Category Archives: Reviews

Movie Review: Munjya (2024)

2 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Munjya on Hulu

Munjya is a nice-looking horror comedy that struggles with its central theme.

The story begins in 1952 in a village in Konkan. A young boy named Gotya (Ayush Ulagadde) is furious that the teenage girl he has a crush on is marrying someone else. He poisons the bride Munni’s fiancé and is publicly whipped by his parents for his destructive obsession. At night, Gotya takes his younger sister Gita (Khushi Hajare) to a sacred tree, intending to sacrifice her to a demon in exchange for Munni’s hand. But Gotya fatally injures himself, binding his spirit to the tree and becoming an evil spirit known as Munjya.

Generations later, timid hairdresser Bittu (Abhay Verma) suffers from frightening visions and hears Munjya’s voice. His mother Pammi (Mona Singh) and paternal grandmother Gita (Suhas Joshi) — the little sister from the intro — shielded him from the family’s sordid history and the role it played in his father’s death. Bittu learns the truth when the family returns to his father’s ancestral village, and he sets out to find the voice that calls to him.

Munjya — who is now a creepy blend of boy and tree — seizes the opportunity to escape, binding himself to Bittu. Death follows, and Munjya vows to kill everyone Bittu cares about in his quest to marry Munni. While Munni herself is now an old woman, her granddaughter Bela (Sharvari) — who happens to be Bittu’s childhood friend and unrequited crush — is her spitting image. Munjya decides he wants Bela instead.

The parallel’s between Munjya’s one-sided love and Bittu’s crush are obvious, but they don’t overlap enough to meaningfully support a theme. Bittu is never in any moral danger of his own preoccupation turning into a violent obsession, and Munjya is so single-minded that he never twists Bittu’s feelings to his own ends. There’s a late mention about mutual consent in relationships, but the idea is otherwise underdeveloped.

Instead, the story — directed by Aditya Sarpotdar and written by Niren Bhatt — treats Bittu’s cowardice as the flaw he must overcome. Yet Bittu is more shy than cowardly. Sure, he’d rather not upset his overbearing mother, and he hasn’t told Bela how he feels, but he’s otherwise pretty brave. He’s planning to study cosmetology in America by himself, and he seeks out Munjya all on his own.

If he’s afraid of Munjya, it’s with good reason. Munjya’s persistence and his capacity for violence are legitimately scary. While there aren’t many jump scares, imagining what it would be like to live harboring a killer demon is frightening enough.

Though billed as a horror comedy, the first 45 minutes are straight horror. Things lighten up a bit when Bittu enlists the help of his filmmaker friend Spielberg (Taranjot Singh), but by that point things are so grim that the balance feels off. The chaotic comic action sequence when the heroes confront Munjya is more tedious than humorous. There are a few very funny jokes, however, including the fraudulent faith-healer Padri’s (Sathyaraj) dubious story about the original vision for Indiana Jones.

An unfortunate side effect of Munjya‘s lackluster story is that none of the acting performances stand out. Everyone is adequate.

Given that the character Munjya is entirely computer generated, one of the big questions is: how does he look? Pretty terrific, actually. He’s substantial enough that his interactions with the characters and the environment feel believable. Munjya sets a new standard for the level of effects quality fans should expect from Hindi films going forward.

Overall, Munjya is a very good-looking movie. The seaside setting and gloomy forests are lovely in their own right. Nighttime shots are perfectly lit to set the mood without obscuring the action. The movie has all the style but needs more substance.

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Movie Review: Kaali Khuhi (2020)

2 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Kaali Khuhi on Netflix

The Netflix Original horror film Kaali Khuhi (“The Black Well“) centers on a compelling theme but falls flat in its execution.

10-year-old Shivangi (Riva Arora, who was delightful as Young Supri in Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota) lives in the city with her dad Darshan (Satyadeep Mishra) and mom Priya (Sanjeeda Sheikh), who’s pregnant with a baby girl.

The family is called back to Darshan’s village because his mother (played by Leela Samson) is seriously ill. She was afflicted shortly after a tormented man opened up a sealed well outside of the village, letting something out.

