Reviews

This film reminds me of many British films showing the seamy side of life, with insecurities, poverty and being disadvantaged all leading to some inevitable tragedy. Most actors are solid here, except for a miscast Marina Berti. The story, however, is with a bit of gaping holes that the screenplay does nothing to cover up. All that said, there's a tinge of horror to the film just because of the camerawork and the shooting locales and sets. That the horror of a crime engendered because of poverty can weigh so heavy on the viewer is a feat achieved by only a very few director-cameraperson combos.

When even an inquisitive neigbour is well cast and does her role well in a scene lasting hardly 2 minutes, a film is usually excellent. The plot, while not extremely strong, is decent, but the cinematography (which is what a noir often relies on) and cast are on the top of their game, especially all the side characters, such as Lee J. Cobb playing the inspector, Thomas Gomez playing the oily businessman, or an incredibly sexy Ellen Drew playing a potential femme fatale. The plot may not be its strongest point, but the depth of the characters is: there is Charlie, bringing in the element of jealousy and possible romantic involvement with the film's hero, there is the insecure but rich Gomez, there is the bonding between two people who pretend to be "tough as nails" but emotionally need security in the film's protagonist couple, and there's the Javert-like inspector, doggedly in pursuit of the hero, who, Valjean-like, starts smelling the nemesis.

India doesn't make many films which talk about someone gay: but this is certainly not the film that comes out on top among them. That credit, out of the films that I've watched, goes to "My Brother Nikhil", itself a middling film. However, Bajpai, the hero of the film, insists, that you people are stuck on labels: so let's not treat the film as gay-themed. The problem is that India makes many fine films otherwise: and then this film suffers a lot by comparison. So, let's leave comparison aside and take the film in itself ...

This film suffers from what I name as the "Parzania" syndrome, named after a much more terrible film, which was ostensibly about a socio- historical issue but which still got nice word of mouth from critics: just because they didn't want to say anything bad about a film that was seen as progressive. Similarly, "Aligarh", though not terrible, is a very middling film, especially considering that its director, Hansal Mehta, makes much finer films than this one. But because it is about a topic not many are comfortable with, it still wins plaudits: but art should not be about propaganda, it should be about art. And as a work of art, this film fails miserably.

Why does it fail? While Bajpai gives a sufficiently good performance (can he even act badly ever?), the otherwise reliable and Mehta's favorite Rajkummar Rao is a complete misfit for the role and his mind doesn't seem to be in the film. To make things worse, the constant close-ups, especially of Bajpai's character, doesn't let the story grip the viewer: the film editing is also quite childish, with cameras panning suddenly to show the "Marathi department" written in Urdu script, or to show some Muslim caps bobbing up and down a bit ... Also, the city of Aligarh itself is not at all seeping into the film: why to call the city that then? And that the story is happening in a conservative city like Aligarh is important to make the viewer feel! Yes, you didn't or couldn't shoot in Aligarh, but if you did shoot in Bareilly, why am I not feeling Uttar Pradesh, at least? Where is the famous railway gate of Aligarh, people waiting there ... and even if things are better working now there, you could still add some. Be still, remember David Lean. Focusing unnecessarily on Bajpai's face while he listens to old Hindi songs doesn't give that stillness; it only makes you pretend to be artsy so those critics who don't feel films will applaud you. But what is the point of making films if you cannot make your viewer feel your story? The point of telling a story is its listener, its audience, not the critic.

I had expected much more from a Manoj Bajpai film directed by Hansal Mehta. But, instead, all I got was pretensions: including two gay men kissing each other. What's the point of those repeated flashbacks? If you don't have enough plot, just set the atmosphere: that in itself is a rewarding experience that cinema can give.

"The Fencer" is a typical sports and underdog film: which make you root for the underdog. It's slightly different from many others in that there is some history for solid context: however, that also has been done so far, and the director does not experiment much with the pace of the film. Some of the landscapes are beautiful, and in my opinion they afforded the director to be much slower and absorbed in the atmosphere, like the German film "Barbara" did, but that does not happen. However, the film is a lovely watch and touches your heart because of the fine cast: a special mention should be made here for the boy (Joonas Koff) playing Jaan, who has given the most impressive performance of the film.

For anyone who has read the classic novel The Count of Monte Cristo, this film is an example of how your most beautiful memories and dreams can be transformed into some mindless rubbish: while Hindi cinema specializes in such terrible adaptations, this one is one of the worst even among them. The film has no moments of stillness: everyone and everything breezes through, and while Dharmendra plays Edmond Dantes, Ramesh Deo is completely miscast as Danglars. Dantes' father is here replaced by Dharmendra's mother: more tear-inducing for an Indian context, though tears are not easy to sprout, anyway.

