Tag Archives: Movie Review

Movie Review: Be Happy (2025)

1.5 Stars (out of 4)

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The problem with writer-director Remo D’Souza’s Be Happy is that he doesn’t trust his audience to connect emotionally with his characters.

That shouldn’t be a concern in this father-daughter story. Humans have evolved to feel protective of children, so the second cute kid Dhara (Inayat Verma) shows up, we’re ready to care about her.

Dhara’s an elementary schooler who taught herself to dance by watching videos of celebrity choreographer Maggie (Nora Fatehi). Dhara and her maternal grandfather Nadar (Nassar) binge dance competition shows in the Ooty home they share with Dhara’s father Shiv (Abhishek Bachchan).

It’s been eight years since Dhara’s mother Rohini (Harleen Sethi) died. In that time, Shiv has handled the bulk of the parenting responsibilities, yet he is constantly surprised by things that happen in Dhara’s life. She wins her school’s dance competition, the prize for which is a spot at Maggie’s dance academy in Mumbai. This prize is news to Shiv, who barely seems aware of how important dancing is to Dhara. He refuses the offer, insulting Maggie in the process.

All of the ups and downs Dhara experiences are punctuated with a heavy-handed musical score that practically shouts the little girl’s emotional state at the audience. Verma is a capable young actor — she and Bachchan previously shared a subplot in the Netflix movie Ludo — so it’s not like she needs the help. I suspect anyone who doesn’t feel sad when a kid feels sad or happy when they feel happy isn’t paying attention in the first place.

Shiv relents, and he and Dhara make a temporary move to Mumbai. Under Maggie’s tutelage, Dhara earns a spot in a TV dance competition for kids. She advances to the round where the young dancers are supposed to perform a number with a family member, a development which once again catches Shiv by surprise.

This father-daughter dance is one of the few performances for which we are shown the choreography process, wherein beautiful Maggie teaches stiff Shiv to loosen up. Otherwise, the performance rounds are shown one right after the other, making it seem as though Dhara and Maggie’s other young student dancer Prem (Sanchit Chanana) are coming up with their routines on the fly. Showing them learn and struggle through the choreography process is a missed opportunity for character development.

But that gets to one of the film’s other big problems: it’s not really about Dhara, even if she is the one driving the action. Her character development is limited because Be Happy is really about Shiv’s need to move on from his wife’s death. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but centering the male lead actor is predictable. Just because Bachchan is the most famous cast member doesn’t mean he’s the only one able to play a character we can empathize with.

Reducing Dhara to a prop in order to center Shiv doesn’t even pay off. The little girl helps to foster a romantic relationship between her father and Maggie, but Bachchan and Fatehi have zero chemistry. If there’s any science in their subplot, it’s mortuary science.

Be Happy might be D’Souza’s safest, most disappointing movie yet. He made better dance films with his ABCD series, and even A Flying Jatt had more to say about parent-child relationships than this. There’s little to be happy about here.

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Movie Review: Nadaaniyan (2025)

1 Star (out of 4)

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Producer Karan Johar serves up fresh talent in the stalest of offerings — the youthful romantic comedy Nadaaniyan (“Innocence“).

Sridevi’s youngest daughter Khushi Kapoor plays rich girl Pia Jaisingh, who’s in a rough spot as she starts her senior year at an elite Delhi boarding school. Her friends Sahira (Aaliyah Qureishi) and Rhea (Apoorva Makhija) are mad at her for ignoring them all summer and failing to disclose that Sahira’s crush Ayaan (Dev Agasteya) was sending flirty text messages. Pia’s solution? Invent a fake boyfriend.

Thankfully, hunky Arjun Mehta (Ibrahim Ali Khan, son of Saif Ali Khan) just transferred to the school. His dad Sanjay (Jugal Hansraj) is a doctor, and his mom Nandini (Dia Mirza) teaches at the school, making him essentially destitute, compared to his well-heeled classmates. Arjun agrees to pose as Pia’s boyfriend in exchange for money.

