Reviews

Which about sums it up. For all the talk of songless-ness and being different and reinventing the genre (if remaking it in the standard Hollywood mode can be called reinvention; perhaps 'rescuing it from the Ramseys and the white-sari-clad woman with a blood-streaked face' is more appropriate) - all of which were true - what mattered in the end was whether this film could sustain the tension and make you empathise with the characters. And it did. The background score is really effective; camerawork is creative; the leads act flawlessly; there's a liberal sprinkling of red herrings, the characters are believable, and we're spared the quasi-religious mumbo-jumbo that mars so many films in this genre. While making a horror film is inherently a derivative process, Bhoot manages to avoid seeming cliched, both by the standards of Hindi filmdom (okay, that's not hard - the absence of either a dak bangla or a kabristan, as well as the aforementioned white sari, pretty much ensures that) as well as, to a lesser extent, Hollywood (which it is closer to in 'spirit'). Not by any means a pathbreaking film, but a very well-made one nonetheless. Excellent! Go watch it!

Company is a very taut, very dark look at the ruthlessness with which the Mumbai underworld syndicates operate, and the games people play when their only motivations are greed, power-lust and more than a little pride. It focuses on how important inter-personal relationships are to the success of any business venture (here, the venture happens to be organised crime), and how the fraying of such relationships can be used effectively by law-enforcement agencies to bust gangs like the Company of the title.

Performances: spot on. Ajay Devgan is chilling yet wonderfully controlled in one of the two leading roles, and Vivek Oberoi's intensity in his role as the violent, ruthless yet eventually human underling is riveting. The women's roles are small but well-written and well-performed; all three - Antara Mali, Manisha Koirala, and Seema Biswas - do a good job. Mohanlal is also excellent, and I actually thought his Malayalam-accented Hindi was perfect for the role.

At times, watching Company was like watching a particularly well-crafted documentary. I love the way Ram Gopal Verma depicts Mumbai in all its raw, hustling energy. The locations all seemed very real, as did the situations, characters and dialogue (which was realistic and street-smart without being particularly profane, which I think was quite an achievement). I also liked the fact that the voiceover was in the same slightly edgy dialect of Mumbaiyya Hindi, so that one felt like the speaker was a part of the same world as the protagonists.

My only problem with the film was that I found Chowta's background score over-loud and often jarring in its attempt to build up mood when the director was doing so very successfully anyway, leading to it seeming redundant and sometimes irritating. There were moments when it overshadowed the dialogue, and this was really annoying. Over-emphasis is something this film could have done without, and it is this that holds me back from calling Company a total triumph. Pity. Khallas is a great song, though. :-)

Interestingly, the film manages to combine esentially amoral characters with an eventual denouement that drives home a moral message (very subtly, though). I'm not sure where I stand on this, I tend to see the 'good guys win eventually' message as something of a cop-out to the conventions of Hindi cinema. Nonetheless, if this makes the film more palatable to mainstream audiences, so be it. I'm particularly interested to see how a film like this, which for all intents and purposes pushes the boundaries of 'Bollywood' film-making in a totally new direction with its absence of conventional songs, extremely moody lighting, heroes who really aren't that heroic, realism in dialogue, characterisation and setting, and very flashy, almost MTV-like editing, (all things that have been tried in the last two years in several Hindi films, but not together and not with so much skill)does at the Indian box office. If it succeeds, then it proves that the success (however limited) of Satya, Chandni Bar, Lagaan and Dil Chahta Hai, which in their own way moved Hindi cinema away from the formula, was not a flash in the pan, and will hopefully inspire more experimentation. What's certain is that with this film Verma has proven that he is perhaps the most innovative mainstream film-maker in India today, and I await more films from him with interest. He seems to be getting better with every film.

Overall, a must-watch, especially if you like the gangster/noir genre.

I grew up in New Delhi, where this film is set, so perhaps I had an easier time identifying with the situations and issues in this film than the average viewer - and I throughly enjoyed it.

