Friday 17 October 2014

Review : Pardeep Sarkar's "Mardaani" is a sly masquerade.


Pradeep Sarkar seems to have lost his way after his charmingly subtle debut.

Stumbling from genre to genre, churning out bucketfuls of banality, it's hard to believe that the once-budding filmmaker who showed such competence, such sophistication with Parineeta would call the shots for a staggeringly inept rip-off that gleans its ideas from the enjoyable Hollywood twaddle, Taken

Except that, when hell freezes over, Mardaani isn't enjoyable. Twaddle, though, it certainly is.

Leastways, Taken didn't pretend to be what it definitely wasn't, and proudly stuck to being a crackpot cash-grab which made the film easy to assimilate. Mardaani proceeds to be a crafty charade without an ounce of tangible sentiment infusing its audacious plot. There's no avidity to neatly etch its mundane characters or carve out a rational plot, but a desperate hunger to plunge straight into its gritty subject matter. 

While the film is insatiably enthusiastic to present itself as a stringent voice on sex-trafficking, it hardly makes any noteworthy attempt to tackle it in a pragmatic, perceptive way, like any levelheaded person would. Making the audiences cringe violently at the exploitative, brusque and horrific depiction of the treatment the girls sold into prostitution are subjected to would patently fetch the right kind of response, plausibly the one that is pined for, but it comes of as a rather manipulative attempt to hide one's own ineptitude.


The intentions, though greatly admirable, aren't backed by a pragmatic script, but by a hollow, laughably quixotic one. A tiny hint of authenticity would have been quite helpful in reminding me I was watching a film that was - probably - trying valiantly to be aberrant, but it was lacking. And how sad is that, in a film dealing with a grave subject that demands eyeballs promptly, they just couldn't resist skipping the materialistic elements that show up uninvited in the second-half.

As far as my knowledge goes, I'm not aware of a cop who would brashly pursue a potential suspect without necessary reinforcements. Or a trivial lowlife who would take on a senior cop with such impudence. Or the one-person squad who, like a sunny cliche it is, singlehandedly exterminates an entire operation in a tick in the fantastical denouement. What I am aware of is that I am watching a film that isn't taking my comprehension of the subject as earnestly as I wish it would. Which flusters me.

Without the crisp performances from its largely able cast, Mardaani would have slumped immutably. What it is, is a wily commercial venture masquerading as a thoughtful, diligent scrutiny of a subject seldom explored in the film industry. It screamed for a pinch of the ace perceptiveness of Mira Nair's magically moody Salaam Bombay!. And there simply wasn't any.

The question we ought to be asking ourselves is : does a well-intentioned film merit the tag of being an accomplished film? Are we too liberal with that tag?

For me, Mardaani was nothing more than a splendid, preposterous facade.

Wednesday 15 October 2014

Handpicks : The Ten Greatest Gangster Films Of The New Century.


I devour gangster films with the kind of relish people usually reserve for euphonious music. Ergo this list.

The following are the the finest gangster films of the new century I have seen, handpicked with deliberation and prudence. I don't believe I may have missed out on any film, and a film not on this list has been consciously excluded.

So, in the alphabetical order for the umpteenth time :


1.  A Bittersweet Life (2005; South Korea)

There's something strangely alluring about precipitous bloodshed.

As Kim Ji-woon admirably demonstrates in his explosively stylish fusion of machoism, morality and mania, grisly violence can only give rise to grislier violence. And acts of pugnacity can make a varmint out of even the loyalists.

A Bittersweet Life follows a frustratingly predictable pattern narratively and thematically, but remains an exhilarating joyride purely because of the abstruse characters that it serves with a colossal serving of the old repellent ultra-violence. What we get here are a bunch of diabolical fruitcakes intent on causing mayhem and ridding the world of each other, but in the stray moments, we find that the film is actually about the thorny relationship between a master and his flinty servant, both of them a part of the Korean mob. About how, even when brutishness seems inevitable, an act of magnanimity can trigger complications beyond one's realm of understanding.