If this sounds like a knock-off version of Johar’s 2012 directorial Student of the Year — another star-kid launch vehicle — that’s because it mostly is. More accurately, Nadaaniyan feels cobbled together from material deemed not good enough for SOTY, left rotting on a shelf for more than a decade. For example, the school’s principal Mrs. Braganza Malhotra (Archana Puran Singh, reviving her character from 1998’s Kuch Kuch Hota Hai) comically misuses youthful slang, mistaking “LOL” as meaning “lots of love.” Arjun’s big plan to get rich after he spends a half-dozen years in law school and interning is to build an app.

It’s not just that the material feels dated. It feels like it was stitched together without a care for continuity or world-building. Arjun plans to get a college athletic scholarship for swimming, but we never see him compete as a swimmer. The whole plot revolves around his debate team captaincy. Does the school even have a swim team?

The only reason Arjun’s athleticism is even mentioned is as an excuse for Khan to show his abs, which is how he becomes debate team captain (no, I’m not joking). Focusing on Khan’s and Kapoor’s physiques isn’t in itself problematic, since they’re both twenty-four, but they are playing teenagers. The camera ogles both of them in swimwear in a scene that comes before Pia’s eighteenth birthday party. If they had been written as college students, it wouldn’t feel as gross.

Of course, Arjun’s fake relationship with Pia turns into something real, especially as he builds her confidence and encourages her to dream bigger than the stereotypical girl careers like fashion that her family is pushing for. Pia’s dysfunctional family includes mom Neelu (Mahima Chaudhry), dad Rajat (Suniel Shetty), and paternal grandfather Dhanraj (Barun Chanda). The Jaisingh men are salty that Neelu could never give them a son. Neelu beats herself up for it, Rajat cheats on her, and everyone makes Pia feel like nothing more than a pretty ornament. When tensions in the Jaisingh house finally boil over, it happens so explosively that it feels out of step with the frothy tone of the rest of the film.

With three films under her belt now, Kapoor still has much to learn, but she has potential. As in The Archies, she’s shown herself an attentive performer that plays well off of others. Khan’s future is less certain. He doesn’t feel fully engaged here, though director Shauna Gautam is also partially responsible for that. The weak screenplay by Riva Razdan Kapoor, Ishita Moitra, and Jehan Handa doesn’t give anyone much to work with.

The only people who come out of Nadaaniyan looking good are Mirza and Hansraj as Arjun’s parents. There’s a real tenderness in the way they deal with their angsty son and his friends. Too bad the movie wasn’t about them.

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Movie Review: Mrs. (2023)

3.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Mrs. on ZEE5

A bride’s newlywed bliss is slowly crushed under household demands and unattainable standards set by her new husband and his father in the relentless drama Mrs.. The film isn’t presented as a thriller, but it elicits some of the same oppressive feelings as movies in that genre.

Mrs. is Cargo-director Arati Kadav’s adaptation of Jeo Baby’s 2021 Malayalam movie The Great Indian Kitchen (which I haven’t seen). The Hindi version stars Sanya Malhotra as Richa Sharma, the leader of a dance troupe. Through an arranged marriage, she weds Diwakar Kumar (Nishant Dahiya). He’s a handsome doctor who is kind and attentive in the run-up to their wedding.

Upon moving into Diwakar’s family home with her in-laws, Richa notices that her mother-in-law Meena (Aparna Ghoshal) spends her day in near-constant labor, waking before everyone and going to sleep last. Father-in-law Ashwin (Kanwaljit Singh) is particular about his meals, so Meena has to do a lot of work by hand that could be done by a machine more quickly.

Diwakar’s sister lives far away and is expecting her first baby. Richa offers to take over the household chores so that Meena can go help with her new grandchild. Meena happily takes Richa up on the offer, but she knows that her daughter-in-law is in for a hard time.

A learning curve is to be expected, but Richa’s lack of familiarity with the house is not the problem. Even when she does as she’s asked, her father-in-law finds flaws. When she executes a recipe perfectly, he invents problems. She just can’t seem to do anything to his satisfaction.

That’s exactly the point. Giving Richa approval would give her leverage, and that’s the last thing the Kumar men would ever do.