Mira Nair has really managed to capture the mix of confusion, chaos and sheer fun that is typical of all Indian weddings (which is often the only time most members of an extended family manage to actually meet up), along with the 'ostentation' and sheer joie-de-vivre that typifies the specifically Punjabi variant of the Indian wedding (cue the singing and dancing, which was grrreat), without shying away from tackling some serious issues that often lie under the surface in many families, and the complex dynamics of the interaction between members of an extended family. One great thing about this film for me was that it captured how a lot of people feel about the extended family - not always pleasant or easy to deal with, with lots of internal tensions, often messy, but in the end something one would be loath to not have around in the background, and a source of strength.

What differentiated this film from a lot of movies from India that focus on weddings was its sheer authenticity. Every character seemed real. The language was perfect - this is how people like us speak when we're in India (or with others from India or Pakistan) - a mixture of Hindi, English and any other language we happen to have in common, usually in the space of a single sentence. This is probably not easy for people who haven't grown up in multi-lingual societies to appreciate, but this is exactly what it is like and for us it's as natural as speaking in English all the time is for your average American. It does seem to be beyond the abilites of many people who've reviewed the film on this site to understand though, but I suspect this is sheer laziness. I watched it with Americans, Colombians and Mexicans, and everyone loved it. As for the accents: well, that's how Punjabis speak English, so too bad if you find it tough to understand. I found the accents in Gone with the Wind incomprehensible, too. :)I'm really glad Mira Nair didn't compromise with the complexities of spoken 'Hinglish' to make the film more comprehensible for an international audience, as that would have robbed the film of one of its principal charms. Contrast this with the atrocious dialogue in Fire', which rang false for every moment of its running time.

On to specifics: I thought Naseeruddin Shah, Shefali Shetty and Vijay Raaz were simply superb, and also liked Lilette Dubey's turn as a typical upper-middle-class Punjabi housewife a lot. Naseer is such a wonderful actor, and it was a pleasure to see him tackle a role that was good enough for him, after a long time. He handled comedy, frustration, tenderness, confusion, pride, ... all with typical ease. Ditto for Shefali, a well-known TV star in India, in her first big-screen role (as far as I know). Hope to see more of her! Tillottama Shome as Alice looked lovely and acted really convincingly too, and Vijay Raaz's paan-chewing (or should that be marigold-scoffing?) Bihari tent-man was both hilarious in his exasperating-ness, and touching in his eventual genuineness.

Another high point was the soundtrack, with its mixture of Hindi filmi hits (old and new), Punjabi bhangra, and ghazals and for once a traditional Punjabi wedding song (unlike the syrupy versions Hindi films are replete with).

Also, I liked the fact that no attempt was made in the outdoor shots to make Delhi, which I love but which is in many parts a chaotic mess :)) look prettier or more sanitised than it is. The city looked totally real, which is hardly surprising given that everything was shot on location and as a resident of the city, I could actually work out where the Vermas lived, went shopping, and so on. This is the most accurate depiction of life as I know it that I have seen on-screen, ever. If you're an upper-middle-class Punjabi, this is how you live, eat , speak, marry ....

So overall, very authentic, very real, very amusing, very satisfying. Only quibbles are perhaps that I couldn't work out why the hell Aditi was seeing that sleaze Vikram (unless he was just amazing in bed or something) and I did find Vikram's talk show a bit much and a slightly unsubtle way of introducing the 'culture-clash' motif.

Andaz is considered one of the all-time classics of early post-independence Hindi cinema, and the 'original' love triangle of Hindi film. Set among the (at least superficially) extremely Westernised upper-crust of metropolitan Indian society, Andaz tackles the perennial question of the feasibility of a purely platonic friendship between members of the opposite sex. This is a valid issue, but where I think the film errs is in equating one possible answer to the question with Westernisation and the other with Indian-ness, which to me is simplistic and therefore unsatisfactory. This flaw apart, however, Andaaz makes for very satisfying viewing, and feels fresh and topical , and very modern, in terms of both content, characterisation, and presentation (extremely glossy!) even today, 53 years after its release.

