Minions follows a simple plot where Kevin accompanied by Bob and Stuart decide to venture out of the icy sanctuary of their tribe and promise to return with their boss. Their journey takes them to the shores of New York in 1968 and on the stage of Villain Con at Orlando. Next they are entangled in the ambitious ploy of Scarlet Overkill who has her eyes set on the crown of England. Overcoming all obstacles, the minions are finally successful in their mission to find their despicable boss and thereby ending the movie with the promise of yet another sequel.

What is ingenius about Minions is that while the central story is cascading forward, something very true and real about human lives and mind is communicated. For instance, tracing the history of the minions’ search for their boss, the film succinctly showcases the evolution of human quest for power and progress. Setting the Villain Con against the incumbent Nixon rein in America subverts not only the Comic Con tradition but also overturns the good-evil balance. This is very pertinent since the American superheroes were created to reinstate the faith in the triumph of the good and the righteous. 

The several revolutions, freedom movements and protests during the 60s are subtly captured through the street protestors and banners. Using The Doors music as background score is yet another subtle but powerful statement. At this time around, America was politically and ideologically leaning towards “the other side”. As the remainder of the plot shifts to England, one is returned to the dynamics and politics of monarchial power. 1968 was the year of Nixon’s re-election and with the Vietnam War, oil crisis and space warfare, America was ready than ever to title the power of global politics in its favor. The threat to the English crown therefore strikes as realistic. 

What makes the success of Minions as magical is it constant capacity to make you smile. In the middle of a dangerous chase when Kevin, Bob and Stuart are escaping from Scarlet’s dungeon, Bob finds the time to pet the rabbit in the dreary drainage pipes. While oblivious to their future master, they practice the cheerleading dance with faith and fervor, replete with  the customary poms poms. Having broken the brand new gifted guitar, Stuart cuddles the ridiculous snow globe. Even while exiting the crown drama, Bob decides to donate his teddy bear’s golden crown to the power-hungry Scarlet Overkill. There are moments like these and many more that introduce the audience to the unpredictable and the amusing. The characters are therefore established as unique and refreshing. 

With all its adorable attributes there is one drawback- the impact and effectiveness of the 3D technology. If one is aware of the viewing experience of the audience while making the movie, then the direction and production design should collaborate to ensure that scenes and visuals pertain to it. Watched in 2D, Minions would accord no different an entertaining package and that is a gross waste of resources and the viewers’ hopes. 

Their looks and language may be alien but their emotions and actions are incredibly real representations of human life. To smile and to laugh, to reflect and to realize…Minions is a must watch.

It was yet another brightly lit Saturday night showtime at Mumbai’s Prithvi Theater on July 11, 2015. The stage was once more set ablaze with Shakespeare’s script- this time Rajat Kapoor’s interpretation of King Lear- teasingly titled Nothing Like Lear. A solo act for 1 hour 20 minutes to capture the main plot of the protagonist and his daughters, Gloucester and his legitimate and illegitimate sons Edmund and Edgar and the themes of life, parenthood and death- a feat superbly accomplished by the director and his inimitable actor Vinay Pathak.

Webbed shoes, patched suitcase, the hat and the coat took care of the costume, painted face with prominent red nose addressed the make-up and the clown was ready to play myriad characters and portray multiple emotions. Seating the late comers and cracking jokes with the front row audience, Pathak intentionally established the interactive mode. By repeating “It hasn’t started yet”, he told the audience that they need to be alert and engaged. By referring to the three-month long, 8 hour per day rehearsals and the meticulously chosen script; he even attempted meta-theatrical allusions. Mentioning the mind-numbing TV watching practice and the uncaring “pumping”, the Fool pushed his audience into critical self-reflection.

The local context and concerns were thus catered to while simultaneously enlivening Elizabethan England tragic drama. Nothing Like Lear built a theatrical bridge to close the gap between King Lear’s love for his daughter and modern man’s tryst with parenthood in the urban India. The iconic “Howl, Howl, Howl” soliloquy was rendered thrice eliciting three different emotions each time- from comic to angry to tragic. The countryside English heath was recreated through the storm and rain in the city and truly, the “make-believe” world turned more real by the minute. The use of shadows induced by sudden and strategic lighting takes the audience by surprise. It takes an ingenious directorial vision to visualize the imaginative and innocent flight of a young Cordelia through a shadow dance-cum-mimic act done by the father figure. Similarly, the vehement and vengeful cursing of the daughter by the betrayed father is most powerful in communicating the angst of a parent Shakespeare intended to lock into his words.

Nothing Like Lear constantly transitions from the comic to the tragic. The audience is transformed into intelligent receivers of art, ideas and culture.

Conceived by Kapoor, executed by Pathak, this one’s not to be missed!

Director Avinash Arun has created a formidable and faithful film; Killa ventures to tell its story truthfully, and promises to render its craft respectfully. Selected for the 64th Berlin International Film Festival, this Crystal Bear winner deftly blends realism with surrealistic strokes. Dealing with his father’s recent demise and his mother’s transfer to a small town, this coming-of-age story of an 11 year old boy Chinmay (Archit Deodhar) shows a keen understanding of human nature and an authentic portrayal of the Konkan setting.