And the complications are delightfully dark.

It's a profound, cheekily coolheaded and supremely well-orchestrated little gangland drama that demands to be seen for the characters that it carves. Fish around for a plot, however, and you'll end up with a mouthful of cliches.




2.  A Prophet (2009; France)

Oh, my! What a beautifully bestial film this is!

I have often spoken of my outmost admiration for Jacques Audiard's hypnotic masterpiece, which is unyielding in its depiction of impetuous violence in prison, and how a youth does his growing up by dealing with guilty hallucinations. And at its crux, A Prophet is about a murder so terribly brutal and unsettling that it changes the course of the film, and leaves us gasping in horror. In a calculated move of creative acumen, Audiard skillfully hinders his protagonist from turning into a hero. And what he gives us instead is a dissolving and often poignant nightmare, a brilliant one that petrifies and gnaws. That propels A Prophet into the league of modern masterworks in film.

Perhaps the greatest of all crime films of its generation, A Prophet is as flawless as a film can possibly get.




3.  Animal Kingdom (2010; Australia)

Who knew the usually diffident Jackie Weaver would slide into her role of a fickle mafia godmother with such unnerving menace?

David Michod did. And the socko hunch paid off, lucky us. The appropriately titled and devilishly slick Animal Kingdom hardly looks like a directorial debut of someone, a crime film of such prodigious power and artistic maturity that we hang on for every fiendish twist it pitches, spellbound and speechless. The reliable Ben Mendelsohn shines through and through in his role as the sinister older brother of a crime family, providing the film its much-exploited atmosphere of dread and dreariness, and the balance in terms of performances. But it is Weaver, the wondrous Weaver, who takes the cake here. She's absolutely invigorating.

If you haven't seen many Aussie crime films, Animal Kingdom would be a fine one to get cracking.




4.  City Of God (2002; Brazil)

Now, ain't this a visual treat to behold?

Fernando Meirelles' City Of God is breathtaking in its scope, flawless in its storytelling and spunky in its style, a rip-roaring gangster film that is one-off for reasons more than one. Fusing arresting images of the scuzzy favelas of the City Of God and ebullient details, Meirelles employs a visual style like no other film in recent memory to chronicle a story of a young man's adolescence in a violence-plagued city where mob wars are commonplace. And its flaws are so scant that I can count them off my fingers and still have some to spare. If not for anything else, City Of God warrants a peek for the consummate storytelling gifts of Fernando Meirelles. However, let it be known that it is a tad difficult to watch at times. If you cringe at the harrowing sight of children toting guns or getting shot, it will more disgust than rivet you.

Expertly directed, bracingly edited and colorfully shot, City Of God is genre-redefining.




5.  Eastern Promises (2007; UK/Canada/US)

Trust David Cronenberg to make a crime film on the Russian mob, and Eastern Promises is exactly the kind of film I envisaged him cranking out.

After his compelling A History Of Violence, Cronenberg, one of the finest filmmakers of his generation who remains persistently snubbed for reasons uncertain, took a deeply distressing story of rape, violence and sin in London's Russian mob and turned into a tasteful, alarming and elaborate film that offered intelligent fodder for the mind and thrills for the starved senses. It is a film that strings together a few sequences of crackerjack filmmaking -- most notably the nude brawl in the Turkish baths, which is the kind of stuff that turns films into indelible memories -- and spine-tingling brusqueness in its portrayal of the waywardness of a person devoted to violence. And the stifled horrors it illustrates so brashly had me cowering.

Eastern Promises is nauseatingly violent, at times to a fault, but has an incisive story to tell and does it without much foofaraw.




6.  Gomorrah (2008; Italy)

If your impression of the Italian Mafia stems from the swanky aesthetics of The Godfather or The Sopranos, here is a brute of a crime film to get you au courant with the changing times.

