Review: Meghna Gulzar's "Talvar" is one of the best Hindi films of the year.

There are several things Avirook Sen's chilling non-fiction book on the Noida double-murder case, Aarushi, did right, but three it did splendidly. One, it managed to commendably reconstruct the events that led to the murder and provide a shade of clarity in a case muddled with "facts," genuine and manipulated Two, it served as an expose of the Indian media's ballooning appetite for sensationalism. And three, it slowly but with a great surge of anger revealed how a botched-up investigation has led to a possible miscarriage of justice.

While flipping through the provocative, extensive and superbly written piece a month ago, I found myself getting more and more engrossed in the web of the details of the horrific crime. I visualized how the house looks, pieced together the minute bits of the puzzle and read into the records of the people on the case until I had a good idea of who, what and when. And the first thing I felt while watching Talvar was not shock nor disgust; it was a strong sense of deja vu.

For those who haven't read the book, Meghna Gulzar's Talvar will be riveting to the hilt; it's a cold docudrama of the crime and its aftermath that gets so much right factually (here, I need to point out that I'm assuming Sen's book is the most factually accurate account of the crime) that one can't help but marvel at the research put into it. But for those who have read the book, it is a satisfying trip to see on-screen that tiny film that played in our heads as we read the book.

Talvar digs its claws into the pulp of facts right away. Faithfully reconstructing the events that led to the discovery of the body of the murdered girl, we see the cops nonchalantly stroll into the crime scene, monotonously burning through their usual questions as the grieving parents come to grips with what has just happened. The following day, a second body is discovered. In between the simple formalities, a vital piece of evidence that could have led to the identity of the murderer is turned a blind eye to by a paan-chewing officer who couldn't care less. It is this terrifying illusion of living in a lawless land Talvar introduces us to that makes it so effective a thriller.

The story, or the many versions of it, unfolds in three different scenarios where three motives are discussed. Akira Kurosawa's classic Rashomon used this strategy to unforgettable effect to unveil how humans readily put the truth at stake to save their dignity. While Talvar is not as neutral as it would like to have been, one must hand it to Vishal Bharawaj who recognized the parallels between that and the real-life outcome of the Noida double murder case, using it to chew over every possible motive but weaving it into the script in such a way that it doesn't hamper the narrative flow. And like Rashomon, it deals with how the truth is willingly put in peril for something as petty as self-importance. Or maybe, as Talvar reminds us, it is not so petty.

Vishal Bharadwaj's tremendous script allows room for little outside of hard facts. It takes stabs at the media's tendency to sensationalize details before they are clarified, how evidence is extracted from a contaminated crime without anyone batting an eyelid and how truth is fashioned from it. But with Bharadwaj, we know it's not going to be as simple as I make it sound. A splash of dark humor, typically sharp dialogue and detailing that helps shape the characters and a nod -- always that nod! -- to his influences (loved the occasional references to Ijaazat; that's where he got the title from for Kaminey, too, I feel) makes it an unmistakable Bharadwaj vehicle.

There's no doubt that this, along with Shoojit Sircar's Piku, is the best-acted Hindi film of the year. A few unnecessary sequences aside, this is top-notch stuff that, unlike other Hindi films based on true events, does not lapse into preachiness and sentimentality. And somewhere near the end, a lethally funny scene dares us to laugh as the morbid details of the crime are discussed and dismissed. We do laugh because it amuses us how an investigation has been fouled up. But what are we laughing at, really? Two people have been incarcerated for life for a crime they might have not committed. We haven't heard about the three other suspects in a long time. It is hardly worth chuckling about.


(Not For Reproduction)

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.

Review: Abhishek Chaubey's "Dedh Ishqiya" is delightfully deft.

In an early scene in Dedh Ishqiya, a wily gangster asks his crony if he has ever heard of Batman. The Batman analogy in question is the reason why he spares his blood relative of getting killed, or worse, getting buried alive. He goes on to state phlegmatically that there is no Batman without the Joker. Yes, siree, we too are of a similar opinion, but his is more rational, see? And his smugness is something you ought to bask in.