Killa showcases once again that the heart of any film lies in its script. It is the word on the page that gives flight to the cinematic vision. The story has the perfect arc of a film script with its defined moments of conflict, climax and resolution. Chinmay goes through the trajectory of anxiety, hope, disillusionment and realization. However, Arun uses this primal story to tell another story- of the rustic lives on the Konkan coast. The screenplay therefore focuses on capturing realistic glimpses of daily life. For instance, writing postcards, using the landline at the neighbour’s house, the corrupt bureaucracy at the local government office and the euphoria of possessing a bicycle are physical and psychological experiences true to its space and characters. 

The dialogues too are non-intrusive and have a very uncontrived, spontaneous quality about them. Even an emotionally charged moment between the mother and son atop the lighthouse when they are reminiscing about the father; the dialogues are kept to a matter-of- fact obvious ground. At the same time, there is simple but powerful symbolism created when Chinmay recites the Marathi poem about a sailor’s struggle at sea; the camera focuses on the mother’s face and the parallel communicates the essence of her being. 

The cinematography and editing forms the two cornerstones of this aesthetically evolved cinematic narrative. The film is introduced to the audience through the camera zooming in i.e. literally entering into the leafy path headed towards the sea. It is symbolic of entering the tale of Chinmay and therefore, when the story comes to an end, the camera gradually pulls out of different frames and out of every character’s life. It is films like these that will make the audience attuned to film vocabulary. By giving them anything less, we do them gross injustice. This camera movement is extremely reminiscent of Satyajit Ray’s Charulata and perhaps not surprising of an FTII alumnus.

The camera takes the lead in highlighting the significant shift in the character of Chinmay from boyhood into adulthood. For instance, the scene where Chinmay walks past the beach, the camera pans from his playful classmates to the fishermen preparing for their fishing expedition and this succinctly captures Chinmay’s maturity and growth. He chooses to take the ride with the fisherman, sail far into the sea rather than stay safe on the shore. Instead of witnessing his friends catch crabs from under the rocks, Chinmay now catches fish from the sea and has the first bite of life’s endeavor. Towards the end, when Chinmay takes the plunge into the bath to swim with his friends, the treatment once again renders it extremely symbolic. 

The film is filled with such metaphors and turn into motifs through its recurrent references. The fort literally the killa, is the most powerful of it all. It represents the labyrinth of experiences, memories and relationships that Chinmay has and marks a clear emotional shift in his life. It acts as a metaphorical tunnel of revelation for him. The subtlety with which these metaphors have been used enhances its beauty. The simple instance of Chinmay protecting the dog from his mischievous friend Bandya (Parth Bhalerao) effectively communicates the detailing of each character that has gone into making them stand out as unique. Similarly, the tilak and Superman/Spiderman t-shirts that Yuvraj (Gaurish Gawade) wears or the black cloth bag that Bandya uses as a makeshift schoolbag are consciously chosen to represent the class differences and its dynamics between young school boys. 

Sound too has been employed strategically to elicit emotional connect from the audience. For instance, the sound of the motor in the fisherman’s boat, which is juxtaposed with the complete silence and stillness in the middle of the sea works wonderfully in portraying Chinmay’s internal introspection. His return to his mother that night creates a universally identifiable moment of solace and security of the home. These technical and directorial choices have been well supported by the sincere and powerful acting essayed by the actors specially the young school boys. Even the gait and small gestures of the actors have been minutely worked upon.  

Just as the intentional designing of a fort done to fulfill strategic functions, Killa has a well-scripted layout to create competent cinema.

Nothing Smooth About This One

Quentin Tarantino’s violence splashed against music, Francis Ford Coppola’s low lighting and strategic framing, David Fincher’s psychological dystopia and Martin Scorsese’s crime streets and dark themes. Bombay Velvet alludes to and pays homage to these master directors through specific scenes at different points in time. Director Anurag Kashyap clearly has all the correct cinematic capers. While being inspired by the auteurs is no crime, to rob your audience of an original, engaging and well-written script can definitely qualify as one. Alluding to the Roaring Twenties does not guarantee a successful Indian version of Boardwalk Empire or The Great Gatsby. 

Bombay Velvet revolves around the protagonist Johny Balraj (Ranbir Kapoor) who migrates to Bombay from Punjab with a relative in his childhood. This is paralleled with the story of Rosie Naronha (Anoushka Sharma) who runs away from an exploitative life in Goa to chase her freedom in Bombay. Reeling under the impact of the Bombay Prohibition Act 1949, their lives get intertwined into the real estate nexus of a gluttonous businessman Kaizad Khambatta (Karan Johar), a corrupt bureaucrat Romi Mehta (Sidhhartha Basu) and a media house owner Jimmy Mistry (Manish Chaudhury). The plot then serenades to twists and turns, bombs and betrayals against the consistent backdrop of Amit Trivedi’s music anticipating a climax that turns out to be a cliché. 

A period film rests heavily on the creation of an authentic and believable setting. The huge production costs courtesy Fox Studios has ensured that the film impresses the audience on this count. The documentary-like footage and sepia toned frames during the title credits itself rolls the carpet for the opulence of the set design and art production. The costume, the cars, the fonts, the newspapers, the dockyards, the buses, the Queen’s necklace...Bombay Velvet truly becomes a visual reminiscence of Bombay of the 1960s. 

