Sitaare Zameen Par, Movie Review, 2025

***spoilers alert***

Following from the precedence set by the hugely successful and brilliant Taare Zameen Par, in 2007, Aamir Khan brings us a second take (and, mind you, not a sequel) of putting the spotlight on mentally differently-abled individuals, in the cleverly named Sitaare Zameen Par.

The film tells the story of a self-absorbed and obnoxious but highly talented basketball coach, Gulshan (Aamir), who, as a community service punishment for drunk driving, is assigned as the coach of the basketball team in an institution for special needs adolescents, tasked with training them to compete in an upcoming national tournament. Like the majority in our society, he is not only oblivious to the reality of people with mental disabilities, but also downright rude and dismissive of them as being ‘not normal’. As he is given no choice but to complete his service period, he goes through the journey from hate to tolerance to loving these youngsters who are not special because of their handicaps, but because of their unique personalities, their intense capacity to love, their unlimited ability to be human, and their unbelievably young and large hearts. As he transforms the team from a dysfunctional bunch of individuals to a high-performing winning basketball team reaching the finals, he goes through his own transformation as a person, realising (as he himself says in the film), ‘it is not he who is coaching them, it is them who are coaching him to be a better person’.

Firstly, the most obvious and important thing. The mission of the film and the fact that it was made deserves the most outstanding applause. Telling the story of dyslexia when perhaps the larger social awareness of any kind of mental disability was non-existent 18 years ago was a monumental feat then. Telling the story of the spectrum of intellectual disabilities with an attempt to not only educate the larger audience but also with an ambition of ‘normalising’ it, again is a brilliant achievement. But it is brilliant not for the same reason as Taare Zameen Par (TZP), and that’s the important difference. There are three key points of difference. 

TZP was perhaps the first time this conversation was being had on such a mass scale, bringing it front and centre for many. By contrast, Sitaare Zameen Par (SZP) in 2025 is not a new conversation at all. The positive side of the social media revolution in the last two decades has made the idea of an inclusive society for people with special needs quite common. SZP is impactful because 18 years later it focuses on the ‘say-do’ gap reality of our current times. We all talk of an inclusive society. But we know we are not in our actions. And that’s why while TZP was about building awareness, SZP is about openly challenging and pushing us into walking the talk. That’s why Gulshan’s character (as a representation of the majority) is so in-your-face, and he gets it in his face quite loudly as well.

Secondly, TZP was the story of one person, one child, Ishaan Awasthi (brilliantly portrayed by Darsheel Safary), and while a beautiful story, it was the story of an ‘exception’ amongst people. TZP championed the idea that there are few people who are special and they therefore need a special environment, coaching, inputs. Whereas, SZP tells the story of many people, all who have unique needs, but not as an ‘exception’ to society, but as an integral and natural part of society. In fact, the film stretches the logic to saying everyone of us is unique and has our own quirks and abnormalities in our own special ways. Even the superb decision of casting real-life specially abled actors in the film. The genius byline, that is hammered throughout the film, nails it when it says “Sabka apna apna normal hota hai”.

The third area why TZP and SZP are differently brilliant is the emotions they evoke in the audience. TZP was an outright tear-jerker. We wanted to save Ishaan, protect him, care for him, adopt him, champion him, fight for him, and Aamir as his teacher becomes our agency in the film. It was Ishaan against the world, with Aamir and us fighting for him. SZP, while it has tearful moments, is fundamentally not a cry-athon. Each of the special youngsters is a strong, warm, kick-ass personality that doesn’t evoke sympathy, but a very ‘I get where you’re coming from, let’s resolve this together, shall we’ kind of emotion. Even with Gulshan in the beginning being an asshole with these kids and how he treats them, and then how he grows to relate to them and even the jokes about the challenges and related topics, it is handled with an adult-like maturity and ease. Getting this balance right for a topic of this sensitivity is quite an achievement.