The relationships between men and women in Mrs. are defined by power imbalances. The methods used for maintaining that balance are less obviously villainous than, say, locking Richa in a closet, but are just as abusive nonetheless. It’s the cumulative weight of indignities, insults, and lack of agency — designed to make Richa too exhausted to resist — that reveal them as the control tactics they are.

That’s even before mentioning the fact that Diwakar subjects Richa to daily, painful sexual intercourse. He’s never noticed that he’s hurting her or cared that she’s not having a good time. It’s more important for him to get her pregnant, giving her yet more to do and making it that much harder for her to leave.

Kadav is careful not to be too heavy-handed with the tone of her film. She lets the audience draw their own conclusions from the actions of the characters, without relying on things like melodramatic music. It’s clear what’s happening.

Kadav also knows how to use her greatest asset: Sanya Malhotra. An opening dance number show’s Malhotra for the star she is, and she’s just as skilled through the rest of the film. She portrays Richa as a woman who is sincerely doing her best while she being pulled farther and farther away from the woman she was before marriage. She’s not a quitter, so it takes her a long time to accept that her best will never be enough.

Dahiya and Singh deserve a lot of credit as well for playing their characters with restraint. The point of the film would be lost if Diwakar and his dad were cartoon villains. Everyone knows them to be upstanding citizens and devoted family men, and that’s how they see themselves. They act in a manner that will get them what they want while still maintaining that image.

I really enjoyed Kadav’s film Cargo, which is delightful to watch. Mrs. is anything but delightful, but it’s an impressive achievement all the same.

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Movie Review: Superboys of Malegaon (2024)

3.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Superboys of Malegaon on Amazon Prime

Superboys of Malegaon is a film for anyone who loves movies. Director Reema Kagti’s latest is a touching story of friendship and all the things that can go right and wrong in the creative process.

Varun Grover’s screenplay is based on director Faiza Ahmad Khan’s documentary Supermen of Malegaon. The documentary itself is wonderful, and Grover brilliantly adapts its fictional version.

The story begins in 1997 in the industrial town of Malegaon, about 300 kilometers from Mumbai. Movies are a popular pastime for the men in the city, but film reels are hard to come by. The small theater Nasir (Adarsh Gourav) runs with his older brother gets by screening Charlie Chaplin movies, but business is lousy.

Their fortunes improve when Nasir learns how to edit together VHS tapes using two VCRs. His mashups of Chaplin and Bruce Lee are a hit, until the cops bust him for piracy. That’s when Nasir realizes that he needs to make his own films.

He’s got everything he needs within his circle of friends. Nasir can direct and edit. Akram (Anuj Singh Duhan) is the town’s wedding videographer. Farogh (Vineet Kumar Singh) writes for the newspaper. Irfan (Saqib Ayub) can act. And Shafique (Shashank Arora) can do whatever else is needed.

Nasir rejects Farogh’s suggestion for a more serious story, reasoning that things in Malegaon are tough enough as is. They settle on a parody of Sholay called simply “Malegaon’s Sholay.” With the help of plenty of other people in town and a dancer named Trupti (Manjiri Pupala), their original film becomes a massive local hit.

Watching the guys make the film with the technology available in a small Indian city in 1997 is a treat. They improvise a dolly by strapping Akram’s video camera to bicycle. Trupti’s vanity van is an auto-rickshaw with a shawl draped over one side. It’s not fancy, but it works.

Yet even this crew of friends is susceptible to the stressors that can foil any collaborative creative project. Disputes over input, respect, and financial compensation strain the group, and Nasir — who enjoys being celebrated as the brains behind the operation — is too prideful to stop things from unraveling.

The story is ultimately about learning the real meaning and value of friendship, but it doesn’t happen overnight. Since the movie is based on real people who have lives outside of their amateur filmmaking endeavors, Superboys of Malegaon takes place over the course of thirteen years. That just emphasizes how difficult it can be to put egos aside and apologize for bad behavior.