In one of his interviews, Kashyap had said how Kapoor is one of those actors who surrenders himself completely to the director. His refined and intense acting in the film stands testimony to this characteristic. In the shooting scene inside his office at the Bombay Velvet club, Kapoor expresses the nuances of violence and vulnerability simultaneously. Johar who debuted in a whole new arena does justice to his well-tailored suit and well-trimmed moustache although his real life affability pervades into some frames of his reel life. Sharma sings her notes right given the rhyme and rhythm of her role. Also, the elaborate costume, impeccable hair and make-up customized for every mood overwhelms the audience enough to miss the lack of variation in her diction and dialogue delivery. The scene at the race course where he is supposed to threaten Rosie is a point in case. In the role of Chiman (Satyadeep Misra) and Tony (Vivaan Shah), the actors form a formidable supporting cast. 

While establishing the lives of young Rosie and Balraj in parallel time, the parallel editing style and perfect match card from the scene in the red district of Bombay and Portuguese occupied Goa promises a seamless and evolved narration ahead. Unfortunately, the commitment to crisp and sensible story-telling ends there. Hereafter, the film is fantastic in flashes and fragments. Actually, some of the best shots and frames of the film have been delectably hand-picked for the trailer- Rosie and Johny in the bed and the bathtub, Johny’s angst-ridden fight inside the cage, Johny’s threat to Jimmy outside his car, the stunning lovers in the finest costumes at the racecourse and Johny’s resolution to kill Rosie himself. Each one looked promising in the promo because they work very well as visuals, as stills and as frames. They also work marvelously as misleading and deceiving magazine covers whose inside pages is lacking in editorial content. The biggest contributor to this fractured narrative is the music. One scene ends and there is a string of visuals played against music as a transition to the next scene. The audience is left at the mercy of piecing together the intermediate connection. This method is not effective when it keeps repeating itself. 

The construction of individual scenes itself lacks details. Very little thought is put into them. The police chase scene at The Shalimar Hotel or the scene when Johny attempts to rob Khambatta at the Lloyds Bank are fine examples of the filmmaker’s inadequacy or convenient oversight. The latter scene is especially disappointing because that proves to be a turning point in the life of Balraj and the audience is left thinking of Khambata as an imbecile to be impressed by Balraj’s feeble attempt to rob him. The motives given to the characters too are unconvincing- why does Khambatta hire Balraj? Why is Rosy afraid of Mistry? Why is Chiman disgruntled? Why is the inspector (Kay Kay Menon) empathetic towards Johny? Why does Tony help Johny? Why does Johny create Rosie’s fake sister Rita? Why does Johny decide not to fight Khambatta in the last scene at Bombay Velvet when he has entered killing the latter’s henchmen? The logic persistently evades. One might want to listen to the characters speak to find clues of rationality but then the dialogues are too ridden with mediocrity with a few exceptions. 

When you create a magnum opus, it might be wiser sometimes to create lateral layers of meaning rather than mount a vertical tower of themes. British colonialism, Portuguese occupation, India-Pakistan partition, mill workers’ strike, land reclamation, jazz clubs, prostitution, bootlegging, gold smuggling, media house rivalry, star-crossed lovers, loyal friendship…give the audience a single point of identification rather than drowning them in a sea of events and issues. As a result, the audience is first overwhelmed and then simply distanced, detached and lost…very soon slipping into the vortex of boredom. 

Bombay Velvet’s promo was titillating with the prelude “One man’s dream will become every man’s nightmare.” Well, the filmmaker stayed true to its promise- Kashyap’s dream to make this period epic saga did indeed become a nightmare for every man in the audience.

Margarita With a Straw- A Desirable Drink 

In the vein of Vikas Bahl’s Queen (2014) and Gauri Shinde’s English Vinglish (2012), Shonali Bose and Nilesh Maniyar’s Margarita With a Straw narrates the journey of a woman and underscores the shades of feminine beauty and bravery. Bollywood has witnessed women at the helm of directorial affairs with Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (2011) and Main Hoon Naa (2004) mirroring the male fantasies and masculine aspirations. However, what distinguishes Margarita With a Straw is not merely its female protagonist and female central characters; the feminine sensibility dictates the narrative choices, shot taking as well as frame compositions. 

The film centres round Delhi University student Laila (Kalki Koechlin) who suffers from cerebral palsy and is a lyricist for the college band. With a Punjabi father (Kuljeet Singh) and a Maharashtrian mother (Revathy), Laila’s family forms her emotional crutch along with the differently abled friend Dhruv (Hussain Dalal). Her stable life metamorphoses when she is accepted for a creative writing programme at the New York University, which allows her a new space for emotional and sexual exploration. The story ends with a return to India where new travails and triumph await her. 

In a formula format where directors blur the difference between theater and film with excessive use of dialogues, Bose has made a marked deviation. She has created several and sustained scenes and sequences without dialogue and let the silence and the movement of the camera tell the story. The opening scene following the blue matador on the wide streets of Delhi with the mother at the driver’s seat breaks the stereotype of the middle class North Indian family. The sliding electric wheelchair for the differently abled Laila breaks the stereotype of a ‘normal’ family. The Asamese character of Nima (Tenzing Dalha) and the Pakistani character of Khanum (Sayani Gupta) further breaks the stereotype of what comprises an Indian cast. A single scene captures the challenge of the protagonist’s condition- when she has to be lifted up the flight of stairs to reach her classroom due to the breakdown of the elevator. The expression held by Koechlin in those few moments is one of the few most powerfully held emotions of anger and isolation. Silence in this film is truly golden.

