FilmiBoi

Javed Akhtar says "All films originate from Mother India". He practices what he preaches. Doffing its hat to both the Oscar nominated classic and Dilip Kumar's Ganga Jamuna, his film Deewaar presents a similar tale of two brothers finding themselves on either sides of the moral compass (overtly denoted by a fork outside a temple). The brothers, divergent in life pursuits, converge at a single syllable cry: Maa! The mother has always been an iconic part of literature, but a more fervent one of Bollywood. Why? Because it adds melodrama, facets of motherly devotion, religiosity, sacrifice and putting up with life's challenges with a brave smiling face. Mothers in Indian cinema are, or were for the most time, Gandhian, saintly and as innocent and pure as the biblical sheep. But what happens when the sanctity of "maa" is challenged? Obviously, her more moralistic child wins, leaving the bad apple to die, repent or redeem. Also, the two of them are then critically

All Gulzar films have a clichéd compartmentalised plotline. Estranged people meet at a juncture where time makes relationships things and ascribes relationships to things. An article here, an object there, and the mind goes down memory lane. I call this formulaic storyboarding as the Gulzar flashback, which he uses so judiciously and masterfully in his films. Ijaazat is just one of them. And even though its story is adapted, it has that Gulzar touch, of maturing relationships while nurturing moments and vice-versa. Source: IMDb Mahendra (Naseeruddin Shah) is caught in a love triangle with fiancee Sudha (Rekha) and lover Maya (Anuradha Patel). He gets engaged to Sudha but has to reimagine life without Maya's fatal attraction towards him. This is the premise of the film. In other words, it does not begin here.  It begins at a railway station, where the estranged couple meet. Mahendra and Sudha, who were once a promising couple, now sit a distance from one another. One thing leads to

No rain No grain,  "Ghanan Ghanan" But all in vain.  Now, pay or play.  Bhutan's XI decide to save  Their dharti-ambar  By the Gentlemen's game "Chale Chalo".  Firangi Russell is insane,  Loving is the gori mem.  Meanwhile Gauri "Radha" chhori is in envious flames. Her beloved "Kanha" is in a love triangle, Unrequited Lakha's in a haze. The boys train, Kachra spins, joins the game.  Nigh is the day, "O Palanhare" please save! Scorching sun rays The English and their ways Bhutan's XI struggle In pain and hail Bhuvan when he's kept his strike Over the days Bhuvan's ablaze And the crowd is amazed As the ball goes up Up all the way Alas it is caught By the scheming angrez Oh no! Oh yes!  It is a six The paschim is dazed. Farewell farewell  To the taxing days Farewell farewell For here comes the rain "Ke bhaiyya chhooti lagaan!"

Source: IMDb Pari is a question mark on the sensibilities of childhood fables. It is far removed from a world of binaries, where the good is puritan white and the evil is satanic black. Its story juxtaposes such fantastic characters as jinns into the real world, grey and pulsating with emotions. It humanises the feared, making us feel for the numbed, making us realise frame after frame that there is life within those without it. The film starts off with a dewy mise en scene and maintains it throughout the two hours of runtime, possibly signifying the unpredictability of the unknown hiding behind a pall of rainy mist. But the suspense does not linger for long. The overuse of auditory jump-scares—which are nothing but amplifications of minuscule diegetic sounds—makes for a heart-wrenching first impression and an indifferent last one. Indian audiences have had enough of those shrieks, heavy breaths and sudden jerks since the Ramsay days. What’s so different about Pari then? Its ability

The romantics have naysaid their hobby to be a tragedy. How they meet the “someone somewhere made for them” and then Cupid conjures the sorcery of separation. This is the moniker of traditional romantic sagas. Tough on the heart and over the head, these stories attract either mushy couples or midnight loners to the cinema.  But few can digest this saccharine on-screen. This poses a challenge to the director. How to present the idea of love without making the audience cringe? How to make the film lighter? Simple. Dilute love with laughter and give rise to the adolescent potpourri called romantic-comedy, lovingly abbreviated “rom-com”.  When Harry Met Sally... (1989), the best rom-com according to Google. Image source: Amazon A Google search of the ‘best rom-com’ leads to the 1989 hit When Harry Met Sally…, a film which launched both Meg Ryan and countless spin-offs, both at Hollywood and home. The plot chronicles the chance encounters of the lead pair as they question and eventually fin

Bollywood Muslim socials have come a long way from merely qawwalis, courts and courtesans. Since the mid-‘90s they have been venturing more domestically within the Muslim milieu. How faith interplays in and gets affected by matters of the home and beyond. This is consummately evident in Shyam Benegal’s National Award winning Mammo .  Source: IMDb Written by Khalid Mohammed, the film serves as the first instalment of his Muslim trilogy. Though the films that follow ( Sardari Begum and Zubeidaa ) harken back to the stereotypical courtesans and Muslim aristocracy, Mammo is a slice of life story embittered with the macabre of the Partition and the administrative apathy in assuaging its brutal aftermath.  Mammo follows the life and times of Mehmooda “Mammo” Begum (Farida Jalal), as she visits her sister and grandson in India, coming all the way from Pakistan (on a temporary visa) to escape her abusive in-laws. Domestically and legally speaking, Mammo is homeless. At most she is (and most