In addition, like any other good film, it’s a very enjoyable and sweetly narrated film. There are several moments in the film that make you laugh, make you cry, make you clap, tug at your heart, tug at your mind, and give you that warm fuzzy feeling of being a parent. The moment when Guddu overcomes his fear of bathing and water through his love for animals (a mouse!). The moment when Aamir discovers his widowed mother has a boyfriend. The moment when Golu overpowers a star player of the opposing team. The many moments when Sunil demonstrates his hypochondriac nature. And so many more. 

But of special note is the final climax scene, which, like in any good sports film, is all about the final match that will decide whether they won in the end or not. This serves as the final masterstroke of the film, bringing to life the real meaning of winning in a world that has completely pivoted to an ‘us vs them’ paradigm. What would make “us” truly happy?

However, there is one important thing that does not work in the film. And again, it is an important not-so-good difference vis-à-vis TZP. The main story in TZP was about Ishaan and his journey; Aamir was an enabler. In SZP, however, the main story is about Gulshan and his journey. And even though each of the special kids is in every scene of the story, they don’t remain as the central plot. We miss the journey that Guddu, Sunil, Golu, Lotus, Sharmaji, Har Govind, and others have or could have had. Given the need for telling Gulshan’s transformation story (even though admittedly as a metaphor for the desired transformation of our society), each of the other characters ends up becoming at best a prop or a canvas in the background. And we can tell that this is not an error of omission but deliberately written this way, seen by comparing the main poster for TZP vs. SZP. In TZP, Ishaan is front and centre (with Aamir as a support). In SZP, it’s all Aamir! Gulshan’s backstory and the reason for his selfish, narrow-minded perspective are also very weak, superficially (and almost irritatingly) depicted through his weirdly-troubled-but not-so-much relationship with his estranged (or is she?) wife, Sunita (badly played by Genelia). Given the importance of Gulshan to the overall impact of the film, this is a really big miss in the film. 

This is the one reason why SZP overall ends up being less impactful than TZP was and continues to be.

All said and done, it’s a movie that must be watched and felt through. Especially during a time when Bollywood big cinema is struggling and it’s harder to get audiences into theatres (unlike 2007 when TZP was released), telling a socially important story like this is really commendable. 

The Four Seasons, Season 1, Netflix, 2025

In a world obsessed with Gen Z, comes a refreshingly Gen X show on Netflix, from renowned makers Tina Fey, Lang Fisher, and Tracey Wigfield.

A series adaptation of a 1981 cult classic Alan Alda movie, The Four Seasons is an easy 8-episode story of three couples, who, as old friends, go on holidays together once every season. Each season’s holiday is in a separate location in America, with lots of conversations, time spent with each other, doing things connecting, disconnecting, having fun, fights, and a fair amount of emotions. Well past their prime, in the throws of their own unique mid-life crises as couples, they move from one holiday to the next, discovering new sides about each other, not always liking what they see, dealing not only with their own internal anxieties and challenges due to their life stage and the choices they’ve made in their lives, but also with changing realities of their relationships with each other as friends. Do they come together or do they fall apart as they grow a little bit more through the four seasons in the year?

I use the phrase ‘refreshingly Gen X’ for this show because that’s exactly what it is. For many of us, at the same age and life stage, we can relate to the very authentic moments and emotions that the show pulls out in relationships within each of the couples as well as between the six friends individually. If there was a sweet, gentle, light, and humorous way of depicting the very clichéd idea of a mid-life crisis, it would be this show. Whether it’s the couple that gets a divorce because the man is bored of his wife and falls for a PYT (another Gen X term, thank you very much). Or the seemingly most normal couple coming apart at the seams subtly over years of not telling each other what they love or hate about each other. Or the overly romantic gay couple that are coming to grips with the right balance between love and space. 

What really hits the spot is actually not the story. Or what happens. This is not that kind of show. What works is that the writing actively steers clear of stereotypes and superficial characterisation. Each of the characters has a very human sketch and is highly nuanced, and who you can’t pinpoint as having seen in some other show. And yet, in each of the characters, you can find a truth that you’ve seen in people you know. This makes every conversation between each of the characters in the show eminently watchable. Because it’s like being part of a conversation with your friends and family. As the viewer, you’re not watching a show, you’re just the other person sitting on the next couch with these characters.