With the establishment of disability and dysfunction, Bose breaks the norm of garnering sympathy for the affected protagonist. This is achieved with the representation authentic trajectory that any other collegiate of Laila’s age would undergo- love, sex, music, friends, academics. Staring at college crushes, anxiety over Facebook profile pictures, kissing in alleys of Science labs and jamming with friends- Laila’s life unfolds like any other coming-of-age narrative. Even the acknowledgement of Laila’s disability at the inter-collegiate battle of the bands competition offends her and it echoes her self-respect loud enough. However, the director makes her lack of motor skill coordination as more of a deceptive cover used to explore a far bolder and truer taboo of society- the thick boundaries we draw between heterosexuality, homosexuality and bisexuality. While male sexual development and expression have often found on-screen expression and off-screen acceptance with movies like Hunterr (2015) and Desi Boyz (2011), the scene that captures Laila stimulating herself is one of the boldest scenes one has witnessed in the cinematic form.

What further aids the audience to feel the mood of the situation and the emotions of the characters is music. Right from the Punjabi song the father sings in the opening scene, which is replayed during the family dance before Laila’s departure to the USA creates a warm moment. The effectively penned “Meri Aadat Mera Hissa” serves to heighten Laila’s pain while the innovative “Dusokute” song is used to create a dramatic irony. Yet the most interesting twang to the tunes come in the scene where Laila and Khanum go drinking and dancing in a New York watering hole and sexual tension between the two women builds up while the club singer sings a jazz variant “I Need a Man” could not have been a better marriage between music and meaning. This is the director’s challenging question to the conventional sexual needs circumscribed around women.

Of course, the symbolic title recurs time and again to signify uniqueness and independence. The first shot captures the straw that Aai (Revathy) uses for Laila’s juice while the last shot constructs a mirror frame with Laila sipping margarita with a straw. The self-affirmation in the ending scene through the conventional construct of a ‘date’ seemed contrite but it does not for a bit mitigate the desirability of this cinematic drink.

Broken Norms

He directed blockbuster entertainers like Parinda (1989) and 1942: A Love Story (1993). He experimented with ideas as the writer of Eklavya: The Royal Guard (2007) and Munnabhai MBBS (2003). With Broken Horses, Vidhu Vinod Chopra has broken norms along with the boundaries of language, location and actors. Unfortunately, while within the mainstream, his fresh perspectives were well received; breaking norms on Hollywood turf will not break box office records or even knock at the critics’ doors. 

Shot against the Western locale of Mexico, Chopra’s Broken Horses is a story about two brothers Buddy Heckum (Chris Marquette) and Jacob Heckum (Anton Yelchin) tracing their lives after the death of their father. While the elder brother Buddy dons the role of responsibility by sacrificing his own education and adopting the job of Julius Hench’s henchman; the younger brother Jacob pursues the violin. The two worlds of the brothers clash and crash with Jacob’s return to their Mexican hometown and the plot spirals into some nasty twists and turns.

Yes, the plot is shared with the Jackie Shroff- Anil Kapoor starrer Parinda. However, the English version does not share the impact of its Hindi predecessor.

To the regular Bollywood audience, Chopra’s Broken Horses surely serves some deviations from the norm thereby making the narrative unique and different. The slow pan camera movements and smooth editing pattern creates a slow, stagnated pace throughout the film. This helps to establish the truncated state of Mexico where progress and prosperity have not mitigated the harshness of the landscape and the cruelty of the gangsters. The heavy dose of interior setting of the ranch house, the dilapidated theater and Hotel Esparano with dim lighting and wooden furnish creates a dark, claustrophobic mood of entrapment that the central characters find themselves in. It forces the audience to focus and think about the interior, psychological reality of the characters. The long shots and wide angle shots captures the deserted and menacing Mexican locale.

So why don’t these broken norms not beckon the audience? Slow pace and dark atmospheres characteristic of renowned directors like Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese create dramatic effect for they are accompanied by slow but subtle camera movements, phenomenal acting and a natural pace of dialogue delivery. Chopra makes his frame too static for the scene to come alive and create an emotional ripple in the minds of the audience. The dialogues seem too contrite and forced because most of the lines are symbolic. Dialogues like “He is a bad man”, “I will go bananas”, “Yeah I understand”, “There is a rat in his old theatre” are also too simplistic; and therefore low on dramatic impact. Also, Mr. Hench who is supposed to be the villain and exude terror and fear fails to do so because the director has constantly given him dialogues to make him sound like a vicious villain. Mr. Hench’s character is reminiscent of Marlon Brando in Coppola’s The Godfather but lacks scenes of silence where the character is built through mere screen presence. Also, given the fact that Jacob is constructed as a gentle and sensitive musician, music has been underutilized to narrate the story and mood independently and powerfully.

