• A Greatest Hits Mixtape Of A Fading Superstar…Khan goes from age 8 to 70 in an awkward, episodic narrative that tips its hat to his transformation from Prem to Chulbul to Tiger

  • India’s Most Wanted is a tragic waste of its source material. A real-life chase demanded the bare-knuckled Paul Greengrass, Kathryn Bigelow or Delhi Crime treatment. The feasibility of the story itself is the film. But the language it uses – that of Kabir Khan and Neeraj Pandey spy/action dramas – is more suited to the fetishization of a make-believe genre. Almost as if the director doesn’t trust us to understand that capturing terrorists is not a mundane 9-to-5 job. This, however, does sort of explain the coming-of-age soundtrack. Forget finding the bad guys; I hope they found themselves.

  • A Crude Social Comedy With A Man Problem …The film starring Ajay Devgn and Tabu as a divorced couple isn’t a very thoughtful ‘social comedy’

  • SOTY2 can be described as a parody of Main Hoon Na, which itself was a parody of every desi college-campus movie ever made; a parody of a parody is called…reality

  • The Film Is Consumed By Its Commitment To Beauty And Boredom…The film decorates, pauses, gasps, whispers, sighs, romanticizes and ultimately chokes on its own derived sense of (slam) poetry

  • A Second-Hand History Lesson In Third-Rate Politics…

  • A Decent Kashmir Premise Undone By Its Desire To Be Heard…No Fathers In Kashmir is scripted smartly but the execution is a bit muddled, almost as if the director decides to compromise his awareness in favour of on-the-nose activist filmmaking

  • RAW never really examines its main character’s obvious identity crisis and his conflict of faith – partly due to the actor’s limited abilities, but mostly due to the mood of our times

  • For a director whose breakthrough film centered on a woman out for revenge under the ruse of impending motherhood, Badla remains forcibly consistent to this oeuvre of maternal rage. Only, it focuses on the other side of the kahaani, which is why you can see the strings and the puppeteers running the show. Making something – or someone, in this case – look better than it is maybe an art, but it is clearly a dying one.

  • I dozed off during one of the “hysterical” situations involving a temple and a beard (don’t ask), and woke up only to realize that everyone in the frame was still…speaking. Monsieur Aaryan was quiet, bruised, stunned, hands on head, oblivious to the noisy characters around him. At this point he looked like the existential protagonist of a social message drama about an abusive marriage between film critics and their rants about cash-grabbing comedies. That would explain the beard. And the tattered clothes.

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