better than the silly nerdy fan who asks a long-winded question to the character. All the Disney princesses are there, and the conversation is sparkling, brilliant actually. Who'd have thunk that Disney would laugh at themselves, with every princess needing to be 'rescued by a man' and that each princess discovers her mojo when staring at some sort of water.
The kids sitting in the row behind me were restless with all that talk, and they began to kick the seats in front of them (that's me) - one positively wailing when they saw the mean looking virus - and then crying when many Ralphs form one gigantic King Kong like gorilla, climbing on to a building with Vanellope in his fist.
There is more conversation about letting go that made me tear up, but out of emotion. But the kids were stuffing more popcorn in their mouths and wailing because they were bored.
Yes, I came away realising that we cannot hold on to people and that you have to let go of friends who want to live their own life that does not include you, and it broke my heart. But Ralph did not break the Internet.
For Journalists In The Thick Of War
Marie Colvin, the foreign correspondent with The Sunday Times died on the job to show us the horrors of war and to bare the truth that Assad's war is really on people - men, women and children - rather than armed militants. She was there for the truth. It's a film that makes you come home and read her reports and see the videos and pictures, and realise what cowards we are.
I never thought of myself as a coward. I know many journalists and activists who work with unpredictable politicians (and their goons) who could turn violent at any time. Journalists who have been threatened on social media with rape and murder. And I know women who work with at risk children, children who live in so much poverty, and crime they need that intervention from outside agencies, they need rescuing. I know women who work with really under-privilged children and educate them in order to help, create self-confidence, give them an opportunity to blossom.
Compared to these brave men and women I know, my life is pathetic. Boring almost. I watch movies for a living, and teach cinema and communication theory and cutural studies to media students. The biggest fear I face daily is the fear of being sideswiped by a car when I'm in an autorickshaw. It's a safe world.
That's why A Private War was tough to watch. Not because she was so gutsy, going out there and reporting, asking tough questions to Tamil Tigers and all that, but watching her question herself, her motives for wanting to being there amid the horror of tragedy, that drive which borders on insanity almost, that was a tough watch.
Marie Colvin was driven by something else. And she did not walk into danger because her 'back story' as movie call it was a tragic one and she needed to 'be a hero'. In fact Rosamund Pike who plays Marie Colvin in the film shows us that she was more human than the rest of us.
'This is not a bra, this is a La Perla!' she explains to her photographer, 'Imagine wearing bad underthings when they pull out my body from the rubble somewhere...'
We've read Cosmo too, but this was so unexpected from someone covering war, that it showed us that she was still a woman underneath the flak jacket.
Her recurring nightmares, her denial about PTSD, her need to get back to conflict zones are all beautifully balanced in the film. There is a Hindi word that describes this. It is called, 'Zid'. A cross between passion and obstinacy, between childishness and craziness, the word 'drive' does not come close to it. But you can experience it all in the film.
Of course the stories told in the film about the people whose lives are changed by conflict are just too real and you will want to avert your eyes away from the screen. Very few mainstream movies can do that to you. I was stunned and moved and shocked. But when I came back home, it made me look at Anderson Cooper's full interview with her on CNN on YouTube. It made me read the reports she had written from the war zones. It made me realise that every day there are brave, undeniably brave journalists who risk their own lives to show us the true face of war happening somewhere else while we go about our routines unaware of tragedies around us.
50 Ways To Kill A Toddler
What could happen if a two year old is at home with her mother? Nothing, unless the mom ODs on sleeping pills and then everything turns into an almost disaster for the child. An open balcony, a fridge, kitchen with knives, appliances, electrical sockets and more entice the child to certain death. Unfortunately, instead of the story, the headache inducing camera angles which can be best described as toddler cam offers unintentional horror. This simply exploits the kind feelings people have towards children. And fails.
It becomes an exploitative film when the filmmakers put a child in harm’s way, making everyone in the audience hold their breath. But when the film has nothing more than watching a two year old move from one part of the house to another where ordinary everyday things turn into a death trap because of creepy music.
Will It Be Caramel Or Cheese?