In addition, the medium of the metaphors is also strongly and consistently applied. The title itself is a reference to the domestication of a horse and is supposed to represent the taming of Buddy at the hands of Mr. Hench. However, what ruins a metaphor, especially for an intelligent audience is when the meaning of the metaphor is spelt out through explicit dialogues. The model of the ranch on the lake that becomes the setting of the climax of the film is too predictable. The opening scene with the shooting range, guns and murder aimed to establish the setting, theme and plot too proves ineffective because the plot is not intriguing enough to keep the audience on the edge of their seats. Even the “pool” story of their childhood and the wedding speech seems rather pale and inauthentic. The English script therefore seems lacking in imagination, depth and subtlety. This weak scripting fails to hold the extravagant ambition of the director to translate his words from the page to the screen. All the technical innovations attempted seem to shout and scream for attention and thereby come across as textbook theory gone wrong in practice. 

The moral of the story reads thus: Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s Broken Horses breaks the audience’s entertainment pattern only to leave them fragmented and frustrated.

DETECTING BYOMKESH BAKSHY!

The genre of detective fiction still lurks only on the margins of Bollywood. When an indulgent banner like Yash Raj Films and an acclaimed filmmaker like Dibakar Banerjee make a lukewarm adaptation of the iconic, indigenous Byomkesh Bakshy, we know this fact is still true. It is 2015 and the filmmakers are talking to an audience exposed to the evolved excesses of Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock Holmes. Recreating the 19th century detective, the TV series produces a mania; adapting the 20th century truth-seeker induces a manic depression. This depression passes through a road of deception. The disguise of grandeur and promise created by the production design has visually framed the World War II colonial Kolkata with impeccable finish. Add to it the costume design and the cinematography drawing the audience’s attention to foreign brands, Chinatown alleys, colonial interiors, trams and contemporary newspapers. The picture is perfect, the frame is flawless….only unfortunately, to be filled with fluff and flake. 

Unlike the genre of the action-thriller, the canvas of a case and its mysterious trail to discovery does not rely solely on the plot. Not the physical bravado of a Dabanng or a Rowdy Rathore but this genre’s fan base is seeking the distinct heroism of the mind. Establishing the key character of the detective is central to meet this goal. It is the process of deduction and not the final resolution that lends the audience its ‘kicks’. Byomkesh Bakshy happens to be romanticized through several Bengali screen adaptations as well as by the legendary Rajit Kapur in the Doordarshan TV series. Its first Bollywood avatar sure did its round of buzz. Bakshy’s character as essayed by Sushant Singh Rajput’s acting, dips the raised wave of expectation. A middle class student of Vidya Sadan College, Rajput’s Byomkesh remains just that; a college student who accidentally and innocently gets embroiled in a plot within which he exerts little play or power. For instance, the most crucial decoding of the map takes place when Byomkesh identifies the cartographic route as that of river Ganga. The random brain wave that flashes through his mind at that moment thanks to the contrite dialogue written for his assistant Ajit Banerjee (Anand Tiwari) saps the joy of mystery-solving. It is even worse when this tactic is a repetition. 

As if disappointing the audience was not enough, the filmmakers have replaced effective communication with condescension. When the already superfluous and unconvincing detective is made to spell out even the few credible deductions, the assumption of the audience’s naivety is plain humiliating. Byomkesh’s oft repeated questions regarding the missing clues in the case are painfully reminiscent of the mediocrity of script that pervades Indian detective TV shows like C.I.D. After this, arrives the unbearable and unending climax of the film- a round table chai session with all the pawns of the plot headed by Byomkesh’s narration of the resolved mystery and revelation of the true culprit (neither qualifies as a mystery for the audience by now). This long-winding narration may read well within the pages of a novel but not for a dramatic ending of a film. Even the supposed love ravaged murder of Anguri Devi (Swastika Mukherjee) is lackluster  because there is not adequate build up and chemistry between her and Dr. Guha (Neeraj Kabi). The romantic plot between Byomkesh and Satyavati (Divya Menon) has received no attention and treatment just as the half-baked college romance between him and Leela (Moumita Chakraborty). Banerjee’s literary knowledge of Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay’s character enabled him to rope in the noir element with the femme fatale figure of Anguri Devi. However, the impenetrable veneer of make-up and lipstick could not veil the lack of acting. Thus, the most seductive moments remain those where the audience is viewing her body and not her face. Also, her victim position does not strike a chord of surprise or sympathy with the audience because she is not vicious enough in the first place. The ironic and ridiculous shift in the representation of Dr. Guha from a cold, calculating villain in the narration scene to a self-destroying, blood-thirsty one in the next scene seems absurd. Apart from Dr. Guha’s mock threats to Byomkesh, Banerjee leaves the audience with the real threat- the promise of a sequel. 

Guess directors who insist on having an exclamation mark in the very title of their films for dramatic impact surely do not know how to create real drama on the reel.

The title of the film flashes three naked women with disappearing underwear and the film opens with a metaphor comparing sex with excreta. But this sleazy irreverence is a mere sheen veiling solid substance. Harshavardhana Kulkarni’s Hunterr is a tale of love and lust that extends into a narrative of loss and life, of trysts and trust. The protagonist Mandar Pondshe (Gulshan Devaiah) as the quintessential human hunter of women is established in the opening scene itself. Yet, what the audience sees is not a sassy and suave Casanova but the next door gun, unassuming and annoying. This is also the beginning of breaking stereotypes and conventions. Even the seasoned audience, familiar with a non-linear narrative structure and flashbacks, is surprised with the backward dragging shots to literally create the sense of motion into the past. What is astonishing is despite the insistent shuttling between “6 months earlier”, “1995” and “Present Day”, the film does not feel fragmented. The three paneled frame capturing the three women characters hitherto in Mandar’s life that appears when the intermission is announced, shows the intention of the filmmaker to maintain clarity in meaning.