Neena (Nargis in a breakthrough performance that established her as the reigning female superstar of Indian cinema)is the headstrong, slightly tomboyish, and wonderfully free-spirited (and perhaps slightly naive) only child of a milllionaire. Out riding one day, she loses control of her horse and is rescued by Dilip (Dilip Kumar) with whom she becomes fast friends, in spite of her father's misgivings about such a friendship and its potential for misinterpretation. Dilip proves to be a reliable friend, to whom Neena turns when her father passes away, making him a partner in her business; but it is clear from the start that Dilip's feelings extend beyond friendship; he is falling in love with this charming young woman. However, Neena is in love with Rajan, who is away in London; and when he returns she picks up the threads of their relationship. Dilip reveals his love for Neena to her on her wedding night, though she loves only Rajan. However, the path of true love is rarely smooth, and Rajan's suspicions about his wife's relationship with Dilip lead to tensions between him and Neena, leading eventually to the melodramatic (but surprisingly effective) tragic denouement.

Andaaz has a sparkling script, peppered with witty conversations between both the lead pairs which is pitched just right, and Mehmood's direction is polished and intelligent. The ostensible theme is a conflict betwen tradition and modernity (equated here with 'India' and the 'West', with the director firmly on the side of the former) but although I was not convinced by this premise, it worked wonderfully as an engaging romantic comedy for the first half, and a dramatic tour-de-force in the second.

However, the key to Andaaz's success in my opinion is a virtually perfect central performance by Nargis. She plays the many shades of the complex character of Neena to perfection, growing from the carefree, tomboyish girl of the beginning (just watch her in the charming opening sequence as she gets dressed in her jodhpurs and strides out to go riding - this is masterful filmmaking and acting, establishing a character in a few frames) to the intense, morally conflicted yet steadfast woman of the latter half with elan. Her body language is pleasure to watch - immensely confident, especially in her interaction with the male leads, yet wonderfully controlled in the moments of high drama. Rarely have I seen such a well-modulated, self-assured performance, though it helps of course that Nargis had a complex, not entirely unambiguous character to play with, and that the film revolves around her. Nonetheless, for me watching Nargis in this film was added confirmation of her immense talent, and it is amazing to think that she was barely a few films old and 19 years old when it was made! Watch her in the scene where she and her father discuss the central dilemma of the plot; her use of her body language to situate her mental state and their relationship is very polished. Of course, she looks luminous, aided in no small measure by Faredoon Irani's glossy cinematography, and her on-screen chemistry with both heroes is a pleasure to watch. She had a beautiful speaking voice too, capturing shades of emotion with ease without overacting or sounding shrill or screechy. Her singing voice is a young Lata, imitating Noorjehan, which to my mind is a good thing since it's a better fit than Lata's later, shriller, vocals.

The male leads are a great foil for each other, and for Nargis. Raj Kapoor is good, though he does overplay sometimes. Dilip Kumar is, as always, magnificent in his restraint and the depth he brings to his character. Although his character is not entirely a pleasant one in the final analysis, one sympathises with him. The supporting cast are good too, especially Cuckoo as Neena's friend Sheela (who is given to dancing sexily at parties, an added bonus), and the guy who plays Neena's father. Even the mandatory comedy track involving an old Professor of Rajan's, is actually funny and actually makes some of the points the director is seeking to make, only with humour thrown in. Perhaps a bit redundant, especially given that the interaction of the principal characters is often funny enough, peppered as it is with witty lines, but it isn't annoying as these things sometimes can be.

This is a great film, strikingly modern in tone and feel though it is over half a century old. Whether or not one is convinced by its eventual rejection of 'the modern West' in favour of 'traditional India', it is well worth a watch, not only for itself but because some of the set pieces and situations from this film have come over time to be part of the stock-in-trade of the Indian commercial film-maker (though rarely has this level of accomplishment been achieved), so that if you're interested in seeing how the grammar and vocabulary of Hindi films has evolved over time, this is crucial reference viewing. Great actors, great script, great direction, great film.