Is she going to slip when she’s trying to climb to up a reach a milk bottle? Or fall down just like her dolly off the balcony? You are forced to choose your favorite death trap while munching on mixed popcorn. Obviously they choose a wide eyed kid Myra Vishwakarma to make you feel that same feeling you get when you watch animals in distress but rescued videos on FaceBook. But the videos are less than three minutes long and you watch and are relieved when the rescuers arrive. This film goes on and on for over an hour and a half.
Anyone who has had a child will know that childproofing a home is the first thing you do when you bring a baby in the world. Starting with who buys glass milk bottles these days, you ask why is the iron still in the socket? This home looks like it was deliberately set out to be a disaster. Evil demons in usual horror movies will be insulted if you make it so easy to die.
Inspired By Videos Of Naughty Kids On The Net
Then the filmmakers watch more videos of babies who turn their homes into disaster zones and now take Pihu into the kitchen. Yes, the sitting in the fridge wasn’t cute enough. Of course the roti is going to burn, of course the flames are going to be on high and by now the supposed Shakespearean milk of human kindness in your heart is dry. You are bored beyond belief. You want the real life mommy (Prema Vishwakarma) who is pretending to be dead in the movie to be slapped hard for putting her child through such nonsense.
(This review appears on www.nowrunning.com)
This Ghat Story Is Gutless
Benaras has attracted all kinds of people to its ghats. Those looking for God and those looking for ganja. The film is full of quirky characters that attempt to build an exotic India. The focal point of these characters is Pappu’s tea shop where everything from lifestyle to politics is discussed. Sunny Deol plays a priest who is a stickler about tradition and the film shows how his breed is vanishing… If only the quirkiness wasn’t tiresome and the film offered something concrete to share with the world, this film would have worked.
The film opens with a wonderful piece of Indian classical music (a Dhrupad composition) that is an invocation to Shiva, the resident deity of Benaras. The starting credits say that a poem (rather political in nature) by India’s finest poet Kashinath Singh is included in the film. That is classy indeed, and one is forced to sit up and take notice. But it doesn’t take long for beautiful opening shots of the city waking up to descend into the commonplace when we see a smooth-talking motormouth tourist guide Ginni (played wonderfully by Ravi Kishan) pick up tourists from the railway station and bring them into town.
The film was stuck at the Censors for six years, and you soon know why: there is politics of the temple (a politically charged kindling if you talk against it), there is the unfortunate aftermath of the breaking down of the mosque at Babri (the hero believes sentiment about the birthplace of Lord Ram is more important that the law), and the rational beings discussing these things over tea are no longer relevant. The attempt to cling on to traditions is good, but the only way the film shows the new as bad is to show foreign tourists desperate for sex, show them throwing dollars at anything Indian, and Indians so greedy for money, they will lie and cheat and cook up schemes to satisfy their needs…
The banality of the events in these tourist trap places is horrifying. A character dressed up as the God Shiva (played by Daya Shankar Pandey) takes hundred rupees for posing with tourists and 200 if they should want a stream of water flowing from his hair. The hairdresser gathers information from people he shaves as to where a ‘foreign’ woman could find decent accommodation near the Assi Ghat (the Southernmost Ghat in the city, a famous landmark of Benaras, popular with tourists and worshippers alike). The cops hapless in front of the teashop regular, literally standing on a bench pontificating about how Bhang was not a drug, but a tradition of Benaras and a religious right, because Shiva consumed it…
By the time the story comes around to saying something, you are bored. Even though they use the local virulent word for ‘bastards’ as though everyone in the film was Samuel L Jackson. And that includes the women. It was not even funny to begin with, and then it gets tedious. You wonder why they chose Sunny Deol to play Dharam Nath Pandey, a traditionalist, a priest happy to teach Sanskrit to kids for a pittance. Though Sunny is adequate in the tough guy act, the language does him in. He has worked hard on the Sanskrit diction but the whole thing seems pointless in the end. Sakshi Tanwar is the stereotypical wife, praying to the Gods and cooking for the family. The end where the adamant Pandit has to accept the non Hindu Marlene as a paying guest in his home (and hence God has left him) brings back a new Shiva home… Everyone lives happily ever after is like a nothing burger.
