Bangistan stands on ground zero. In T.S. Eliot’s famous words, the film begins and ends ‘not with a bang, but with a whimper’.

A quiet little gem. Many films, mainstream and not so mainstream touch upon issues, but seldom do we see a film that is so tender and yet so overpowering. While Baahubali and Bajrangi Bhaijaan continue to be a big lure and with good reason, do make time for this quiet little gem. You won’t regret it.

ABCD 2 does not, even for a moment, pretend to be anything else but a dance movie. Which means if you go looking for a coherent plot line and an insightful portrayal of characters, you will be let down. Yes, it can get better, but ABCD 2 is definitely one step in the right direction.

The story doesn’t delve into the seriousness of the issue of marital discord. There are subplots and then some. A barrage of coincidences follow, that don’t seem to care much for logic or details. It’s the performances and the writing that makes it all palatable.

The visual grandeur and scale aside, Bombay Velvet fails to live up to its ambition. Don’t even try to search for sharp dialogues and Kashyap’s trademark wicked humour. That’s probably reserved for his indie ventures only.

When a film that has a disabled character at its centre, calls itself Margarita With A Straw (and not Chhoone Chali Aasman, as suggested by Taare Zameen Pe’s Aamir Khan), you know nothing regular is coming your way. This cocktail is a must-try. And you might just ask for a repeat.

There are two kinds of audiences for this film — those who know Byomkesh and those who don’t. Dibakar has a revelation for both. That’s one case neatly solved.

The story has pace but falters when it comes to substance. The background score is a plus and perhaps one of the few things that add some edge to the limping narrative. With better performances and more nuanced writing, this would have been a very different film. Also, the directors needed to have a tighter grip on the many stories they are trying to tell in two hours.

As the film progresses the lines between the perpetrator and victim begin to fade. Sriram Raghavan turns the genre of revenge on its head. It’s as thrilling as it is introspective. There’s no good, bad or ugly. You see how ugly good can get, how bad can have some good too. No sides taken. Go figure.

It’s a picture of the excruciating pain behind the music, bleeding fingers and bleeding hearts. These 107 minutes are absolutely allergic to clichés. Whiplash leaves you overwhelmed and exhausted, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself hooting for an encore.