I think that a film like Lagaan, while good cinema in general, is also a particularly successful realization set of ideas that differentiates Indian commercial cinema from films made elsewhere in the world, and that some understanding of this background makes it and other films like it more accessible to an audience used to the conventions of Western film-making.

In my opinion, commercial Indian cinema (whether Hindi, Tamil, Bengali ..) derives its basic aesthetic parameters from the 'navarasa' theory governing the conception of the performing arts in ancient India, most famously delineated in the Natyashastra, the treatise on classical dance. In classical Sanskrit drama, there is no differentiation into comedy, tragedy, etc. Instead, the purpose of art is to achieve the right mixture between the nine principal 'rasas' (literally: juices) - e.g. love, fear, the grotesque, pity, anger, the erotic, and a few more. Performing art is said to have succeeded if the right balance is achieved, in which case the viewer should find himself/herself in a state of 'ananda' (roughly 'bliss'). (Okay, I know this is dangerously reductive, but you get the general idea). The parallel with the idea behind calling Hindi commercial films 'masala' films is obvious, but whereas that term is usually used derogatorily, I think there is a real, powerful idea behind its notion of spices being blended together to achieve the right balance of tastes.

Now I'm not suggesting that all commercial Hindi films either consciously try to do this, or indeed that those (if any) that do often succeed. But the historical and cultural justification in the use of comedy, tragedy, heroism, villainy, etc. in the space of a few reels, as typical of Hindi films, derives in my opinion precisely from this. Add to this the absence in the Indian traditional performing arts of boundaries separating dance, music, and acting, so that one artistic form is often an integral part of another, and you have a clearer idea of why Hindi films are what they are. Of course, often this reduces to a 'formula' for mindless inanity and clichés, but when a film or a play successfully grapples with the complex notion above, the result can be a very satisfying kind of film, which I think Lagaan - very much in the tradition of early Raj Kapoor films (Awaara, Shree 420) , and of films such as Sholay, Ganga Jamuna or Mother India - is.

In fact, Lagaan struck me as one of the most perfect examples of the navarasa idea put into practice that I have seen recently. (Ironically, the last film I felt this about was Life Is Beautiful, which of course wasn't Indian at all, but I think it succeeded in striking precisely the right emotional balance, leading in the end to a cathartic experience for the viewer). In presenting a diverse, well-etched out cast of characters, Lagaan manages to evoke a series of different but related emotional responses from the viewer, which does in the end lead to precisely the sort of contentment that the ancients envisaged. It makes it all come together magnificently - I think a lot of Indian filmmakers try this, but it's very difficult to keep the balance and so few succeed. Lagaan, however, manages to pull it off - high drama is tempered with down-to-earth humour (and such humour; its sheer earthiness is a triumph); potential tragedy gives way to romance - but at all times, the balance is maintained so that each episode furthers the narrative and ensures that the viewer is drawn into the lives of the characters (whose very diversity and real-ness is exemplary - very soon, you actually care about these ordinary but highly individual folk and their lives), their concerns, motivations and the constraints governing their lives, but is never bored, and one's interest in the (admittedly predictable) eventual denouement never flags.

Where Lagaan also works magnificently is as an allegory for the struggle for independence from British rule. It's foolish to take the film literally, as some disenchanted viewers have done. Of course the fate of the Empire wasn't decided on the whims of capricious commanding officers and cricket matches. Rather, Lagaan is best viewed as a symbolic representation of how people from different backgrounds, castes and communities came together to fight for India's independence, a message it gets across with considerable subtlety but also pretty effectively.

Of course, another level at which it operates is a pretty clever comment on the role of race and racism in the world of cricket, which has been an issue from the first years when Indians started playing cricket for the British and is one even today (to wit the current power struggles within the cricketing establishment). Lagaan lays a stake to the game on behalf of the Subcontinent, but doesn't unnecessarily demonize the British in the process. It's also a very amusing introduction to the game for the uninitiated, while being a catalogue of the main issues in cricket's history for the more seasoned. Brilliant!