The ensemble cast of Tiwari-ji, Upadhyay-ji, Chaturvedi-ji, Chaubey-ji and others are played by veteran actors Saurabh Shukla, Srichandra Makhija, Rajendra Gupta and Mukesh Tiwari. But all that posing and pontificating comes to nothing. Except that you do not wish to go anywhere near religion and righteousness in a film, ever.
(This review appears on www.nowrunning.com)
Written by Manisha Lakhe on November 8, 2018
Dregs Of Hindostan
It’s 1795 and the British are taking over Indian principalities mostly by cheating their way. In one such instance a young princess escapes with the help of a loyal servant, grows up and avenges the death of her parents. They introduce a cheat who double crosses not only the freedom fighters but also the English. The story is straight from the bottom of the creative keg, and they take 164 minutes to bore you to death. This attempt to pirate the Caribbean franchise fails so badly, it does not blow up, the audience kicks itself to death.
The single star given to this film is for having the chutzpah to sell such a ghastly idea to Yash Raj Films.
Imagine if the only reaction the film gets out of the audience is the gasp when Katrina Kaif displays her shimmery backside in a Dussehra number, and the rest of the time they are too bored to even crunch popcorn loudly. Let us count the cliche ridden story:
All British dudes are bad, and their Hindi is hilarious. Clive, the very bad British dude gives speeches about the ritual of killing Ravan every year in a desperate Anglicised Hindi. When did they start caring about Indian festivals? We know he is bad because he drank tea and said, ‘Is chai mein barood ki boo aa rahi hai!’ People got paid to write this!
And they wrote and they wrote for Aamir Khan to overdo the smart talker who betrays anyone for money. They wrote so much that Amitabh Bachchan (in chains, inside a prison) actually says, ‘Bol ke maaroge kya?’ (Will you kill us with so much dialog?).
Aamir Khan plays Firangi, a burro riding smooth talker who betrays anyone for the right amount of money. Obviously never short of surma, his exaggerated eye-popping act becomes annoying within minutes. But it’s an obvious ploy the audience can see from a mile. He infiltrates the good guys to betray them and the big good guy changes his heart. This is such a tired plot, you forgive them for putting Amitabh Bachchan in a character that is a cross of his Eklavya role mixed with Jhoom Barabar Jhoom character! This is what happens when an art director is allowed to run amok with costumes.
Of course the director is enamored with the idea of a donkey riding character, they even try and give him a little scrubbing effect on film that a DJ does when he scratches the vinyl back and forth. Three times in the introduction and I prayed that they did not do this every single time Aamir showed up on screen… Thankfully they forgot about this special effect. They had many to take care of… And horribly. The eagle that appear every time Amitabh Bachchan appears, the small burning boat that rams the big ship, the fires started by burning cannonballs, the rifle fires, the burning baddie, and of course the sets - the ships as well as the fort - look so fake you are reminded of the movies of yore when big rocks tumbling down would just bounce off because they were glorified craft projects…
So the Brits are cruel and ruling over Indians who mostly cower and hand over lagaan (I mean something like that) and there’s a bunch of freedom fighters called Azaad (yes, yes, we know it’s an idea that cannot die!), they hide all the way in Krabi and attack the Brits and steal their ships. A miracle they did not show the ships kept away as in Moana (Disney animation film 2016)… That they borrowed heavily from the Pirates of The Caribbean franchise is a given, but how badly, you have to see to believe it.
The princess Zafira (Fatima Sana Sheikh) grows up to be a country cousin to Bahubali’s princess Devasena who is awesome with bow and arrows. Thankfully she has little to show when it comes to acting, because she fails even when she avenges her parents. She blubbers into Amitabh Bachchan’s able chest, and we are saved from seeing bad acting. There goes trope of strong woman…
The other woman in this big production is Katrina Kaif who plays Suraiyya who dances and the Brits love her. So blah, you wish they had quietly slipped in a bald Sanjay Dutt nodding in approval to her ‘Chikni chameli’ redux, just to stir the audience. And as all paint by numbers movies have it, there’s a medicine woman who fixes Aamir Khan’s wound. I wished for Homer Simpson like epiphany (from Simpsons The Movie) from Aamir, but they missed that opportunity of overacting…
Khuda Baksh aka Amitabh Bachchan is given lots of opportunity to seethe and snarl and overdo it too. When they show him tied up to lethal looking contraption like Dharmendra in Sholay and Katrina dances her dussehra dance, you want to scream, ‘Basanti! In kutton ke saamne mat naachna!’ but this is not Sholay alas. There are more choreographed fight sequences danced to never ending music.