Set in a far-flung world of grubby alleys and sooty tenements in modern-day Naples where a crime syndicate operates with his claws digging, worming their way into the thwarted existence of its helpless residents, Gomorrah doesn't cut you some slack. It's an absolute doozy. Intermeshing five stories of how organized crime affects the uninvolved, it's a concise, controlled explosion of sheer filmmaking power. It is styled like a stark documentary, nosing about for grim realities to bludgeon us with, acted with the kind of naturalism you don't usually associate with opulent mob movies, thereby flinging you headfirst into this abject world of power, corruption and greed. That's what makes Gomorrah a bleak affair; you live the characters.

To all the romanticized mob movies we were forced fed in the past forty years, Gomorrah is a fortifying contradiction.




7.  Infernal Affairs (2002; Hong Kong)/ The Departed (2006; US)

Two, because I can't make up my mind which one is better than the other. So, two.

While Infernal Affairs is a heavily-stylized cop-and-con thriller pretending to be no different than what it is, The Departed feeds off on its ever-developing emotional core. Both films are masterfully directed, loyally carrying an irrepressible flavor of their respective cultures, peppering the plot with wildfire, urgent dialogue and arbitrary bouts of bloodbath. While Infernal Affairs lacks the earnestness that makes The Departed a far more soul-stirring film in comparison, it cashes in on being coldly detached and very nearly manages to shift the focus on the slightly cockamamie plot instead. Directors Andrew Lau and Alan Mak only moderately succeed; Infernal Affairs works rather well as a character study albeit a half-baked one. But it is a hell of a punchy film, the kind you want to let you sweep you off your feet willingly and relish the coddling.

On the other hand, The Departed is an assured remake, conscious of the job at hand and working its way slowly to knock it out of the ballpark. The flamboyance of manner makes a rather delightful appendage, I must say. Working with minmal gore and relying heavily on oppressive tension, Martin Scorsese creates a palpable set of conflicted characters that are sculpted with great attention, and their woolly relationships with each other deftly add sprinkles of mystique to them. However, in terms of unmitigated audacity, it slumps vulnerably before Infernal Affairs.

While one's more of a plaintive drama, the other one's a turbulent thriller. Pick your fix.





8.  Outrage (2010; Japan)

Outrage can be described best as prolonged carnage.

But you have got to hand it to Takeshi Kitano, the orchestrator of this bang-bang, who skillfully hinders the film from turning into a pantomime. The multi-hatted auteur creates a baroque plot that brags of a thousand promises, and doesn't let it die down till he's done. Outrage may not be a levelheaded yakuza film, but it is a thoroughly entertaining fare that gloats of the most polished gore since the two volumes of Kill Bill. It is one of those crime films where the director would rather wipe out his characters in the most inventive way possible than be bothered about where the plot is headed. Though the tall body count in this film has some wild, plausible logic behind it, I'm just not sure if it was requisite. However, when a hotshot filmmaker is flying off the handle, it is best to stand back and watch him do his trade.


Outrage is a triumph of bravura over brains. For once, I readily basked in something like that.




9.  Sexy Beast (2000; UK/Spain)

In my fantasies, I often wonder what Gandhi would have made of his reel version's performance in this brawny bop of a film.

Because, like countless other film-lovers, I usually associate Ben Kingsley with his portrayal of Gandhi in Richard Attenborough's magnificent biopic at the mention of his name. Or the bumbling Jewish accountant he played so adeptly in Steven Spielberg's magnum opus Schindler's List. But Ben Kingsley as a presumably deranged, diabolical lowlife? That's an unimaginable first. But as Don Logan, the stuck-up, perpetually mumbling and dangerously volatile gangster, he not only delivers one of the finest pieces of acting I have seen in modern cinema, but also a masterclass in acting. The guy zaps the whole cast with his towering persona and makes it look like a cinch.

But the film's ravishing visual style is no less stupendous. Debutant Jonathan Glazer narrates as much with the imagery as the characters do with their garrulous lines. The characters aren't the affable sort, of course, which makes this crafty, subtle ride all the more intriguing. It's a slick and satisfying journey into their chaotic consciences that will give you gooseflesh.