Jack (Will Forte), the gentle, nice guy that on the face of it would be perfect husband material, but not being the breadwinner of the family, mildly hypochondriac, with little initiative and a high need for attention and love, makes for a perfectly annoying husband material too. Kate (Tina Fey), Jack’s wife, the accomplished, in control, got-it-all-figured-out wife that’s running the show, but also holier-than-thou, judgemental about the people around her and who, over time, has become emotionally unavailable to the man she actually loves very much. Nick (Steve Carell), divorcing his wife of 25 years, being with a younger woman, living the dream and actually happy with it, yet missing his own age group and friends. Anne (Kerri Kenney-Silver), Nick’s wife, being the grieving and bitter divorcee, but also wondering if they really did have a marriage worth saving or was it just a habit that she had gotten comfortable with. Danny (Colman Domingo) as the strong, independent, successful architect, living life on his own terms, but also dealing with a health issue more with denial than with action. Claude (Marco Calvani) as Danny’s husband, who loves Danny more than anything else but also obsessively so much that it comes close to breaking them apart.

The actors do a fabulous job of their characters. The story is told in a simple, heart-warming way. The humour is light. And the moments and the relationships are beautifully depicted.

Romantic Comedy, as the show is being called, is not really how I would describe it. Is it romantic? Perhaps, in its vision of putting people in their everyday lives at the centre of the storytelling. Nothing grand or dramatic. Is it a comedy? Perhaps, in the way it brings about a light and humorous take on the very real emotions and relationships that make people happy or unhappy on a daily basis. But it’s not a rom-com. It’s not about people falling in love. It’s about how love is experienced in a marriage after the magic and the honeymoon are over. It’s not about two people and their ups and downs in getting together or not. It’s about how it’s not just the two people that matter, but how they matter together and separately to each other and to others. It’s not about the trials and tribulations of the beating hearts. It’s about the trials and tribulations of life and how it takes over and yet how we make the best of our lives and relationships.

And that’s why it’s so refreshingly Gen X. It’s a grown-up show, with grown-up emotions, and grown-up lives. Even though we may deal with it in a childish manner. Like I said, refreshingly Gen X!

To all the people of my generation, watch it, because this is us, is what we feel and see around us.

To the Millennials, watch it, because it will remind you not to take yourselves so seriously.

To the Gen Zs, watch it, because it will help you appreciate why your parents also have moods.

The White Lotus, Season 3, HBO Jio Hot Star

It’s quite well established, and I feel the same, that HBO programming is by far the best when it comes to the art of powerful storytelling brought to life with brilliant production values. They consistently hit out of the park, be it block buster shows like Sex and the City, Game of Thrones, Succession, or the smaller less popular niche shows like The Outsider, Mare of East Town, Chernobyl. 

It’s no wonder then, The White Lotus, with two seasons (2021 and 2023), has been an Emmy award winning show that we can’t get enough of. The draw of the show can be seen from the fact, that it’s one of the few shows that still drops one episode every week, so unless you wait for the entire season to be over to binge watch (by which time you’ve probably died of FOMO), you have to watch it in the old fashion way of waiting every week to watch the next episode. 

The White Lotus is brilliant because it achieves this rare combination of building memorable and very real characters, a riveting storyline underpinned by a who-was-it guessing of an imminent death in every season, and a shock-n-awe rawness of the human nature, while all through making a sharp and biting commentary on the deeply flawed (and often dark) nature of the people and the modern-day society we live in. We can see how rare this is, because it takes a special craft of nuanced writing and subtle story telling that very few are able to achieve.  If you want to know what I mean, watch The Perfect Couple, which is Netflix’s attempt at doing a White Lotus and you will see why this story telling is not everyone’s glass of wine.