In the end the bad Brit dude meets his end, the fort is won back and is handed to princess, the bodyguard is still alive and the smooth talking chap escapes with the ship (which is self navigating in the computer generated seas). Of all things Katrina shows up as stowaway and demands that they steer the ship to Calcutta where she wants to buy a dupatta, if you please. That is all the audience can take. Thankfully. The great Indian pirated film is over.
(this review appears on www.nowrunning.com)
Written by Manisha Lakhe on October 26, 2018
A young, small town ambitious lad reaches Bombay with just one goal. To be noticed by and work with Shakun Kothari. And he rises to such instant money and fame that it takes one move by the master to bring the apprentice down. Or does he? This beautifully produced film falls flat on its face because it has very little substance. So many films to be inspired from - Wall Street to The Big Short and even Margin Call - and the story is like Gaflat Bollywood’s first attempt to make a film on the Stock Market scam. Should have gone straight to Netflix or Amazon, perhaps.
The production value of this film are high. They make you believe there are places in the city where the men’s restrooms are fancy enough to have conversations, that rich people in Bombay have swimming pools, that people are still using Blackberry phones, that the Jains chant the forgiveness chant ‘Micchami Dukhdam’ all the time instead of the last day of their holy month of Paryushan (like Lent), that the only way to get to Bombay from Allahabad is by a flight...
The rest, is a horrendous bunch of cliches: a small town chap making it in the big bad city, against all odds. That a gorgeous girl at work suddenly takes interest in the small town lad, gets hot and heavy with him and even falls in love with him. He’s so smart with the stocks that he falls for ‘tips’ that come his way and he is suddenly doing ‘insider trading’ without ever being an ‘insider’. Trouble is that we have seen such fabulous films like Margin Call, The Big Short and even the old but gold Wall Street, that we just cannot buy Rizwan Ahmad as someone with street smarts. In fact, this film has practically the same story as the Bollywood film called Gaflat, made on the scandal connected with Harshad Mehta.
It’s hard to swallow that a gorgeous woman like Radhika Apte (who is made to wear strangest, the most inappropriate clothes at work) will suddenly get hot and heavy with a lad who has just had a coffee someone spat into. Why? Because she’s so impressed with his intelligence. By that logic, the boss (Denzil Smith) who gives him a job should also be getting hot and heavy with him, no? It’s such a cliched fantasy of the writer and it has failed the Bechdel test on many levels…
What’s awful is that the character breaks the fourth wall and talks to the audience ever so often. And it’s not like Kevin Spacey in the TV show House of Cards. It just comes at you to explain things like, ‘This is where it all started’ or something just as mundane. And the poor small town chap Rizwan Ahmad (played by Rohan Mehra, who looks mostly unwashed through the film) makes a serious face to talk to the audience. The inanities are so groan-worthy, you actually wait for Chitrangada Singh - who can barely move her face when she speaks - to say anything, so you can guffaw.
Saif Ali Khan plays Shakun Kothari, a ruthless money hungry Gujjubhai who doesn’t care for ethics because he knows everyone has a price. Despite his horrible attempt to speak in a Gujarati accent, to his credit, Saif Ali Khan does the best he can. His dialogue too is rife with cliches, including him calling his wife ‘ben’ (sister). Manish Choudhary gets to play the SEBI guy investigating the economic crimes and is made to run a red thread through pins on a board (connecting the dots literally, and done to death by crime shows) where articles about Shakun Kothari and pictures are placed. Ugh! Think of something else!