Sexy Beast will come at you with the impact of a seething knockout punch. Best greet it.




10.  Viva Riva! (2010; the Congo)

My jaunt in African cinema began with a cabochon.

The only Congolese and African film I have seen, Djo Tunda Wa Munga's Viva Riva! is evidence of the kind of artistic talent they nurture in that part of the world. It is a film at par with any great crime films made with a bulkier budget and with far superior resources. It is a film that is noirish in its approach, working with a plot dunked in atmosphere and panache, and with an unmistakably authentic African setting. It steadily evolves into a brutal, brutal film, briskly paced and enjoyable to boot. To get a notion of how enjoyable this film is, the exclamation mark in its title is a gracious sample. However, those who despise acts of violence and sleaze would prefer to keep away from this maelstrom.

Viva Riva! opened a door into a world of cinema that I was oblivious to. And I'm stoked it did.




(Not For Reproduction)


Sunday 5 October 2014

Review : Vishal Bharadwaj's "Haider" is positively gobsmacking but only in parts.


Vishal Bharadwaj's Haider is one of the best Hindi films of the year, but it's also the weakest installment in his Shakespeare trilogy.

And it has further dethroned Feroz Abbas Khan's marvelously dark Dekh Tamasha Dekh as the ballsiest film of the year in spectacular fashion. No kidding, after two shockingly drab attempts at the outré, Bharadwaj returns to explore the ganglands and puts the Bard's eternal Hamlet at the nub of the Kashmir insurgency. 

Job well done. When it gets going, Haider is gobsmacking stuff. 

If there is one guy in the industry who knows how to deftly adapt a Shakespearean work without annihilating its brio, it is Bharadwaj, the brilliant Bard buff. Having already adapted two in the past with his moody and stunningly effective Maqbool and the cutting-edge revelation that Omkara was, it was a given that Hamlet, perhaps the Bard's most intricate oeuvre, would be next on the list. And what surprises me every single time is how exhaustively, intimately he understands the material. 

Haider explores the bowels of madness and depravity, but does so with a shimmering eye for sheer visual tantalization. It's a ravishing film, surging with spurts of dark comedy, brutal violence, yawning periods of inspired restlessness and plucky undertones. Like most of Bharadwaj's works, it is a film strictly for adults, but only for those who seek with a radical, inured mind. It begs oodles of patience from its audience, unwinds as lethargically as a funeral but remains the auteur's most assured work yet. 

In ways more than one, Haider is practically flawless, and yet the niggling flaws are vexingly discernible. 

The question is, could we forgive its flaws for its métiers?


I couldn't. There were stretches when I found myself getting too twitchy, but the utter virtuosity in a handful of sequences hinders the screenplay from falling apart, and it's a rather fragilely constructed one, if I may say so. And this particular discovery startled me; scripts are usually his forte. But here, Bharadwaj doesn't employ a taut narrative for his Hamlet, but opts for an ambling one. Many characters throng his steadily inconsistent screenplay, but hardly serve any purpose to the action. 

But what Haider succeeds in creating is a character study, a particularly edifying one. Richly atmospheric and detailed right down to the minutest detail, the characters, the dented souls that chew on the truth and endlessly brood over the atrocities that have glued themselves to their lives, give the film its soul. And what characters! Layers of emotion, lies and tragedy beneath the doleful, dead eyes, trying to comprehend the happenings in their land but failing to do so. And an almost incestuous relationship between a mother and her son; a dour touch, admittedly, but what a dramatic one and done so with a flourish! 

That's precisely what makes Haider a smashing success -- it blends a complex work of literature and the history of a forlorn state effortlessly.

But it's no masterwork, not even close to being one. It's not Bharadwaj's best. It's also not one of the finest political films we have made. We have made better. He has made better. 

But what it has is chutzpah -- a word that is frequently mentioned in the film and essentially means 'shameless audacity' -- and it's also one that describes it perfectly. Haider is a great act of chutzpah.