In many ways, conceptually, The White Lotus formula is simple and and that’s why it works. A bunch of strangers/families on holiday for a week at The White Lotus resort (Season One in Hawaii, Two in Sicily, Three in Ko Samui), managed by a diverse staff, interacting with myriad other local people, all with their own uniquely-flawed personalities, resulting in a melting pot of heightened emotions, multiple conflicts, illicit escapades, deep self-discovery, hilarious consequences, disturbing realisations, and eventually as the final climax, one or more deaths, and more importantly many salvations. The beauty is not in the central idea of the plot. The beauty is in the execution and the detailing of the story and the dialogues and the emotions and the characters. That’s what makes the difference. This TV show proves the point that ideas are a dime a dozen, but how you bring it to life on the screen is where the genius lies. 1% inspiration. 99% perspiration.

But, the winning stroke of the show is the characters that are built. All played by excellent actors and performances. Across all 3 seasons, this is the one thing that hits the spot again and again. None of the characters are stereotypical cliches we see in most of the content we consume. Every season has a large number of characters, and yet each one of them remain in your memory forever, as distinct people you’ve met. In Season 1, the rich white dysfunctional family, led by a successful corporate career woman, the not-so-straight (in many ways) hotel manager, the honeymooning couple with a post-wedding crisis, the aspiring massage therapist. In Season 2, the sexually-incompatible young couple, the overly romantic-but-infidel other younger couple, the three-generation granddad-father-son out to discover their Italian roots, the next not-so-straight hotel manager, the aspiring local escort girls, the lost-in-life assistant of a wealthy heiress, the dark stranger amidst a seemingly-harmless-but-darker Italian gay wealthy society, and the continued characters of the wayward ex-marine-fishing-man with the lonely, idiosyncratic rich woman, played brilliantly by the inimitable Jennifer Coolidge, who deservedly won the Emmy for her performance. In Season 3, another rich white dysfunctional family, a group of complexed and insecure girl friends, two young women-married-to-rich-old-men-with-dark-pasts with their own crosses to bear, an innocent and conflicted local security guard, the still-aspiring massage therapist from Season 1, and the memorable and varied distinct crew and staff of the hotel, including an under-confident hotel manager, a powerful and vain hotel owner, a not-what-you-see Russian massage therapist, and more.

However, despite the strong characters and superb performances by the actors, Season 3 is disappointing and fails to hit the mark. Many of the ingredients are still there, especially the production values. Beautiful picture-framing-worthy shots and scenes, menacing and ominous background music, the immersive experience of this Ko Samui resort and nearby Thai environment, the suspense of who will die this time. But what is missing is a strong story around the characters and how it uniquely intertwines with the personal journeys of their lives. The characters are complex, but the path that their story takes through the 8 episodes is linear and underwhelming, and the eventual ending of their one-week holiday doesn’t seem to have either moved them forward in their lives, or given a new direction or angle. It’s as if the week in The White Lotus was just a temporary blip in their lives, after which they go back to where they were, without a dramatic change. This is what is fundamentally different between Season 3 and the first two seasons. First two seasons depicted The White Lotus almost as a metaphor of transformation that these characters go through as a result of the week there. From being an idealist to a pragmatist. From a romantic to a cynic. From being alienated to being connected. From being unhappily single to becoming unhappily together. From delusional to real. From alive to dead! Alas, Season 3 is not able to build this narrative strongly. The attempt is there for example, in  the white family coming to terms with their lack of wealth or the girl friends becoming closer, but its not built powerfully enough throughout the story and at best becomes a lip service in the last episode that then fails to ring true as we close the Season.

Having said that, my belief in HBO and Mike White (the creator of the show) still remains. Because 2 out of 3 is not a bad record at all. So here’s hoping that the feedback reaches them and Season 4 comes back with a bang to tell the story of this best resort in the world, and how it transforms the lives of many that come for a holiday as well as those that don’t. Until the next season…. 

The Vegetarian, Han Kang - Book Review

There’s always something special about reading a Booker Prize winning novel (see the last Booker novel I reviewed https://books-booze-boxoffice.blogspot.com/2022/12/the-seven-moons-of-maali-almeida-shehan.html). We are very aware from the beginning that the book is critically acclaimed, and therefore know that there’s a high chance that lay-people like us, will either not relate to it, or will not like it. Imagine then my anticipation and guarded approach to a novel that is not just a Man Booker International Prize winner (2016), but also the Nobel Prize in Literature winner (2024).