If you can forget how polished Saif Ali Khan really comes across, his casting is actually spot on. He wears his clothes well. But ever so often you wish you were watching him play Sartaj Singh instead and that this film had more substance and could be seen as a Netflix or an Amazon show instead. Even the Korean shows like Stranger where there is an obvious nexus between real estate tycoons and the politicians is unraveled by the good cops/prosecutors unearths the plot slowly and with surprises. Misaeng is about a guy who plays a board game (who does that?!) and applies the lessons to the stock trading. If they had to there is enough fodder for thought and to be inspired by. Alas, they just stick to writing a cliched film of which only the last twenty minutes of the hurt apprentice avenging his wrongs to bring the master down actually mean something. In fact the movie which is narrated from the open window where the lad stands on the ledge wondering whether to jump or not to jump is so boring, you wish someone from the audience could enter his space (fourth wall be damned and all that) and just push him off. It would save us the cliched, tedious watch.
(this review appears on www.nowrunning.com )
The film is about middle class Delhi at its weirdest best: nosey neighbours, judgemental relatives, small claustrophobic homes, quirky characters… And funny one liners about life that make you smile. Yes, there’s grown up parents who are freshly pregnant and the son is embarrassed. But if you’ve seen the trailer, nothing more happens in the film. It drags on and on until you lose the smiles. Surekha Sikri, Gajraj Rao, Neena Gupta are such phenomenal actors they carry the film, but everything else, including their grown up son Ayushman Khurana lets this film down.
‘Ayushman Khurana is like yesteryear’s Amol Palekar’, someone commented and had you not watched the film Andhadhun last week, you would have agreed. He’s made the sad sack, the whole world is against me character his dream job.
So Aushman discovers that his parents Gajraj Rao and Neena Gupta are going to be parents again. It’s funny when the awesome Surekha Sikri blows her top about ‘Hum do hamare do’ without feeling awkward at all. It’s delightful when the parents read poetry to each other, cannot stop giving each other shy ‘looks’ at a family wedding, and yet manage to fight gently with each other. This kind of a gentle relationship is rarely seen in Bollywood, and you appreciate that. You laugh out loud because the doctor is called ‘Bagga’ (his surname) and his wife (also a doctor) is called ‘Buggy’ instead of the expected ‘Mrs. Bagga’ which in the local Hindi sounds hilarious.
What is so difficult to swallow is that middle class North Indians - where people have many kids - are shown to be so judgemental about having a kid after a gap. Let’s say you buy into the fact that the whole neighborhood is appalled at the idea of an older woman having a baby, then what? How long does the son wander about embarrassed? For two hours plus, of course! While you fall in love with the mother in law played by Surekha Sikri, the parents, you begin hating the son. Why is he so crotchety? It’s not like they stopped him from romancing the girl who obviously comes from a better economic background. It’s not like they did not give them enough freedom. In fact, you idly wonder what the pretty girl (Sanya Malhotra) sees in the morose middle class lad.
The film is so tedious to watch, you wish there were more scenes like how the dad reacts to Sanya visiting their home and begins to speak in English… Apologies for the spoiler, but there is very little in the film to make you spend multiplex money. The lad realises his mistake, and everything’s well and there is that mandatory wedding/engagement dance as you breathe a sigh of relief. But you come away wishing Bollywood would make a movie with Surekha Sikri, Gajraj Singh and Neena Gupta. And that Ayushman Khurana would stop acting in the same out-of-luck-lad role in his films.
(this review appears on www.nowrunning.com)
Goobye Logic and Sanity.
Jasmeet is married to Param. But Jasmeet’s grandpa and brother don’t want her to ever work because women are made to bear children and take care of men. Jasmeet thinks moving to England will give her freedom to work. She will stop at nothing to get to England, including ‘getting married’ in name only to a rich Brit when she realises Param will never get a visa. Param then goes the illegal route to bring her back, pretending to marry another rich Brit when he gets there. Far-fetched, ridiculous and laughable, this film is a poor sequel from the same team that made the 2007 rom-com Namastey London.
In 2007, Katrina Kaif’s independent and very British Jasmeet was tricked by her parents to come visit India and get married to Akshay Kumar’s Param. Param is then tricked by Jasmeet to go to London where she plans to annul the marriage to Param because it is not registered and then she plans to get to a good ole British (read ‘white’) boy. Param’s innocence and gentle goodness, his decency shows up the Brit boy’s entitled racism, and Jasmeet comes back to Param. The film plays on TV even today and it is a decent watch despite the chest-thumping patriotic lesson Param gives a boat load of Brits.