The story of sex and cool debaucheries soon emerges as a coming-of-age tale traced from adolescence to adulthood. Here too the filmmaker has imagined an extremely authentic setting of the communal well, village mud houses and small town blue film video parlors. It is within these raw, non-glamorous sites that he locates the male body and its growing sexuality. Yet, it is not the school crushes where he begins his story. It is within the domesticated confines of the house and between the dynamics of social interaction amongst relatives of opposite gender. The scene where the old aunt is making rotis, the young niece Surekha is serving them and the three boys Mandar, Kshitij and Yusuf deliberating marriage with her is a case in point. The three boys stripped to their bare bodies, taking a bath and teasing each other about marrying their niece Surekha shows how sexual fantasies can begin at home.

A potently vibrant imagination is at work as far as the development of characters is concerned. Hunterrr is also an inclusive script that is serious about ensuring that each character of the film stays on the minds of the viewer. They are created literally and metaphorically out of quirks. This makes them unique and exciting at once. The non-deferential Kshitij urinating in public spaces only, the meowing Mrs. Savita Sahay playing the Indian cougar, Jyotsna with her low back blouses as sign of her sexual needs, the stammering Deepak indicative of his inadequacy, Mandar’s mother with her malapropisms, Anju with her calm suffering and Mandar’s friend with his penchant for his version of shirt-ripping dance are a few traits that are difficult to forget. Each idiosyncrasy transcends humor and cultivates an emotional moment for the audience to feel for the characters. Jyotsna’s sweet dismissal of her extra-marital affair with a single line, “Tu toh bhaag gaya, main kahan jaaoongi?” (You ran away, where will I go?) succinctly captures the trapped situation of the married woman. The angry threats spouted by Kshitij in his mother tongue at the father who sexually abused his children brings in a grey shade to ‘Vasu’-like characters that are perceived to be on the wrong side of morality.

What supports this celluloid rendition of human desires and emotions is the commendable soundtrack with its wide variety and originally thought-out metaphors and lyrics. The intermingling of hunger with sexual appetite in “Thaali Khaali Hain” and the metaphors of milk and ghee to speak of liberated romance in the slow love song, “Chori Chori” speaks of a leap to another creative plane. The retro style title track “Hunterrr 303” put to tune by Bappi Lahiri is a fun homage to the disco era that lends a humorous and youthful twist to the age old game of love chase.

Humor is another ingredient that pervades the film. Even with the ending scene where dramatic decision is built around Mandar’s confession and Trupti’s (Radhika Apte) decision, the narrative is punctuated with alternate possibilities of the outcome as happened in Mandar’s imagination. The scene ends with Chax asking Trupti for an antacid and Mandar for a Disprin. The ordinary and the banal never allow the narrative to be over the top or larger than life. It is due to this that the audience walks out of the theater not only engaged but thoroughly convinced with them. They are both real and relatable.

Filled with innuendo, the film and the songs make some true statements about intimacy.

Hunterrr truly captures Kama Ka Real Ras. 

British playwright Mike Bartlett’s modern play Cock found its dramatic adaptation on the stage of Mumbai, courtesy actor-turned-director Jim Sarbh with his small motley of cast- boyfriend Siddharth Kumar, girlfriend Aditi Vasudev, father Suhas Ahuja and pianist Kaizad Gherda. Cheekily titled Cock; presumably the boldness does not end with the title. Confronting strong thematic elements like homosexuality, bisexuality, identity and sexual politics; this Allmytea Productions’ latest theatrical presentation toyed with a truthful territory:

The Stage:

Bare.Empty. Minimal…and a white circle. This is the new age stage. Devoid of set, furniture, chairs even, props…nothing that will take away from the words of the actor and the imagination of the audience. The circular periphery acted as a befitting visual display of the protagonist’s repetitive but futile questioning of his sexual orientation. The claustrophobia felt by the protagonist John (Jim Sarbh) when constantly compelled by the society to define his sexuality, is well communicated through the stage space restricted by the circle. This kind of stage design releases the production from the compulsions of representing reality…the emphasis is therefore, on the play and provocation of ideas.

Lights and Sound:

Lights played the integral role of transitions throughout the performance. Guiding us from one scene to another was absolute darkness and absolute silence while the actors maintain their spot on stage; no entries, no exits. But, the next strand of dialogues picks up mid-way and the audience catches up with the characters’ already lived experience. This structure contributes towards the pace and movement of the play and keeps the audience engaged. The concept of live music on stage is getting popular and the notes of the piano add to the dramatic effect of the powerful dialogues without intruding into the voices of the characters.

