• Most of it works. Some of it doesn’t. While being crowd-friendly, the film lapses into simplicities, such as that of seeing only virtue in the poor, while the rich usually comprise pretentious a-holes.

  • One just begins to feel indifferent towards it beyond a point. Which isn’t a good thing, I know. But then, if “it is what it is” kinda casual indifference follows plain dejection, and natural helplessness, then so be it.
    I liked this film’s end though. You might too. If you can remain fresh and alert enough until then, that is.

  • What Baahubali does is show the future of Indian big-screen cinema, if it has to survive the onslaught of Hollywood, or move beyond Rajini, Khans, Kapoor, and Kumar, to begin with. The manager in my theatre says he plans to start Saturday shows, 6.30 am onwards. I can’t think of a better way to start your day. The excitement is totally worth it.

  • Noor’s life that way is meant to mirror the urbane, liberal, progressive, metropolitan upper middle-class. As for her work, as I said, there are several colleagues in my newsroom who have stories like hers, if not better, and might actually want to make this film. This sense of recognition can be rankling. Throughout, you can’t help but wonder how much better this movie could’ve been. But then, like journalism, this film should be seen for what it is. And hey it isn’t bad at all.

  • Srijit Mukherji’s Bangla period film ‘Rajkahini’ (2015), that this one is the exact replica of, was slightly refreshing, mainly because it was set during 1947 Partition, yes, but on the eastern front, where East Pakistan was being separated from West Bengal, Assam. Normally, Partition narratives get placed in the North, mainly Punjab. As is this adaptation, by the way. Except you don’t hear as much Punjabi here.

  • Bose made his directorial debut with a reasonably fine, ‘Everybody Says I’m Fine’ (2001), a seriously upper-class South Bombay English movie with a touch of magic realism. This one could have well been in Telugu. It may be diametrically opposite to his debut. But delivered with much subtly, empathy, and remarkable restraint. Or as they say, on the Internet, delivered #LikeABose!

  • Pandey has written this prequel, split into two totally separate films. And to be fair when the movie does cut to the chase eventually, to chase down the villain, some of the thrills do kick in. Sadly you’ve polished off your popcorn tub already, taking in the corniness until that point, while your head spins in circles in this pointless spin-off, listening to the zany ‘Zubi zubi zubi’ number from Mithun’s ‘Dance Dance’ (1987), and so much else.

  • That ‘Trapped’ manages to grippingly hold your attention with such an underwhelming setting is an achievement in itself. That it could invade your senses makes it worth every minute, without any break, in the theatre.

  • Both the Shashank Khaitan movie and Varun Dhawan’s character have very few redeeming features. This seems like a film from the ’90s. In the ’90s, of course, one could get away with all kinds of stuff. Maybe, even now you can after all the lead actors look so effortless and easygoing on screen

  • This thoroughly absorbing film delves deeper to give this child a story, a name, and a face. This India portion, at least in the version I watched, has been shot in Hindi. Which is a huge relief, if you were expecting basic modicum of respect for authenticity in a film based on a true-life account — Saroo Brierley’s non-fiction novel A Long Way Home — about a 5-year-old who accidentally gets separated from his mother, a quarry worker (Priyanka Bose; outstanding!), and his brother, to find himself eventually adopted by white parents in Australia.

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