The Vegetarian tells the story of Yeong-hye and her immediate family, and how her one decision of turning into a vegetarian and giving up all kind of meat, turns her and her family’s life completely upside down, triggering a series of disruptive incidents that pulls her and the people closest to her in different directions, and sets them on a profound and irreversible path towards destruction or redemption or both.

Did I like the book? I’ve realised that this is a difficult question to answer for a Booker novel. If ‘liking’ a book means did I enjoy reading it, was it entertaining, did it bring a smile on my face, was there fun and joy in it, the answer is ‘No’. But if ‘liking’ a book means did it move us, shake us, disrupt us, shock us, gave us an insight into the world and its many complex facets that we otherwise don’t see in our own livesthen the answer is an overwhelming ‘Yes’.

The story is told in three parts, each narrated in the first person by different protagonists in the story. The first part (The Vegetarian), is from the perspective of Mr. Cheong, Yeong-hye’s husband, who watches in frustration as his married life transforms from a highly ordinary one to a shockingly extra-ordinary one, as his wife slowly fades away from food, relationships, life and sanity. The second part (Mongolian Mark), is from the perspective of Yeong-hye’s brother-in-law (her sister’s husband), a wayward mal-adjusted artist, who becomes obsessed with the idea of creating an erotic masterpiece of body-painting and videography of Yeong-hye and himself, delivering the artistic satisfaction that had been eluding him all this while, but also ending his family forever. The third and the final part (Flaming Trees), is from the perspective of In-hye, Yeong-hye’s sister, who, now as a single mom, becomes the only care-giver for her sister, now in a psychiatric hospital, trying in-vain to rescue her from slowly decaying because of her refusal to eat anything at all; and in the process, finally giving into her own life’s pain, helplessness and imprisonment .

While it takes a while to really get into the book, taking some time to feel the translated Korean writing, the cultural context, and the slightly-bizarre story, it quickly has us hooked into a very subtle but deep reality of our modern day urban lives and the absurdity of the choices we make, who’s disastrous consequences we suffer all our lives. The magic of the book is that it moves from something completely un-relatable to something that is so-relatable that we eventually know it’s a story about all of us. The central premise of the story is a commentary on how far and disconnected man has become from not only nature but everything organic and real on this planet. In line with Yuval Noah Harari’s premise of our biology out of sync with our history, the book comments on the completely un-natural construct of our society that fundamentally conflicts with our animal nature. It shows us the mirror on the fact that despite years of championing individuality and personal choice, in essence we are still a society that promotes falling-in-line and choosing accepted norms, and has zero tolerance for a truly different path in life. The book digs up the inherent dark-ness hidden behind closed doors, from misogyny to child abuse to sexual dissatisfaction and dysfunctional relationships.  

The fact that the novel is from of Seoul, perhaps the poster child for a 20th century developed Asian economy model, is extremely poignant. Seeing this along with other award winning Korean content (eg. Parasite, Train to Busan, even the last Korean book I read, Almond by Sohn Wong-Pyung), one can’t help feeling it as a potential ‘warning sign’ for the rest of us Asian countries, of how “not to”become a developed nation, 2047 or whenever! What’s that quote that says ‘don’t confuse development with progress’.

As the story comes to an end, the main thought we are left behind with and perhaps the biggest truth of our lives, is that of ENTROPY. Entropy is where our universe began and entropy is where it is headed. We know that the more we try to bring order and control to our lives, the more it slips away into disorder, randomness and uncertainty. The seemingly logical choices we make everyday only exacerbates the irreversibility of this entropy. And whether we like it or not, we are rapidly hurtling down a path of no-return. And the sooner we realise the inevitability of this truth, the sooner we can be free….  And that’s the genius and the award-worthiness of this fascinating novel.