When they arrive at the family home, Darshan’s aunt Satya (Shabana Azmi) is agitated. Shivangi sees an apparition of a girl, and the adults hear strange noises in the house. Shivangi suspects that the truth lies in a scrapbook kept by Aunt Satya that is full of horrifying drawings and lists of girls’ names. This is not a safe place, but Darshan refuses to leave, even after his mother dies.

Director Terri Samundra — who co-wrote Kaali Khuhi with David Walter Lech — goes for an eerie tone rather than out-and-out scary, but it’s not totally successful. Apprehensive characters approach every spooky sound at such a slow pace that any tension dissipates by the time they find the source. The film is only 90 minutes-long, but it still feels padded.

In all that padding lies a missed opportunity to better connect the family’s story to that of the town. The curse applies to the whole village for its traditional practice of female infanticide, yet we really only see what’s happening to Shivangi’s family. They feel removed literally and figuratively from the rest of the village, even though they weren’t the only ones to participate in the heinous tradition. As such, the theme isn’t explored as thoroughly as it could have been.

This disconnect between the village and the events at the family homestead make it especially confusing when Darshan insists that they stay, presumably abandoning their life in the city along with Priya’s doctors and Shivangi’s school. Possibly it’s the curse making him do it, but it’s unclear.

The performances are underwhelming when the most common direction is: “look concerned and move slowly.” Prolonged periods of quiet are interrupted by a character suddenly screaming, making for unpleasant sound design. And there’s a moment at the end when things get very, very gross.

The most interesting thing about Kaali Khuhi is positioning a 10-year-old girl as the protagonist. Shivangi hasn’t hit puberty yet, so she may not have gotten the “birds and the bees” talk from her parents. Burdening a young kid with the knowledge that her ancestors murdered their newborn daughters feels unfair. But Shivangi demonstrates that sometimes you have to act with courage even when you’re unprepared.

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Movie Review: Bloody Ishq (2024)

Zero Stars (out of 4)

Watch Bloody Ishq on Hulu

Don’t let the above star-rating fool you — Bloody Ishq is a helluva fun movie. It’s just terribly made.

Director Vikram Bhatt’s fascination with computer-generated imagery dates back at least as far as 2013’s unintentional comedy gem Creature 3D, which featured the titular CGI monster. 2022’s Judaa Hoke Bhi marked the first time Bhatt would shoot a film entirely in a virtual production studio, generating just about every image in the movie apart from the actors using Unreal Engine (most commonly used for making video games).

Bloody Ishq presumably follows suit, since the entire movie looks like it was shot in front of a green screen. Other than the actors and the props they interact with, everything else on screen is computer generated. It looks like trash.

Bhatt’s latest horror venture — co-directed by Manish P. Chavan and written by Mahesh Bhatt and Shubham Dhiman — features his standard blend of supernatural mystery with sexy undertones. Neha (Avika Gor) survives a near-drowning with major gaps in her memory. She returns to the remote island mansion she lives in with her husband Romesh (Vardhaan Puri), but there’s something malevolent in the house.

While Neha is stuck on the island, too fearful to go near the water to ferry to the Scottish mainland, her best friend “Ayesha” (Ram Setu‘s Jeniffer Piccinato) appears in the house out of nowhere. Ayesha reminds Neha that she’d been looking into Romesh’s shady dealings before her accident, including the suspicious death of Romesh’s father.

The trouble is, Neha can’t remember anything — until she plays the piano! Then she’s able to see letters floating in the air like they’re part of some futuristic hologram that she can rearrange with her hands to form the title of a book she was reading before she almost died.

She only utilizes this magical ability once.

Herein lies the problem with the movie. Shooting in a virtual environment allows Bhatt to indulge whims without any regard to the shackles of physics, and he takes way too much advantage of this freedom. Why stop at ghosts when you can CGI mind powers, explosions, or a pointless car race? Having to adhere to the laws of physics forces a kind of economy of space and movement that in turn shapes the plot. Absent those restraints, Bloody Ishq‘s story spirals out of control.