Thirdly, Lagaan is notable for a return to the original idea behind songs and dances in Indian cinema: to move the story forward, to allow the 'unsayable' (whether thoughts or dreams) to be expressed in music. This too it does most elegantly, with Rehman's beautiful score, which is simultaneously modern and folksy. This is something Indian films used to excel in, but over the years the songs have become gratuitous (of course they can still be fun, but it helps if they fulfil this role too). Lagaan thankfully reverses this trend.

Finally - I can't agree more with the person who said that Lagaan is quite different from Ray's work but is also enjoyable without being directly comparable to his films (which I love). I had said much the same in my first review. Ray's humanism was on a different scale from Lagaan's magnificently broad canvas. Ray's works were sublime concertos, whereas Lagaan is best thought of as grand opera.

I hope Lagaan gets a broader international viewership, because I think that as a finely-made, well-directed, wonderfully-acted film, it deserves to. But I think it helps to have some idea of some of the things I mentioned in this review, which is more a set of observations than a review per se: I reviewed it earlier when I saw it for the first time (I've now seen it three times, and loved it each time). Go watch it, especially if it gets that post-Oscar re-release!

Lagaan is one of the best-made large-scale films (by which I mean I am not comparing it with the films of masters like Ray, Ghatak, Bergman or Kieslowski, whose films to my mind are made on a more intimate scale than films like Lagaan, which means that the parameters of evaluation are different) I have seen, and is certainly among the best five films ever to have come out of India's commercial film industry. It combines some of the best song-and-dance sequences in Hindi cinema's history with an interesting premise for a plot, excellent, restrained yet powerful performances all round, beautiful cinematography/camerawork, and manages to elicit from the audience a level of emotional involvement that most films can only dream of. It looks consistently beautiful, without ever being untrue to its setting: this is not the beauty of bright primary colours so favoured by the average Hindi film director these days, but rather the more muted earth tones, combined with the earthy reds and oranges of the women's clothes, of its village setting. It really does mark a return to the sort of honest, heartfelt, genuine films that the Bombay was known for in the 1950s and 1960s, though technically this is an infinitely more assured piece of work than those films. For once, the dialogue never hits a false note – admittedly, the use of Avadhi is a bit erratic, but my guess is that was a compromise between comprehensibility and authenticity, and it certainly does not jar. The integration of the British actors and the bits that are in English is seamless; the film is often funny without ever descending into farce of slapstick; even Rachel Shelley's typically ‘Bollywood' declaration of love, complete with pillared room and flying tresses/dresses, works! Speaking of Shelley, her role is perhaps my one quibble – it would have been nice to see her romantic involvement with Aamir's character be allowed to develop a bit more. Perhaps the only other critical comment I'm willing to make is that the plot sort of ran out of steam for the last bit – the cricket match was very entertaining, but given that there was no way the outcome was going to be any different from what it was (this does purport to be a feel-good film, after all!), I think it went on for a tad too long. But these are minor points; nothing's ever perfect, and neither is Lagaan – but it comes pretty damn close to being a perfect realisation of what it set out to be. Well worth a (couple of?) watch(es), and I've no doubt this will come to be regarded as a classic. Beautifully made, stunningly shot, perfectly acted, exhilarating, strong, earthy cinema that made me feel good for a while after I saw it!

Rib-tickling, side-splitting .. but also cynical, intelligent, and very, very dark. Comedy as it should be and so very rarely is. Corrupt politicians in cahoots with thieving contractors, their scheming rivals and their inept secretaries ... add two bumbling, idealistic, naive young photographers in the 'right' place at the 'right' time ..... throw 'em all together and all hell breaks loose, and boy is it hilarious!! I've seen this several times and never failed to collapse in helpless fits of laughter. Wonder why they don't make them like this anymore, and wish they did!

I went to see Fire with fairly high expectations, given the (unnecessary) fuss that had been kicked up in India over its portrayal of lesbian relationships in a 'traditional' Indian setting (on which more later). I was extremely disappointed, and frankly, for reasons I'm about to explain, although I fully support Deepa Mehta's right to make films on any topic she chooses, I think it would help to support her against the ranting of the Hidutvavadis if her film wasn't so bloody awful. As things stand, I see it hard to see how we'd be worse off if she didn't make films, or write scripts, or do anything at all in the public realm.