A Complete Unknown, 2024 - Film Review

“How many roads must a man walk down, before you could call him a man”, might just be the most defining question that everyone lives with everyday in every generation, from the beginning of time. And yet it takes a genius poet to call it out in a way that makes it the iconic question of all times. And a cult song for our hearts.

A Complete Unknown, is the story of the early making years of the legend, the icon, and the only songwriter to win the Nobel prize for literature, the one and only Bob Dylan. Set between the period 1961-1965, the film depicts the journey of Bobby Dylan, beginning with him coming to New York from small town America to play folk music, connecting with his folk music icon Woody Guthrie, taken under his wing by Pete Seeger to grow the independent folk music culture against the backdrop of a troubled time in American history, at the peak of Cold War, Nam, Kennedy assassination, Cuba, and other related tumultuous events. As America transforms during this period, so does Bob Dylan and his music, as he follows his own path in music culture, across ups and downs in his personal and professional relationships, setting the foundation years for the legacy music of Bob Dylan, as we know today, influenced and shaped by key personalities and talents of the day like Joan Baez, Johnny Cash,  Pete Seeger, and Woody Guthrie.

For all Bob Dylan fans, this movie is a must-watch. For many of us, who listened ardently to his music in our youth, we know what his music has meant to us. His music has been part of our identity making, being not only the wise counsel for our confused minds, but also an irreverent truth-shaming of a world that fundamentally makes no sense. As we stepped into the world of adult-hood, when he sang ‘Like a Rolling Stone’, he reminded us that not only are we a ‘complete unknown’ in the crowd, but so are the supposed adults who are running the world. When we were unsure about how to manage our relationships, and balance our own selfishness with respect for our women, we had Just Like a Woman telling us just that. In our dark times, when nothing made any sense and we were ready to quit, he gave us a crying shoulder in ‘Knockin on Heaven’s Door’, letting us get it all out, so we could get back to our life the next morning. When we got smug and confident in things we are doing, achieving, winning, he reminded us not to get too arrogant or become part of the same world that didn’t make sense just a few years ago by singing ‘The Times They Are a Changing’. And, (and this one is my most favourite), as we grew up and got busy with our busy modern lives, making money, having a family, and playing our part in the running of this world, he left us with the most beautiful prayer and wish that can be called nothing short of a guide for how to live your life, in Forever Young’, a poem that is still my facebook cover.

The film captures beautifully a unique time in America, which itself is going through an identity crisis, even as the youth of that generation are going through theirs. During a time when the entire zeitgeist was asking more questions than getting answers, Bob Dylan’s coming of age and coming of fame is perfectly intertwined and almost an inevitability. His journey of a gradual and very natural evolution from a folk music singer to almost a prophet of his time is brilliantly captured. Even as his folk music mentors and peers look with aghast and betrayal at Dylan’s journey, we see how this could be the only path for him. Because Dylan is special. He is built differently from the rest. He follows his own path, listens to the rhythm of his own soul, sees what others don’t, feels what others can’t. And that’s why he must go, he has to move on, he cannot give Sylvie the love and commitment she wants from him, he cannot play to the crowd and be a partner-in-crime to Joan Baez. Inherently an explorer, a contrarian, an independent mind, and a free spirit, Dylan was born this way. 

All the actors are brilliant, Edward Norton as Pete Seeger, Elle Fanning as Sylvie, Monica Barbaro as the talented Joan Baez, all deliver authentic and powerful performances. But above all Timothy Chalamet hits it out of the park. He is Bob Dylan incarnate. This young talented actor once again impresses us with potently profound portrayal of the legend that is Bob Dylan. Fantastic! 

This film is a brilliant and a perfect ode to his music, immersing us in this world, making us move with joy and soul, as we not only enjoy the music we’ve known and loved for years, but also feel the entire context of when and how the music was created, completing the picture and the experience for us. Perhaps this film was the missing puzzle in our personal Bob Dylan journey that has now been plugged in. And for that, we say thank you. A celebration and a 2.5 hours immersion into the world of Bob Dylan, his music and his times. Nothing like it. Enjoy it.. Thank you James Mangold for making this film and bringing back Dylan in our lives again after all these years. It feels like we need him once again, more than ever!