It would be one thing if the use of CGI was limited to things that couldn’t be done safely or easily in reality — like having Neha scale a cliff in a mini skirt — but all the sets are CGI, too. Bhatt isn’t creating a whole world from scratch, a la James Cameron’s Avatar. It’s not hard to build a bedroom set or find a cafe to film in. Bloody Ishq was made the way it was in order to save money, and the final product looks cheap.

However, all the things that make Bloody Ishq a movie of low quality help to make it a film of vast unintentional comedy. I enjoyed watching every second of it. The floaty unreality of the CGI mansion interior and the way characters move throughout it is funny. As a bonus, the home is decorated with the same kind of creepy paintings as the haunted hotel in Bhatt’s goofy 2015 horror flick Khamoshiyan.

The acting is not good, although one can hardly blame Gor and Puri for not doing their best work in front of a green screen. Gor plays Neha in overdrive, culminating in a hilarious scene in which she reacts to someone impaled with a stake by screaming, “First aid! First aid!” and hunting for a kit full of BAND-AIDs and Bactine.

There is nary a Scottish accent to be heard among the “Scottish” extras. The sex scenes are not at all sexy, consisting mostly of closeups of faces that make it unclear as to whether the participants were even in the same room during filming.

Perhaps the secret to enjoying Bloody Ishq is a matter of calibrating expectations. Revel in all the things that don’t work about it, and you’ll have fun. Bloody Ishq is so bad it’s good.

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Movie Review: Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba (2024)

2.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba on Netflix

Taapsee Pannu and Vikrant Massey reprise the chaotic lovers Rani and Rishu from 2021’s Haseen Dillruba in Netflix’s first Original movie sequel: Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba (“Beautiful Beloved is Back” — and yes, there’s now an extra ‘s’ in Hasseen).

Familiarity with the first film is essential to understanding the characters and why they are living the way they are in the sequel (which takes place several years after the original). Thankfully, Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba offers a plot summary via a song montage within the first ten minutes. It’s a sufficient memory refresher for those who’ve watched the original.

As in Haseen Dillruba, the sequel begins with Rani (Pannu) in the middle of a crisis. She runs into a police station on a rainy night, claiming that her husband is trying to kill her. The action then flashes back to two months earlier. Rani lives in Agra and tells everyone she’s a widow, but the truth is her husband Rishu (Massey) is actually alive and living in town as well. They meet secretly in a park with a view of the Taj Mahal and plan their escape to Thailand, where they can finally be together again.

Of course things don’t go as planned. Inspector Kishore Jamwal (Aditya Srivastava, whose character was named Kishore Rawat in the original) still believes that Rani is a murderer, and he tracks her down in Agra. Worse, he’s brought along tenacious police officer Mritunjay Prasad (Jimmy Shergill), who happens to be the uncle of Rani’s affair partner Neel from the first movie. “Uncle Montu” won’t rest until he finds Rishu and makes him and Rani pay.

To confuse the cops, Rani proposes marriage to love-struck pharmacist Abhimanyu (Sunny Kaushal, who plays smitten beautifully). She warns him that her heart will always belong to Rishu, but Abhimanyu says he’s okay with that — until he finds out that Rishu is still alive.

Though Jayprad Desai directs Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba — and capably so — the franchise is the brainchild of screenwriter Kanika Dhillon. Mystery series are often centered around detectives, so there’s novelty in having the protagonists be criminals while still hitting all the necessary genre beats. The surprising character developments of the first film are largely absent since Rani and Rishu are known quantities, but that adds a pleasant feeling of familiarity.

In the best mysteries, there’s an element of “play along at home” that the viewer engages in, trying to figure out what’s going on before the writer reveals the solution. While there are some nice setups and payoffs, the ultimate revelations seem to come out of nowhere. More obvious possibilities are ignored in favor of answers that are totally unpredictable.

Part of why this happens is that Rani’s character is a fan of a fictitious mystery author Danish Pandit, and his works are continually referenced. Were Rani a fan of Agatha Christie, well-read viewers would be able to spot allusions to her books and guess where the story is going. But the Haseen Dillruba movies are tethered to the internal logic of an imaginary author’s bibliography, allowing Dhillon to explain everything away via a connection to Pandit. Everything makes sense if you’re a fan of Danish Pandit — but no one but Dhillon is, because Pandit isn’t real.