Acting:

Bold actions like kissing between the male lovers, holding of the cock and a simulated orgasmic experience during sexual intercourse tear apart pretentious masques and portray bare naked truths of the thickly veiled bedroom life. What became primal in the capturing of the issues of sexuality was the subtle looks, the deliberate eye movements, the sexual nature of the caress to convince the audience about the sexual nature of the human body. Vital was the examination of the naked bodies of lovers- it foregrounded the sexual component of that thing we call love and marriage. To essay these characters seemed challenging because it was not what the actors could do with their bodies but more so how they could react to the presence of the body of another that created the friction of emotions on stage. The estrangement that exists between the male and the female body before the first sexual union is beautifully captured when John looks upon skeptically at his first female partner.

Script:

There is very subtle humor embedded in the tone and nuances of the script. It also contains thought provoking nuggets like the short monologue of John when he questions his partner’s father about the meaning of the cultural politics of the 1960s. Instead of being helpless about his confusion, when John attempts to sever the ties between sexuality and identity, Bartlett’s words are truly invoking the libertine and the egalitarian. However, what can also not be denied is the monotony and boredom arising from the repetitive nature of the conflict and dialogues in the second act of the play especially since the dinner conversation only reiterates the problem rather than uncovering new perspectives.

Anurag Kashyap…the name precedes his films. In the case of Ugly, even the trailers, promotions, the Kali-Katha clip and the artwork preceded the film’s actual showcase on the silver screen. Welcome aboard Kashyap’s signature moves- unusual frame compositions, low angle shots, saturated colors, plot dissecting non-linear editing style, coarseness of language and grotesque human desire. These familiar strokes of beauty are used and exhausted within the first few shots of the film. After that Ugly unfortunately begins to turn ugly! 






Here’s 5 Reasons why: 

It is impactful when Shalini (Tejaswene Kolhapure) holds the gun in her mouth in the opening scene; it is emotionally impotent when she aims the gun at her husband towards the end. 1 short monologue about her woes does not convince the audience of her mental and emotional evolution.

The police interrogation is heart-wrenching when acted out the first two times; after that even the threat and torture becomes repetitive a.k.a. non-intimidating. Action on screen loses impact when the audience is left guessing for the cause. Why is Chaitanya (Vineet Singh) repeatedly arrested? Why is Rahul (Rahul Bhat) recurrently threatened?
Expletives look gritty, they enhance the realism of the film, they add texture to the characters BUT what they CANNOT DO is REPLACE the dialogues. After a certain point in the film, the power of the words is seeped out of the frame.

Characters need to be consistent if the audience has to understand and relate with them. Their choices can change but their core essence cannot be confusing, which unfortunately is the case with the pivotal character of Shaumik Bose (Ronit Roy). After the unreasonable, aggressive and merciless beating of Rahul, he plays the good cop, the fine man, the caring father- and its stops adding up for the audience.

You cannot have contemporary, cutting-edge context with archaic, outdated content. This is with reference to the antiquated investigation processes the police employs to trace the suspects. IP address, unique identification number, credit card records, online phone calling services- they can be legitimate elementary processes but to the audience exposed to international law and crime TV series, it cannot incur intrigue and anticipation. A plot that moves on the threshold of a police investigation needs more meat than this.

The final revelation and discovery of the kidnapped child- now could there have been a more lame and hasty attempt at providing a denouement to the central issue of the narrative after several detours and digressions? The audience is bored and exhausted with the missing child at the end of two hours; only to discover that the writer/director has forgotten to offer even as much as an intriguing twist to the tale. 

It would be too simple and too simplistic to garner critical praises for Rajkumar Hirani’s P.K. Instead, let us garnish some ingredients that every director must stew in order to boil the perfect broth of cinematic entertainment.

The Socialized Salt

A single story can miss the goal, but a social story will never escape the collective net. P.K. hand picks its issues from the ground realities of religious hypocrisy, blind faith, communal conflicts and ritualistic practices, only to make it more palatable than the newspaper headlines on your breakfast table. Not that the Godhra riots and the Mumbai bomb blasts have not taught us our lessons but 24X7 news channels, reams of editorial columns and hundreds of tweets seem lacking and wanting when it comes to Hirani’s perspective on the fundamental conception of religion- a perspective, which comes, both literally and figuratively, out of space. Hirani goes back to the basics of religious anthropology- which establishes the genesis of religion in the primal human emotion of fear. It would take an alien to show us how religion has increasingly alienated us from the idea of God.

The Spice of Language

This is the filmmaker’s secret ingredient- to raise a theoretical and philosophical question that seldom orbits the planet of popular Bollywood- the spice called language and its relevance in and to human civilization. It is this spice that tickles the brain the most and raises hair raising questions- Does language really enable us to make meaning? Is language a trustworthy form of communication? Does language have an arbitrary source of formation? Are civilizations that have eliminated language more evolved than ours? The actor does not tend to the didactic but when P.K. (Aamir Khan) dishes out the varying contextual uses of the ubiquitous word Acha, you know he has provoked the intellect of its audience.

The Starry Meat

Speaking of Khan, we might as well add the meaty cast composition of stars like Sanjay Dutt, Anoushka Sharma, Boman Irani and Sushant Singh Rajput and star dazzle the spectators. When the actors within the frame are good looking and when the characters within the mis-en-scen wear their garb impeccably, you know that the silver screen is sure to shine through the hearts of the viewers. The cinematography captures still close-up moments like when Jaggu (Anousha Sharma) weeps at the memory of Sarfaraz (Sushant Singh Rajput) or the soft, subtle movements when Jaggu and P.K. dance on the roof or when Jaggu and Sarfaraz serenade to the Begian backdrop in a boat. These saturated coloured moments imprint its life on the memory of the audience beyond the darkness of the theatre.

