This is a meditative version of a war film, subtly weighing in on human loss and ruthlessness, even as it seldom wavers from checking off all the crackling elements of an espionage thriller. Honestly, I felt a little numb in the head as Sehmat feels the same for her soul. Whether or not you’re sehmat (agree) with Sehmat, I suggest you should totally be raazi (willing) to catch her scintillating, untold story for sure (Eh? Told ya: feeling numb in the head!).

The pacy pessimism of the picture effectively captures that of the street. Psychopaths on screen strongly mirror elected leaders, who’ve herded us together to where we are now, and where we’re headed. What’s in their head? This pic is one way to ponder over that. This cycle of democracy, violence continues unabated though. As it would. Play it again, sham!

This subtle, lyrical drama had me slightly teary-eyed on occasion — it could be because of an emotional trigger, or perhaps a memory it subconsciously draws one towards. This happens to me a lot at the movies by the way. Just so you know, and can probably treat that as a word of caution as well!

The film reveals all that’s wrong with modern India, where crores are cornered by a few (by hook or crook), while the middle class gets harangued over its meager incomes. The same rich politicos—patriarchs for places they’re from—are in fact secretly admired by locals for being champs at bending the system. They become the system. Not much has changed since. Only what the crooks look like may have. Raid does an honest job of showing it, almost as is. Hence the Raid Alert: Do catch this at a theatre near you.

…none of those efforts would have had the legs to travel as wide as this Akshay Kumar entertainer (with a lovely soundtrack), spreading a message that is impossible to ignore in a country where, as the film informs us, only 12 per cent women use sanitary napkins at all. The rest simply can’t stay free from likely infections, diseases. So you know where this film is coming from. I’m actually really glad to know where it’s going. Period.

Kashyap uses sport (even romance) as fine entry point to speak truth to power, along with the phoniness of ‘Bharat Mata Ki Jai’, where we apparently love our country but hate our countrymen. ‘Bahut hua sammaan’ as a hook is to Mukkabaaz what ‘Kehke loonga’ was to Gangs Of Wasseypur. And, really, kehke li hai, completely.

It remains a lot like Delhi Belly instead, the (Akshat Verma) writer of which makes his directorial debut here. He’s on the ball for sure. Is it as good as Delhi Belly? As a script? Possibly. As a film, I felt it lacks rhythm, with too much being force-fed to suit the timeline of one never-ending night in Bombay, even if that’s the genre. The end might make you go, “Eh?” But through it all, you’re more likely to go, “Hah!” So nah, I’m not complaining at all.

This film, where Vidya shows up as a vivacious, fat Virar aunty, embodying all the compassions and contradictions within a modern desi woman, is not an exception, by any means. It is really as good as it gets.

This is the sort of script that world champions of the desi rom-com genre would’ve taken to an altogether level. To be fair, director Tanuja Chandra (in fine form) makes it more than a ‘qarib qarib’ lovely, and surely worth your while in the theatre.

…don’t remember the last time I watched a full-on, no-nonsense, whodunit Hindi mainstream murder mystery in a theatre, with no way to talk about it but to urge you to see it, because that’s the only way we can discuss it any further. I think you should check it out, just so we can take this conversation offline, to start with!