Nevertheless, Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba is consistently entertaining, with interesting performances throughout. If there’s a way to keep this franchise going, I hope Dhillon comes back for a third round.

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Movie Review: Kakuda (2024)

3 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Kakuda on Zee5

Kakuda is an entertaining horror comedy elevated by solid performances from its talented cast. The film is right in the wheelhouse of folks who enjoyed movies like Stree and Bhoot Police.

The town of Rathodi has been cursed for 65 years. Every Tuesday night at 7:15, one man from each house (women are exempt) must open a small door next to the home’s main entrance to show the ghost Kakuda that he’s welcome. Men who fail to open the door develop a hunchback and die within thirteen days.

This happens so often that the town has a protocol to fill those thirteen days — an extended funeral, but with the soon-to-be deceased in attendance. The glum victim poses for the photo that will hang on his family’s wall while village women sing a peppy song about how he should’ve opened the door on time.

Well-educated Indira (Sonakshi Sinha) lives in a neighboring town and dismisses the Kakuda legend as superstition. Sunny (Saqib Saleem), her boyfriend from Rathodi, knows better. She insists on eloping on a Tuesday, but the wedding runs long and he doesn’t make it home in time.

Even after seeing the hump on Sunny’s back, Indira still isn’t convinced it is anything more than a medical issue. An unsuccessful surgery turns her into a believer. Thankfully, the hospital’s security guard Victor (Riteish Deshmukh) is a part-time ghost hunter, and he offers his services to the newlyweds.

The theme of science versus superstition runs throughout the film, and Victor personifies it. He uses a mix of technology and magic to uncover the grievance driving Kakuda’s curse. Unlike a lot of American supernatural fare, the tragic backstory of Kakuda‘s ghost doesn’t absolve him of his misdeeds. The main trio needs all the help they can to end his reign of terror, including assistance from Sunny’s best friend Kilvish (Aasif Khan) and Indira’s identical twin sister Gomati (also Sinha).

Kakuda‘s cast is perfectly suited for the film’s tone. It’s very funny, but not in a goofy way, so the actors treat the material with sincerity. Sinha does the heavy lifting in her dual role, but Saleem is a wonderful sad-sack boyfriend. Khan is careful not to go over the top as the comical sidekick best friend.

Deshmukh also has plenty of experience in broad comedies, but his performance in Kakuda is understated and right on point. The costuming and styling department deserves credit because his edgy ghost hunter avatar is a particularly cool look.

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Movie Review: Wild Wild Punjab (2024)

2 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Wild Wild Punjab on Netflix

TV director Simarpreet Singh makes the jump to features with the Netflix Original film Wild Wild Punjab, a road trip comedy written and produced by Luv Ranjan.

Office drone Khanna (Varun Sharma) caught his co-worker girlfriend Vaishali cheating on him with their boss, and now the new couple is getting married.

Distraught Khanna wants to end his life, but his womanizing friend Maan (Sunny Singh) has a better idea. Maan says that, while Vaishali thinks she’s traded up, if Khanna tells her that he’s over her, it’ll make her question whether she’s with the right guy.

Their friend Honey (Manjot Singh) agrees, but he thinks it’ll be most effective if Khanna tells Vaishali “I am over you” in person. Festivities are underway for her wedding in Pathankot, which is only a three hour drive from Patiala. Honey offers to drive them there in his souped-up truck.

The only friend with reservations is cowardly Jain (Jassie Gill), but that’s just because he’s terrified of his overbearing dad. Jain’s own arranged marriage is scheduled for next week, so he’s already got plenty to worry about. Still, the guys convince Jain to lie to his dad and join them since they’ll be back from Patiala by morning. What could go wrong?

Before they’ve even left town, the guys crash a wedding to get free food and drinks. When they wake up hungover the next morning at a stranger’s house, Jain discovers he’s married to the woman whose wedding they crashed. And they’re still hours away from Pathankot.

