If anything, Bhavesh Joshi proves right that maxim, unsaid but true: That Fixed Ideology, Self-righteousness and Superheroism run parallel to each other.

What we have here, I guess, is a director who understands how people fight, but has not a clue about how they make love.

Oddly enough, everything Raazi cannot explain or put a finger on, it glosses over in the name of patriotism or watan-love; glorifying thereby the very sentiment it had set out to mock.

This is the unique tragedy of the film: it becomes less of a counterpoint to pseudo-patriotism and more of a companion piece.

A sense of injustice has been flaring in Mehta too since the time his face was blackened by Hindu fundamentalists. The face behind the black paint has since then, been his main subject.

In Omerta, he tries to close in on those who smear the paint, and with that change in focus, he achieves something he hadn’t achieved yet.

Something indescribable; something that terrorists and artists both die trying for: Salvation.

Sudhir Mishra is perhaps telling us that we are all politicians waiting for our chance at the podium and that it takes a real silly to see the absurdity of it all.

There’s something very pompous about the basic pitch of this movie that slowly chews away at its core..

3 Storeys is a movie of endless surprises: There’s one murder, one giant regret re-lived and regurgitated, and one devastating catastrophe that comes out of nowhere. But none of these high-points has any room for discharge.

The dead man and the wailing lovers, all seem to be holding it back for the fear that the neighbours may hear them.

The best horror movies are ones that make you laugh as you scream — laughing presumably at your own screaming — but Pari doesn’t operate on that level.

A movie like PadMan, progressive in its pitch but with nothing else to sustain it, settles the issue of our liberals taking their good taste too seriously.

For this is not truly a liberal world if we keep searching for alternatives to regressive ideas in an R Balki film.

My worry is that many who are not fond of Kashyap’s usual complex sensibility would like this latest move: They’ll applaud the fact that he’s going for the tear glands with brass knuckles on.

The tragedy of Mukkabaaz is not that it aims low; the tragedy is that it aims low and hits.