Alas, they tried to fix something that isn’t broken. And their logic is so convoluted and bizarre, that the story trips all over itself, opening itself to unintended, unkind laughter.
Parineeti Chopra plays Jasmeet to Arjun Kapoor’s Param. The chemistry between them is not sexual at all, because they come across like siblings. Despite desperate dialog like,’You know I think dirty thoughts when you hug me like this!’ and staring at each other with supposed seduction, their ‘jodi’ (pairing) is not romantic at all.
Jasmeet wants to work but her grandpa and brother (there are no other women in her family!) won’t let that happen. The old man actually says that men are supposed to work and women are meant to have babies for the men. The old man lets Jasmeet marry Param, but only after getting Param’s dad to promise him that Jasmeet will never work. The trouble is, they all have smartphones and apple computers and talk about email, but Jasmeet has never learnt that she can design jewelry from home… Sigh.
You try to like the one wedding song where everyone dances while making makes horns on head sign (‘Dim Luck Luck’) which begins to sound prophetic for the film. Jasmeet is so enamoured by living abroad that she is willing to go to any extent to get a visa. The one guy with visa connection in that part of rural Punjab is annoyed with Param and will make sure they never get one even to Bangladesh, let alone London. Don’t ask. That drunk guy at the wedding scene is so pathetic, you want to forget it because you’re surprised that Param and Jasmeet are doing the very Hindu ceremony of ‘saat phere’ instead of the four phere (the Lavan ceremony) around the sacred Guru Granth Sahib since they are all shown to be Sikh.
You are still trying to get around the ‘women are born to bear babies’ when you meet an illegal visa guy who suggests Param get married to a ‘mem’ who would then give him residency and a subsequent divorce for a price, after which Param can come back to India, remarry Jasmeet and take her away to London where she could work. What a convoluted way to get to work! They could just move to Bombay or something, and that would work just as well, no? Because they just show Jasmeet work slyly as a salesgirl after all that talk about designing jewelry.
Clearly no one from the filmmaking team has thought things through. The visa cheat annoys Param, so Jasmeet lies to Param and leaves for London after being married to an British Indian lad (Aditya Seal). Param is shocked, but like she says, ‘Only you will understand.’ That’s true because no one in the audience has understood her at all. And no one really cares. But Param decides he is going to bring her back and travels all the way to Bangladesh (dodges bullets by cutting through a fence), gets on to a boat in a shipping container filled with illegal immigrants, travels all the way to Brussels, then by train to Paris and then to London. He gives so many moral science lessons about India has food, and opportunities for work, living abroad has no dignity and so on, you begin to understand why Jasmeet ran away.
Param decides to make Jasmeet jealous (and the movie is well into its second hour) and uses ‘Jasmeet’s new ‘husband’s best friend’ and gets engaged to her. There is the India is best speech given to a sequined jacket wearing uppity Indian Brit (Virginia Woolf would roll in her grave!) and by this time, the rude things you are muttering under your breath, are being heckled aloud by others in the theater. The final nail in the coffin is Arjun Kapoor promising another film of the same kind soon. No, don’t waste your time on this one. If you must say hello to London, watch the Akshay Kumar- Katrina Kaif film again.
(this review appears on www.nowrunning.com)
Greed Is So Good It Is Scary...
In a village that seems to be doomed by the gods, there is one family that lives unafraid. A family that knows the secret hidden inside the womb of the goddess. Gold! As much gold as you can take as long as you are not touched by the beast… The brilliant scary, horrifying film is based on a couple of stories written by Marathi writer Narayan Dharap who in turn was inspired by Stephen King. The writing is practically flawless, the music is haunting and the performances jaw-droppingly good. Brilliant watch.
‘Greed is good,’ said Gordon Gekko, and this fantasy horror film writers and directors Rahi Anil Barve and Anand Gandhi and two other writers Mitesh Shah and Adesh Prasad take us down the rabbit hole and we watch a fabulous story unfold.
The setting is brilliant. It’s like an old moralistic tale of incessant rain and thunder and all shades of black and grey. It has the reds of blood and widowhood, and the gold of greed glitters beautifully. The background music keeps you from breathing, keeps you from thinking anything other than watch the story unfold on the screen, and you begin to anticipate the pain in the belly of the beast each time Sohum Shah, who plays Vinayak Rao emerge with gold coins for his family.