As immature as the friends are, they’re actually decent guys. Their plan isn’t borne out of vindictiveness, but out of concern for Khanna’s well-being. Taking him to his ex’s wedding to tell her he’s moved on isn’t that disruptive, and it will give him back a sense of control.

After some initial reluctance, they even welcome Jain’s accidental bride Radha (Patralekhaa) into the group. She suggests that Khanna’s declaration will be more believable if he’s accompanied by a new woman, and they head to a nearby college to find one. That’s how feisty Meera (Ishita Raj) joins the crew.

When the story focuses on the characters, it’s pretty entertaining. It helps that the acting is uniformly good, with Manjot Singh and Patralekhaa standing out among the rest. Counterintuitively, the story drags during the action scenes in the second half, when the group engages in multiple car chases and a shootout with drug dealers. Drugs and guns feel like perfunctory signifiers that the movie is set in Punjab, as if without those tropes the movie would lack a sense of place.

Simarpreet Singh’s direction is overall good, and the screenplay — co-written by Ranjan, Sandeep Jain, and Harman Wadala — is decent. But Wild Wild Punjab is a misleading title for a movie so conventional.

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Movie Review: Sharmajee Ki Beti (2024)

3 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Sharmajee Ki Beti on Amazon Prime

First-time feature director Tahira Kashyap Khurrana (wife of actor Ayushmann Khurrana) shows a lot of promise with her comedy-drama Sharmajee Ki Beti (“Sharmajee’s Daughter“). The story peeks into the lives of five women and girls–all with the last name Sharma–living in the same apartment building, as they deal with different gender-related problems.

Kashyap Khurrana makes the mistake that plenty of filmmakers have made before by treating “women’s issues” as a single theme that can be addressed in its entirety in one film. It’s not a fatal flaw, but it does make the screenplay — which was written Kashyap Khurrana — feel unfocused at times.

The character whose arc least successfully integrates with the rest is that of Tanvi Sharma (Saiyami Kher), a single woman living in the building. She’s a state-level cricket player, but her actor boyfriend Rohan (Ravjeet Singh) only cares about her looks. Kher does a fine job showing Tanvi’s attempts to reconcile her self-image with the one Rohan wants her to present, but it’s a thin premise. The movie wouldn’t have suffered without her plotline.

Kashyap Khurrana had everything she needed for a full film with the four remaining Sharma ladies: the mother-daughter pairs of Jyoti (Sakshi Tanwar) & Swati (Vanshika Taparia) and Kiran (Divya Dutta) & Gurveen (Arista Mehta). Daughters Swati and Gurveen are 13-year-old best friends. Jyoti teaches at a coaching center, while Kiran is a stay-at-home mom.

Between them, Jyoti and Kiran face a lot of the problems of modern motherhood. Jyoti struggles to balance her career and the satisfaction it gives her with her duties to her sweet husband Sudhir (Sharib Hashmi) and to Swati. On the flip side, Kiran feels isolated after moving from Patiala to Mumbai, especially with her businessman husband Vinod (Parvin Dabas) acting distant and staying out late. Tanwar and Dutta are both terrific, but Dutta really makes the most of her sympathetic role.

The real stars of Sharmajee Ki Beti are the girls, Swati and Gurveen. The whole movie could have been about them. Their story arcs are that endearing and their performances are that charming. Swati is OBSESSED with the fact that she’s the only girl in her class that hasn’t gotten her period yet. Gurveen tolerates Swati’s constant menstrual talk, while coming to grips with her own preoccupation with one of the pretty older girls at school.

Kashyap Khurrana’s strongest attribute as a director is her faith in her actors, and that faith extends to the two teens playing Swati and Gurveen. The girls have long dialogue exchanges that are shot in one take, and Taparia and Mehta are more than up to the task. Their scenes together are the most immersive in the movie, because they feel like real friends. Keeping the camera on them for as long as Kashyap Khurrana does while both of them are in frame adds to the immersion.