And from that winsome opening sequence, the baroque plot that unfolds is something only a writer of Vishal Bharadwaj's stature can pull off. Chaubey's second crack at direction is endlessly surprising, explosively funny and, like those numerous poets who iterate their beautiful lines of Urdu poetry, is handled with careful poise. 

It's a canny world that Bharadwaj and Chaubey fashion, where people win people over words and a pleasantry goes a long way. The same kind of wonderfully atmospheric world thwarted my expectations in last year's snafu Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola. But not this time, not this time. Oh yeah, a fun fact I was dying to joke about : the C-word is being subtitled as snafu, believe that? And the film does do its bit to kill the lovely repartee by using those snobby subtitles. I couldn't believe the goddamn impudence of the coot who ordered them to be blemish the waggish banter. Anyway, those who have an ear for poetry should better see over them. You'll love to hear the mellifluous words, I can guarantee as much. After all, it's Bharadwaj, who is a magician with a pen in hand.

We had met our guides around the ominous badlands of North India, the dream team who bicker, steal, quote and quip in 2010's Ishqiya. Uncle Khalu and nephew Babban who had taken periodic cues from Romeo and fallen head over heels in love and lust with a femme fatale in the predecessor, are blessed to have two different women to fall in love with this time. Khalu loses it to an old flame, the reigning queen of Mahmoudabad, Para Begum, while Babban is besotted with her ancillary, Muniya. But there's a catch - the widowed Begum will choose a groom for her through an annual poetry competition, where Urdu maestros, armed with lines and lines of glorious poetry, compete against each other for the throne. Too fusty for you? Yeah, yeah. I thought as much. 

For a while back there, I could almost see the struggle put in to keep Dedh Ishqiya from being a period piece. True, these situations, these characters, these words would've melded rather well in a cultured epoch of the twentieth century. I mean, you don't get to see nawabs and begums saluting each other, engaging into an occasional wordplay and inviting shyness by cracking ribald lines now, do you? And I fervently wished Dedh Ishqiya were a period piece, because it would've been so much easier to invest into it. I can't put my soul into a movie I know is not what it seems. I pride and despise myself for that. And with this film, I lean a mite towards the former. Gosh, how I would've loved this movie only if the dates were changed! And the talk about iPhones and other modernistic stuff flagrantly snapped me out of its quixotic world. Jeez!

Baring that one minor niggle, the film is otherwise pitch-perfect. The writing is chiefly Urdu, and the playful chinwags are worth wolf-whistling about. The acerbic humor is cleverly utilized, and the pulp of it is given to the film's most vivacious character, Jaan Mohammed, the antagonist and one of the contenders for the throne. In a riotous sequence, a Mexican standoff lasts all night and is broken only when the sound of a posse of students singing for peace is heard. There are moments like these that win you over, and where you should give in gladly. You won't have a say in it, you know. They will sway you.

The performances are uniformly fantastic. Arshad Warsi and Naseeruddin Shah are sublime, Warsi giving the best performance of his young career. Really, here is an actor who needs to choose scripts assiduously, because half of the films he does do not bring out the acting chops a film like this does. Shah, an old-timer, is enigmatic and earnest, and this is the most fun I've seen him having in a long time. Madhuri Dixit-Nene still has that commanding screen presence she was famed for having. Huma Qureshi, who aptly plays her sidekick, Muniya, also plays the stereotype she always plays. A change of role now, please? 

But the real deal is Vijay Raaz, the scraggy marvel who is brilliant as the rather likable antagonist. Raaz has always been the sly scene-stealer in the movies he does, be it Delhi Belly or Monsoon Wedding, and he proves yet again why he's one of the most underrated actors in the industry who is shamelessly belittled. I sure hope this film would mean we would get to see him more often now.

I can't say if Dedh Ishqiya is an improvement or not, comparing it with its predecessor would mean denigrating both films, but it is better crafted and written. But I sorely missed the dark, mature undertone of Ishqiya, which was far more ambitious in its plotting. And yet, Dedh Ishqiya feels as if this is the kind of movie you were aching to see all this while. I sure as hell was.

Gorgeously shot against the backdrop of Uttar Pradesh's scenic landscapes, dotingly directed and flawlessly plotted, this is a film clearly in love with its language and characters. And it is this passion that makes you enjoy it more than you thought you would.