Incidentally, for the information of those who think, from the comments on this site, that lesbianism hasn't been tackled in India before this, please read Ismat Chugtai's classic story, Lihaaf (The Quilt) which talked about a lesbian relationship almost 60-70 years ago. And this was a Muslim woman writing. SO what's all the fuss about?

Several things struck me when I saw the film. First, why make it in English? The choice of the language in the setting of a Punjabi business family in Lajpat Nagar is obviously going to jar: and it does. You could just about get away with making an Indian film in English if the characters are upper-crust Calcuttans, as they were in Aparna Sen's classic '36 Chowringhee Lane'. Here, it just doesn't ring true. And a film that consistently seems false is not likely to work.

Then there's the dialogue: cliched to the point that it makes you wince. Repeatedly. The relationship between Radha and S(N)ita is hardly fleshed out. The men are all cardboard cutouts. The women wear Banarasi saris while they cook in the kitchen of their family takeaway restaurant. Also, the family seems to have no social life at all - hard to believe if they live in a gregarious, my-home-is-your-home kinda place like LPN. Perhaps these are quibbles, but my problem is: if Deepa chooses to locate her film in a definite time and place, as she does, then she should have tried to make her film evoke it. It didn't. The only thing that was authentic was the inside of the house: but that probably WAS real. The acting was alright - but then Shabana will always do a good job. Pity the vehicle was so awful.

The truth, I'm afraid, is that Deepa Mehta , for all her desire to show the 'real India' to the world, is too ambitious. There is no such thing as THE real India, and if there is, Deepa Mehta doesn't have a clue about it. She's pretty obviously playing to a Western gallery: oh look, lesbianism in a 'traditonal society' ! Everything, from the costumes to the choice of theme, is tailored to evoke Western condecension and pander to stereotypes about a stifling, ritual- and tradition-obsessed - but 'colourful' and 'exotic' - society . There are issues here that need to be tackled by filmmakers, and indeed they have been: remember Ray's 'Devi'? That also presented an aspect of Indian society that made one uncomfortable, but it had an honesty and authenticity that made it real, believable, and touching. Great cinema like Ray's transcends barriers of nationality or ethnicity and speaks directly of what concerns us as people, while not needing to resort to gimmicks. Mehta is all gimmick, no substance, and little meaning. And though I frankly do not care, she should have known that naming her characters Radha and Sita would be asking for trouble: but perhaps that's what she wanted? Apart from the unlikeliness of two women in the same family just happening to have those two names, out of a million. And when was the last time you heard of someone who called their daughter Sita?

Finally, a few quibbles about the typical comments on this site. A film in 'modern' New Delhi - err - so what else then, ancient New Delhi? Medieval New Delhi? The damn city has only been around for some 80 years! For God's sake, at least have some idea of what you're writing about!!

Perhaps Deepa Mehta should make films about a society she understands, instead of trying to decipher one she doesn't? Stunning visuals (again, in colours chosen to exoticise India, since the real Lajpat Nagar clearly wasn't 'vibrant' enough?) do not a good - or even a passable- film make. Someone - Stalin? - said - 'Everybody has the right to be stupid. Some people abuse the privilege. ' Enough said?

The story of Waqt is pretty standard: an earthquake separates the members of a wealthy family with three sons, who are brought up as a result in separate and quite different circumstances. Eventually, of course, the family is reunited, but not before variuous twists and turns culminating in the three brothers appearing in court in connection with the trial for murder of one brother, with the other brothers being the defence counsel and a witness for the prosecution, respectively. Pretty standard stuff - but stylishly presented and with strong performances,particularly by Sadhan as the love interest of one of the brothers, and Sunil Dutt as the lawyer brother. Nice stuff, great music, lavish sets, and a pretty cool courtroom denouement!