I cannot say enough wonderful things about Vanshika Taparia as Swati. She gives an outstanding performance. She’s hysterically funny when bemoaning her delayed puberty. She’s also crushing in the way only a teen girl can be when her mom forgets to pick her up from school. The recent boom (comparatively speaking) in Hindi movies about teenagers gives me hope that we’ll get to see more of Taparia sooner rather than later. Her performance alone is reason enough to watch Sharmajee Ki Beti.

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Movie Review: Kill (2023)

3.5 Stars (out of 4)

Buy or rent Kill on Amazon Prime

Karan Johar’s Dharma Productions deviates from its signature lush romantic dramas to produce Kill, an extremely violent movie that is visually stunning in its own way. After wowing audiences at its Toronto International Film Festival premiere in 2023, Kill found an international distributor in Lionsgate, which is giving the movie a major theatrical release in the United States on July 4, 2024.

Kill‘s protagonist Amrit is played by TV actor Lakshya, who makes his big-screen debut in the first of the three movies he’s under contract for with Dharma Productions. Amrit is an Indian Army commando who returns from an assignment to a slew of missed messages from his girlfriend Tulika (Tooth Pari‘s Tanya Maniktala). Tulika’s powerful, well-connected father has arranged her engagement to another man, and Amrit must rescue her before the wedding.

Amrit crashes Tulika’s engagement party while his friend and fellow commando Viresh (Abhishek Chauhan) waits in the getaway car. Tulika says it’ll be safer for Amrit to rescue her after her family’s overnight train ride to Delhi, so he and Viresh sneak onto the train.

Unfortunately, the train is targeted by an extended family of about three dozen bandits who intend to isolate several train cars and rob all of the passengers of their valuables within 30 minutes. It should be an easy job, but they didn’t bargain on there being commandos onboard.

Amrit and Viresh are able to knock out several of the thieves in their carriage, but one attacks Viresh with a knife. Viresh instinctively turns the knife around to stab his attacker, killing the man. The bandit’s death changes the terms of engagement, and the gang’s mission expands to include murdering the commandos and any unfortunate passenger who gets in their way.

The repercussions of death is a theme that the movie returns to time and again. Whenever a person on either side of the fight between bandits and non-bandits dies, it raises the stakes by motivating the living to take revenge. Constantly reminding viewers that each character has someone who will grieve their passing keeps the deaths from being trivialized — a tricky but laudable goal in a film with a high body count.

Also raising the stakes are the cramped quarters within which the fighting takes place. Amrit and Viresh punch and kick the bad guys in the narrow corridor running through the middle of the train car, trying to avoid injuring frightened passengers in the process. Squaring off in the open space next to the bathroom feels comparatively luxurious. All the while, they and their opponents find novel ways to utilize the tools at their disposal. Amrit’s use of a fire extinguisher is particularly gruesome.

That said, Kill is more violent than it is gory. There’s much more blood than viscera, if that makes a difference. In some ways, the violence in Kill is less shocking than other instances of violence in Hindi films. Context is important, and Kill is very clear about what kind of movie it is (the title is kind of a giveaway). I found the violence in a film like 2013’s Boss much more unsettling given its tonal inconsistency. One minute, Akshay Kumar’s character is humorously hitting his opponents on the head with coconuts, the next he impales a man in the chest with a circular saw blade.

The execution of the action in Kill is second to none. Action directors Se-yeong Oh and Parvez Shaikh give every move weight, and they maneuver the characters through the cramped carriage in a way that seems physically impossible. As the characters’ injuries mount, their fighting speed and power ratchet down to make it more believable.

Lakshya is a legit action star, even after just one movie. As Vidyut Jammwal branches out from martial arts flicks and Tiger Shroff reevaluates after successive box office flops, Lakshya is ready to fill the void. Chauhan’s Viresh is no less dynamic and exciting in his fight scenes.