The Screenful of Tadka 

A screenplay needs the right twang arriving at the right time in just the right proportion. The screenplay employs all its elements so as to either repeat it, sustain it or complete it. Jaggu’s fascination for poetry and her father’s whistling becomes the repetitive motif for her sensitive self, P.K.’s quest for the remote and Sarfaraz’s betrayal becomes the elements of sustenance in the plot and the minor character of the thief and Bhairon Singh (Sanjay Dutt) complete the narrative detour taken earlier with their emergence in the penultimate scene before the climax. A good cinematic chef is the one who selectively picks his ingredients and once added, ensures it dissolves with the rest for the frames should hold its unique tone, shade and flavor till the very end.

The Music Masala

That every successful and signature chef special requires the music masala is a well-established parable now. But, it truly takes a masterchef to dwell into the local, authentic accent and pronunciation of each of its character and then lend lyrics to their idiosyncratic personas. Waste of Time and Tharki Chokro are blazing emblems of excellence. Furthermore, to make the musical masala an inter-related side dish rather than a superficial dollop of desert is a mark of the master craftsman. Nanga Punga Dost resonate the protagonist’s identity and relationship with the humans while Bhagwan Hain Kahaan Re Tu capture the anguished resignation of the character’s hope. Thus, with P.K., music is the cinematic narrative set in notes and not stirred out of leftover scraps of a lyricist’s notes.

…And that’s how you brew P.K.- the Perfect Kurry from the Cult of Courage!

On the young and exuberant stage of Thespo, Sri Lanka’s Walking Path left an indelible theatrical trail to its Indian audience at Prithvi on Friday, December 19. This production whose central premise was the campaign to construct new parks and paths as a symbolic reconstruction of their nation; was designed without dialogues. The elimination of hitherto considered primal medium of communication was drastic enough. However, its foreknowledge gave the audience enough time to sharpen their senses.

The costume was marked with the unadulterated white- the impeccably pure and clear- just as the message of the performance. White being one of the conventional choice for mime artistes, the actors were divided into three sets right from the start- the runners, the vigilant enforcers and the vibrant youth. While the runners symbolized the mindless following of the authority, the vigilante group was the emblem of repressive state watchdogs and the youth represented the spirit of individual freedom and expression that were time and again curtailed in one way or the other. The minute distinction between the groups achieved through all white costumes showed the dependence on subtlety to communicate to tis audience. Superimposed against the black ambience of the theatre, the actors and their expressions were only enhanced further by the use of white smoke on stage.

The props like bags, sandwiches, sunscreen lotions, balloons et al were incorporated into the white schema. However, more interesting was the artificial cardboard versions of cellphones and laptops that were used as important objects as part of the performance. The unauthentic shade given to these objects adds a layer of the fantastical. Thus, it convinces the audience about its symbolic value and stresses its function as a message rather than a mere prop. Due to the absence of dialogues, the violence and the oppression is not pinned down to a specific situation or culture or political group or country. This enables the audience of a cross-cultural composition to connect with it through their own personal and political vantage point.

The music migrated from the realistic- like the sound of traffic, the sound of the birds, the cellphone beeps, cries of the babies to the symbolic- the calm beats for the youth that kept recurring, the humorous beat for the lighter scenes and the ironically melancholic during a mock crying scene. When one is not hearing words, the ears, surprising within a short period of time, becomes tuned to capturing the wide minutiae of sounds used in the play.

The use of stage space and set design were exceptionally minimalistic in nature. The white benches of different sizes used were once again employed to function at two levels- the real and the symbolic. Coupled with the superlative acting, the benches helped in recreating in the minds of the audience a virtual setting and a convincing one at that. At the more symbolic level, they indicated the physical proximity and emotional distance that exist among people today.

The acting was the limelight of the performance, the showstopper, the penultimate weapon of mass appeal and adulation. What the seven lead actors and the wide array of auxiliary actors succeeded in doing is to outline the role of the human body in theatre. It stood as a reminder to the fans of the theatre that this art form is conducted through the body primarily. That the body remains the most powerful carrier of thoughts and ideas. The mobile phone scene where the director wanted to showcase the emotional saturation, alienation and insensitivity perpetrated by modern technology is the point in case. The actor who creates an emotionally charged moment of grief through his crying and struggling body induces pathos in the audience only to immediately throw in comic relief and anti-climactic laughter. Yet, the human condition has never appeared more pitiful where deep angst has to be artificially cultivated to secure the mandatory, obsessive likes and laughter on social networking sites. The behind-the-scene conductor of this show, the director, achieved a theatrical stroke of excellence with the supremely well-coordinated body movements and eye contact in the scene where the actors were portraying the perfect harmony and togetherness with each other. It also had one of those rare incorporations of the gay couple in a public park being under the scanner of the moral police. The actors had such prowess that they controlled their reaction to the presence of other actors on stage with as much panache as they created the feeling of love and sexual attraction towards their partners.

It is difficult to sustain the symbolic and the silent for an unbroken period of 75 minutes. But, Walking Path did exactly that and more- it sustained a continuum of critical thinking and emotions for an intensely moving period of 75 minutes.