As we finish the reflection on the question posed in the beginning ‘how many roads must a man walk down’, we are rightfully reminded by the song and the movie itself, that it is always the questions that make the difference, the questions that change the world, the questions that move us forward, because ‘the answer my friend is always blowin in the wind, the answer is blowin in the wind’  

Conclave, 2024 - Movie Review

The Oscar fever begins with one of the nominees of this year’s best picture, Conclave, hitting the screens for all of us movie buffs to celebrate the season of Hollywood’s best (allegedly). 

The film revolves around the political intrigue and drama that ensues after the sudden and unexpected death of the Pope, towards electing the next head of the most important Christian institution in the world, with a momentous gathering of all the cardinals from around the world. As the Conclave begins, and the voting starts, the desire for power amongst the most popular candidates is blatantly on display, the ugly politics within the most sacred institution is shamelessly seen, and the very human fallibility of these supposed holy messengers of God is exposed one by one, leading to a potential crisis of the lack of a clear leader, but eventually the choice of an unexpected-but-the-right Holy Father.

In many ways, the film is the perfect reflection of the reality of our times. (In fact, as we watch this in February 2025, it’s an extremely eery ‘art mimics life and life mimics art’ moment, where the Pope has actually been taken severely ill, as I write this!). A time, when the biggest war being fought in the world today is not Russia-Ukraine or Israel-Hamas, but the war between Liberals and Conservatives. This is a war that is being fought in every single country in the world, by every single society, within every single family and amongst every single group of friends. What till a few years ago was an individual choice of a way of life, has escalated into the most fundamental ‘us vs. them ’ in all of our lives. And with most democracies around the world pivoting to the right, it seems like this conversation (conflict? War?) is going to be one of the most defining themes of the coming decade (if not longer).

In this context, the the point of view that the film propagates (as one would expect Hollywood from LA to) hits the mark in a poignant way. Perhaps the best and the most defining scene in the film is the opening speech of the Conclave, that Cardinal Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) delivers. His message of a hope for a new Pope that is human and fallible, who operates with doubt and rejects dogma, is the moment that captures in a few words, the essence of what being a liberal is all about. In making certainty the main enemy of mankind and celebrating doubt as a virtue, the film nails it.

The talented actors, as expected, deliver stunning performances. Ralph Fiennes as the protagonist brilliantly portrays the role of the dean thrown in the middle of delivering the most important decision in the Catholic world, trying to manage his own conflicts against his duties. Stanley Tucci, as Cardinal Bellini, the power hungry passionate liberal candidate, Lucian Msamati, as the initial most popular black candidate, John Litgow, as the unscrupulous Cardinal Tremblay, Sergio Castellito, as the hard Conservative Cardinal Tedesco, and Isabella Rossellini, as subtle-but-strong Sister Agnes. All of them deliver power packed characters that stay with us much after the film. This coupled with an immersive and Nolan-style cinematography and sound, makes for a good theatre-watching movie.

However, despite all this, as the film ends after the final climax is revealed (with the predictable victory for the liberal school of thought) we walk out feeling under-whelmed and un-moved. It’s the feeling of having been on a deeply engaging and emotional conversation with a really close friend, but after the conversation ended, feeling unheard or unsatisfied, resulting in not only us not getting closer, but actually pulling us a little bit apart. 

This is because of two failings in the film. One, after having made the case for the dire need for liberal and inclusive humanity more than ever (which we cheer for), the film gives very little new perspectives. As a result, for all the liberals watching this film, it ends up preaching to the converted, without offering any new insight or emotion. On the other hand, for all the conservatives watching this film, it is not hard hitting enough to even start an alternate conversation. Even the shaming of Cardinal Tedesco by the lesser known Cardinal Benitez, ends up being a weak attempt at the end.