Maniktala’s Tulika is more than just a damsel in distress, displaying courage when the bandit leader’s son Fani (Raghav Juyal) sets his eyes on her. Juyal wisely underplays Fani so that he’s not too slimy or menacing, but still dangerous because he knows he operates from a privileged position.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about Kill is that it is so good despite being directed by Nikhil Nagesh Bhat. Bhat directed what I thought was the worst Hindi movie of 2022 (the morally odious Hurdang), and his bandit action flick Apurva made my “Worst of” list in 2023 as well. Clearly Dharma Productions saw something in Bhat’s abilities that I hadn’t before. Credit to his Kill co-writer Ayesha Syed as well.

The whole film works because it routinely pauses so that characters (and the audience) can process their emotions. No one can fight for two hours non-stop anyway, allowing Bhat to lean into the melodrama, anger, and heartbreak the characters are feeling during those pauses in the action. In that sense, Kill feels at home in the filmography of the same studio that developed Kabhi Khushi Khabie Gham.

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Movie Review: LSD 2 – Love Sex aur Dhokha 2 (2024)

1 Star (out of 4)

Watch LSD 2 on Netflix

Filmmaker Dibakar Banerjee has made some excellent movies. LSD 2: Love, Sex aur Dhokha 2 isn’t one of them.

Like Banerjee’s 2010 film Love, Sex aur Dhokha (“Love, Sex and Betrayal“), LSD 2 consists of three stories that slightly overlap, shot using camera equipment and effects that aren’t typical of feature filmmaking. In the sequel, those formats include things like a reality TV show, online meetings, and Twitch streaming.*

This style of storytelling lost me from the opening minute and never won me back.

LSD 2‘s first story centers around a reality show called “Truth or Dance” that is a combination of Big Brother and So You Think You Can Dance, but with a romantic angle (I’m not sure what the Indian equivalents of these shows are, if any). The film’s audience is dropped right into an episode of the show, complete with on-screen graphics and flashbacks to earlier episodes. It takes time to get used to the visual format, let alone make sense of what’s happening on the show.

In the fake show, contestants vie for points based on how compelling viewers find their stories. They’re encouraged to be on-camera as much as possible, whether they’re having sex with a fellow contestant or fighting with them. They periodically stand in front of a judging panel and either answer a question truthfully or perform a dance with their partner.

The show premise sounds absurd when written out. That’s a huge problem, considering that LSD 2 doesn’t merely tell a story about a fictitious reality show but tries to recreate the experience of watching a reality show. The “Truth or Dance” segment is shot using all the angles and techniques a competitive reality show does, and there are even cutaways to a YouTube channel where a content creator gives tips for audience members who can bet on the show’s results.

Such devotion to authentically recreating the viewing experience puts the “Truth or Dance” segment into an uneasy space where it feels less realistic than if it had been told in a more observational manner, a la a behind-the-scenes TV series like Sports Night. I could believe the segment more easily if it was about a ridiculous reality show rather than trying to convince me that I was watching a ridiculous reality show.

I say “ridiculous reality show” as a reality TV fan. By making “Truth or Dance” so absurd, Banerjee and co-writers Prateek Vats and Shubham seem to sneer at the very idea of reality shows. This attitude winds up influencing and overshadowing the character arc of the segment’s protagonist, a mercurial trans woman named Noor (Paritosh Tiwari).

One of the main characters in the second segment is also a trans woman. Kullu (Bonita Rajpurohit) is assaulted on her way home from her job working as a cleaner at a metro station. The details of the case present a problem for her employer, and her fickle boss Lovina (Swastika Mukherjee) deals with it though a series of Zoom meetings and video calls. The story overall is better than the first segment, but a fictional Zoom call can only be so exciting.

The final segment follows a teenage Twitch streamer who goes by the name “Game Paapi” (Abhinav Singh). In the middle of a stream, his feed is hacked by a convincing deep-fake video of him having gay sex. His insistence that the video is fake drives his popularity in a direction he doesn’t want, taking a toll on his mental state.

The performances overall are fine, but they are overshadowed and interrupted by the format. In every segment, scenes jump from YouTube videos to cable news to man-on-the-street footage to Zoom calls. It’s a commentary on the short-attention spans of the digital age, but with an important difference. In real life, I control what I’m watching and when I switch between mediums. LSD 2 feels more like turning over the TV remote to your fidgety father-in-law as he randomly flips between a Chicago Cubs game, She’s All That, and Road House, then asks you to explain what’s happening.