Greed will curse you to want more and more and you will live for hundreds of years, he tells his son, who wants to become like his dad. But you have seen what happens when you know the secret of the greed, when you have been touched by the beast…
Narayan Dharap wrote creepy tales of witches and cursed moons and the undead, inspired by Stephen King. Based on his tale of a witchy grandmother (and who has not thought their wrinkly grandmothers with pale liquidy eyes and gnarly fingers weren’t a mutant or in the least a witch?), Tumbbad tells a tale of a village so cursed by the gods, it rains incessantly. But Vinayak’s family thrives because they have found the key to the local diety’s gold. The curse of greed is passed on. There is skin touched by the beast, melting and seething with pus and boils, there are hearts beating with greed even though the body has disintegrated, there is a living breathing womb and more to keep horror fans happy. There’s even music that keeps you frozen to the seats. The acting by every character - Sohum Shah as the grown up Vinayak, the little kid Mohammad Samad, Dhundiraj Jogalekar, Deepak Damle, Jyoti Malshe, Anita Date - is just awesome. The period setting is crafted well, the creepy prosthetics and homes in ruins… Everything comes together to scare you into not touching the popcorn.
But you exhale when the lights come on, and you take a minute or two to extricate your nails from your arms because you have hugged yourself in fear. And the consequences of greed - like a living breathing thing is not extinguished, it accompanies you home…
(This review appears on www.nowrunning.com )
The Story Too Goes Round And Round Like
But That's Okay, 'Cos Kajol Is So Beautiful!
When a mother lives for her son, obsesses over him, she forgets that he’s grown up and needs his space. Kajol - never before so beautiful - plays a helicopter single mom to Vivan and is so involved with his life that she even joins the same college as he, and makes his life miserable. What could have been a humongous parenting film, is just so frivolously written, that even moments of greatness are reduced to froth.
Kajol looks stunning. And that is perhaps the one thing that makes the film tolerable. What should have been a fantastic dive into the depths of obsession that a single mother could show for her only son or a joyful celebration of sarcasm and humor ends up so facile it induces multiple eye-rolls. Montage after mindless montage where ‘mumma’ and ‘viv’ do what some juvenile writer thinks is ‘creating‘ wonderful mother son moments. Cliches like ‘bring back the tupperware’ are used so many times, you want to yell at the screen, ‘We got that! All Indian mothers are obsessed with tupperware. Now show me something more!’ What we get are cameos from everyone who cared enough to show up: Amitabh Bachchan in his Who’s Going To Be A Millionaire avatar, singers Shaan, Ila Arun and even Baba Sehgal show up, as to Anu Malik and Mahesh Bhatt. It begins to smell like a parody...
Eela (the beautiful Kajol) is an aspiring singer, and gets a break in Bollywood when a music director hears her sing an ad film jingle. Pradeep Sarkar, the director of the film, is himself an advertising man, and manages to bring a smile on our faces with the flashback of Eela singing ad film jingles, being ambitious. But suddenly she’s running to the restroom with her child screaming, ‘Viv! Potty!’ and we are expected to believe that it’s just a natural progression of things when you get married… You hope something interesting is going to happen when she finds herself suddenly single. But it’s Bollywood! Everything is vanilla and super nice. She starts earning money by setting up a food service. And follows her kid around everywhere including school trips. There is no depth in the writing at all, or we would have heard better dialog than, ‘I thought you were only nine teachers so I showed up (at the school trip) to help.’ or even telling a skinny college gal, ‘Wear the skirt, it’s loose-fit on me!’ Seriously? A quintessential mommy saying that to a tall, skinny college co-ed?
Obviously the insistent, loud background music covers all this flawed writing. And drown out questions like: if she’s in college all day as a student, what is now her source of income? Why are her school leaving certificates at her mother-in-law’s home? Why do the filmmakers believe that the audience will find Kajol’s over enthusiastic behavior cute?
As you emerge from this exhausting film you realise one thing: Kajol is so beautiful, so nothing else matters.
(this review appears on www.nowrunning.com )