The second failing of the film is the surprisingly unimpressive story-telling. At the end of the day a movie needs to engage and entertain as much as having a POV. But the long drawn scenes of voting, the lack of engaging dialogues, a missing narrative of what’s happening apart from the inevitable election of the Pope, all leaves us dissatisfied with the time we spent together with this film. Suffice it to say, that we put this film, in the list of the many Oscar films, that we know are there for their political or social view,  but in the end are not films we enjoyed watching. On to the next Oscar nominee…

Kill, 2023, Movie Review

The truth is that there aren't enough good action movies in the world, and even less so in Bollywood, that has always anchored its centre of gravity in romance, drama, comedy and patriotism as its chief genres. And that’s why, once in a while, when a kick-ass action film comes our way, we lap it up like a hungry dog that’s not been fed its favourite meat for days. Kill, directed by the talented writer-director Nikhil Nagesh Bhat, now streaming on Disney+Hotstar, is all this and much more. 

The plot is simple. A train from Ranchi to Delhi, gets overtaken by local dacoits with a plan to loot the passengers. Their simple plan goes fast goes out of control when the protagonist, Capt Amrit Rathod and his friend Viresh (both from the NSG), fight back, both to resist the dacoitry as well as to protect Rathod’s girlfriend and her family, who are also traveling in the same train. What ensues is a brutal kill-a-thon as the bad guys start killing vulnerable people in the train including people dear to Rathod, and Rathod returning the compliment 10 times more violent, till the very end.

Simply put the film is “bloody” fantastic. It’s bloody AND it’s fantastic. The action sequences, almost entirely without guns, deliver the adrenaline pumping rush that one desires from an action film. The fights are heart thumping. The killing is violent. The good people dying is heart-breaking. And the vengeance is sweet and intense. Just what we want from a great violent kill-fest, like Kill Bill, or John Wick.

Lakshya, the new actor, as Capt Amrit Rathod, is an absolute joy to watch. As he goes about wrecking hell on the bad guys, single-handedly destroying the entire clan of bandits, we can’t help but cheer and join the crowd that wants each and every of these merciless dacoits to not only die but to suffer in extreme agony before they do. As the trained NSG commando, Lakshya is both believable and impactful. The sheer intensity of his rage and the control of his body language as he lands the punches, is what makes this movie. Raghav Juyal, popularly known as Crockroaxz, from many dance-reality TV shows, is absolutely brilliant as the main bad guy, who we want desperately to get tortured and murdered. The supporting cast do a great job as well to serve as the background against which to enjoy the meaningfulness of the action, with Tanya Maniktala, as Tulika, Rathod’s girlfriend, Ashish Vidyarthi, as the paternal leader of the dacoits pack, and Abhishek Chauhan, as Viresh, Rathod’s best friend.

Even as we relish every head getting smashed, every neck getting sliced, every chest getting pierced, and even a face getting set on fire, we cant help wonder and even feel shocked at our own anger and at the deep-seated violence within us, that is making us enjoy this blood and gore. While at one level it connects us with one of our basest animal instinct of fight (over flight), at another level it gives us a moment of release amidst our bottled-up privileged city lives. And that’s why it’s no wonder that it’s a Karan Johar production. It is meant for us, city-dwellers, living far away from the reality of dacoits and hinterland, far enough to enjoy it as entertainment and not reality. It’s also mildly disturbing to think that in an extremely unequal society of ours, this film celebrates the violence that a relatively upper income side of society (Rathod and his rich and politically connected girlfriend’s family) inflicts on the poorer section of society (the dacoits from Bihar). Yes, the bad guys deserve what they get. But, one can’t help wonder the subtle positioning of who’ s good and who’ s bad. Should we be worried of an emerging trend or narrative of the rich feeling like victims?

Nevertheless, the one hour forty-five minutes on this train to Delhi is literally a ride that is worth every minute. A non-stop no-breather full on power packed experience that we haven’t had in a very long time. Kill, is one of the finest that modern Bollywood can offer and a shot in the arm for an other wise lack-lustre identity crisis that the industry is having. I really hope there is a sequence to Kill (like John Wick and Kill Bill) where the fights get bigger, better, bolder. More power to you Nikhil Nagesh Bhat.