*I’m using the brand names whose formats are being mimicked (Twitch, Zoom, YouTube) for the sake of simplicity, but the movie invents fake brand names for all of them except Metaverse.

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Movie Review: Maharaj (2024)

2.5 Stars (out of 4)

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Maharaj recounts a legal case of historic importance but fails to stir the emotions around its sensitive subject matter.

The main story takes place in Bombay in 1862 and focuses on journalist Karsandas Mulji (Junaid Khan, son of Aamir Khan). Growing up in Gujarat, young Karsan questioned everything, refusing to follow orders on blind faith. By the time he was 30, he was an established social reformer, activist, and writer.

A devout Hindu, Karsan worships at a sect run by a charismatic religious figure — or maharaj — called JJ (Jaideep Ahlawat). The other holy men at the place of worship appreciate JJ for expanding the sect’s reach and growing its coffers.

In return, JJ exploits his peers’ permissive attitude and his followers’ blind faith to indulge in what the movie calls “erotic escapades.” He uses tradition to pressure young women devotees into having sexual intercourse with him under the moniker of “divine service.” Other men pay to watch, promised that witnessing the act will help them achieve salvation.

Theology also enables this sexual abuse. Holy texts are written in Sanskrit, which most lay people can’t read. The maharaj interprets scripture for the laity, who lack the knowledge to challenge his interpretations. It’s akin to the language barrier which separated Catholic lay people from the liturgy until the 1960s, at which point priests were finally allowed to conduct mass in local languages rather than exclusively in Latin. The parallels between the abusive culture in Maharaj and the abuse abetted by the Catholic Church is hard to miss — though the film goes out of its way to frame JJ as a lone bad actor without blaming Hinduism as a whole.

JJ’s abuse comes to light when he sets his sights on Karsan’s fiancée Kishori (Shalini Pandey), and Karsan witnesses her partaking in “divine service.” Though she’s uncomfortable about what happened with JJ — it’s unclear whether she knew she was being observed by strangers — her faith refuses to allow her to question the leader’s intentions. Only when Karsan breaks their engagement does she realize she may have been wronged by the holy man.

Kishori’s mistreatment prompts Karsan to write about JJ’s sexual abuse in his newspaper. JJ responds with social pressure, witness intimidation, and even arson. When Karsan refuses to back down, JJ sues him for libel for an astronomical amount of money.

The way the events are portrayed in Maharaj — which is directed by Siddharth P. Malhotra and written by Sneha Desai, Vipul Mehta, and Bernard Williams — Karsan prints his allegations with little in the way of concrete proof, so there actually is an interesting question as to whether JJ has a case. Unfortunately, the courtroom scenes show little of the legal back-and-forth and primarily set up Karsan’s climactic speech (though JJ does give a few theatrical shows of power that are entertaining).

Overall, the film falls into an uneasy space where it doesn’t hit the emotional parts of the story as hard as it could have for a real melodrama, nor does it delve into the details like a legal drama or film on investigative journalism. It’s undoubtedly watchable, but it feels like a very well done made-for-TV movie.

Ahlawat is perfectly cast as the slimy JJ, maintaining an infuriating air of self-assurance throughout. Pandey is sympathetic as the duped Kishori. Shavari Wagh appears midway through the film as Karsan’s admirer, Viraaj, but the comic relief she’s asked to provide feels out of place.

Khan is under the microscope as a star’s son his first lead role, and he performs okay as Karsan. It’s a tough role to play in a story this tepid. Khan is very tall, and there’s a physical awkwardness to the way he moves — like a foal on unsteady legs. Being that he’s a newcomer, it’s hard to know if that’s his characterization of Karsan or simply him.

Malhotra and studio Yash Raj Entertainment tread carefully with this story about a corrupt holy man to avoid inflaming tensions unnecessarily, resulting in a movie that pulls its punches. Unfortunately, the folks who were always going to be mad about it got mad anyway, and the rest of us got a movie that was good but not great.

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