The film has one famous song: maybe its only saving grace. There is too much noise, and the plot adaptation is set in a bank, not a ship. So the romance of the sea - Mercedes waiting by the sea and Dantes' Herculean skill and woman's fickleness like the sea's and the miraculous arrival of the Pharaon - that romance is completely lopped off, already dooming the adaptation to the bins of poorly executed ambitions.

This is a short film which deals with racism in everyday life in China. A Chinese-African couple invite scrutiny from neighbours and misunderstandings from others: this leads to tensions in their relationship itself. The African guy, the foreigner, who has to bear the brunt of scorn, ridicule, sympathy, condescension, and rage, is thankfully a happy-go-lucky guy who yells in anger with as much promptness as singing the tune of a Chinese song. Explosive situations finally defuse in humour, and this educational film is all about not jumping to conclusions too soon. This is not a film to search for, but if you come across it, then it's an interesting watch. The traditional Chinese song played as the theme track is a lovely ditty, worth many hears.

"Madrasapattinam" suffers a lot by comparison with the original 2005 Hindi movie "Kisna: The Warrior Poet", and for someone who has watched the original Hindi movie, it is hard to not make comparisons. It is difficult to understand why does Amy love the hero and what does the hero find in her, except their physical attributes: in the case of Kisna, that's beautifully shown in the form of poetry, playful humour (which is completely absent here) and a true tension with not only the independence of India but the violence that is unleashed as a result. More importantly, it's a local landlord who's behind the girl there, not an English officer, which seems over the top here.

The Tamil movie also suffers from too much melodrama, too many long songs, too epic a scale for something not deserving that, and too stilted acting performances: while the Hindi movie also didn't have great acting except from Oberoi, here the cast is terrible uniformly. There are too many dialogues of us (Indians) vs. them (Britishers): the film forgets that nationalism is its background and romance ought to be to the fore. The only place where this movie scores over its original is its ending: I wouldn't reveal what it is, but it is much better than Kisna's contrived ending which had the audience in splits (and one of the main reasons that Kisna failed at the box office).

I wonder what this movie could have been with an actor like Dhanush and with fewer songs, less action and less nationalism: it would have been as good as Kisna, which was a very good film.

I had heard this film to be "better" than "Life Is Beautiful": I write the word better in scare quotes, because whether a film is better or worse is something subjective according to me, so it was very surprising to me the film marketed as a better humorous take on the Holocaust. I am afraid, in my opinion, not only it is a worse film, but it is also a film that reminded me of those mindless Hollywood musicals like "Carousel", etc. If you like that genre, you will like this film; if you fall for some exaggerated humour at Jew avarice, then you may fall for this one; if you like shapeless characters playing roles of bumpkins and dolts, then you may; otherwise, there is nothing here, least of all to even take its name in the same breath as the great Benigni film "Life Is Beautiful".

I would have forgiven the almost-universal bad acting and the long drawn-out scenes of this film had the film made me laugh, being supposed to be a comedy: however, the film failed to manage even a single laugh (!) during its whole course. And the same was the case with the audience packing the hall: around hundred people not even managing one single guffaw between them in this grindingly boring film. Avoid at all costs.

Basically more like a National Geographic video, "La clé des champs" is still a magical film, even with its minimal storyline. As expected and as needed, the photography is magical, and there are a couple of moments when the frogs, amphibians and insects elicit a laugh or two, especially the frogs. The story is that of the world of a tiny pond, tiny to many eyes but vast and peopled with innumerable characters to the eyes of a tiny boy, the pond that will tell him how no one's ever lonely. The ending of the film is beautiful, and it lends impact to the story even if threadbare it is. The ending brings to mind Dostoyevsky's and Giono's beliefs, of how a seed dropped may bear fruit and hence how dropping of a seed is important rather than thinking whether it will yield fruit or not. The pond and its world was abandoned by humanity, but was the richest treasure for a little boy.

The film is a modern-day, Scandinavian remake of that beautiful Leslie Caron-Maurice Chevalier film "Fanny." If you have seen "Fanny," then it might turn out to be more difficult to watch this film through. The cast fit in their roles well by their looks, but the jarring camera, a modern-day fad, is completely out of place in this film. More importantly, it allows the actors to non-act and yet complete a film. Key moments are lost and it seems you are watching a film synchronised on a different frequency of projection. I have no idea what the director could've been thinking of. India is again stereotyped, which is the usual story with the West. Granted that the poverty of Bombay exists, yet if you mention that, you need to also mention the liberty from the grind of materialism that India provides, even to the poor: especially when the protagonist of your story has decided to live all his life in India. Why? Simply ideals to help people in "another part of the world"? Overall, an avoidable film, and with a lot of formulaic flavour.