It’s hard to imagine a more perfect cast for this underdog story. Adarsh Gourav skillfully portrays Nasir as the kind of guy with enough charisma to pull together this kind of project, but with the flaws that often accompany that kind of charisma. Vineet Kumar Singh’s quiet seething as the writer whose ideas get trampled by his director represents the many contemporary Indian screenwriters who feel devalued by the industry.

With his skinny arms and incongruous pompadour, it’s impossible not to love Shashank Arora’s Shafique. Though everyone in the film feels their lives limited by lack of opportunity, that’s most true for Shafique. He’s the forgotten member even within his friend group. But from the minute he’s introduced, it’s obvious that he’s the heart of the film.

Reema Kagti’s movie is made with real affection for everyone who inspired it. It’s in details like all the retro movie technology and Bhawna Sharma’s charming costume design. It’s in casting just the right performers to bring these scrappy guys to the big screen. Superboys of Malegaon is a lovable movie.

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Movie Review: Dhoom Dhaam (2025)

3.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Dhoom Dhaam on Netflix

Dhoom Dhaam knows exactly what it wants to be: a light romantic comedy with a touch of adventure that will make you laugh and not feel like you’ve wasted two hours. It delivers exactly that.

Yami Gautam Dhar and Pratik Gandhi star as Koyal and Veer. Their parents arranged their marriage, and they find one another attractive and accomplished enough to agree to the match. Koyal’s clingy family ensures that the couple never has a moment alone in the weeks before their wedding, but everyone seems happy with the arrangement.

Their first awkward moments alone in a hotel room on their wedding night are interrupted by a knock on the door. A pair of gun-toting tough guys barge in demanding to know where Charlie is. Neither Koyal nor Veer know anyone named Charlie, but the thugs assume they are lying.

A daring escape from their balcony reveals that Koyal is much more courageous than timid Veer. That’s further confirmed when they race away from the men in Veer’s car, and he’s more worried about getting a speeding ticket than the fact that their pursuers are shooting at them. Thankfully, Koyal is an experienced street racer.

That’s not to say that Veer is totally gutless. He’s a veterinarian, so blood doesn’t bother him. When their search for Charlie takes them to a male strip club, he does what he has to do and entertains the ravenous patrons with a cartwheel in his boxer shorts. Seeing a bunch of other women lusting after her new husband makes Koyal think that he might be a catch after all.

The action as the newlyweds race all over town is energetic, but not gruesome or too intense. This is definitely not an R-rated movie. Likewise, there isn’t a lot of heat between the couple, but their growing fondness for one another is quite sweet.

The couple’s physical awkwardness relates to the film’s theme: you can’t really know a person until you spend time with them, especially when there is such pressure to be perfect. Social media accounts and dating profiles are heavily curated. When Koyal and Veer meet for the first time, it’s in front of their whole families, with everyone on their best behavior. It’s easy to hide your true self and all your flaws under those circumstances, but it’s hard to do it forever.

What Dhoom Dhaam lacks in sparks, it makes up for in laughs. Gautam Dhar and Gandhi are both very funny and make good use of a solid script by Aditya Dhar, Aarsh Vora, and Rishab Seth, who also directed the movie. The writing team has a terrific handle on context and continuity, mining them for comedy while throwing in some delightfully absurd moments. Quality subtitles ensure that none of the humor is lost in translation.

Sequences are tightly edited, and without traditional choreographed numbers, the story moves at a fast clip. This is a movie intent on not overstaying its welcome, and Seth certainly achieves that. Dhoom Dhaam is really enjoyable.

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Movie Review: The Mehta Boys (2025)

3 Stars (out of 4)

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Boman Irani makes his directorial debut with the heartfelt family drama The Mehta Boys. The story doesn’t quite support the moral conclusion the film reaches, but it’s still a meaningful movie.

Irani — who co-wrote the film with Birdman co-writer Alexander Dinelaris — stars as Shiv Mehta. At 71 years old and newly widowed, he faces the prospect of leaving his childhood home and moving in with his daughter Anu (Puja Sarup) in Tampa, Florida. Shiv’s not an easygoing guy during the best of circumstances, but these are a lot of big changes all at once.

Flight issues in Mumbai force Anu to fly home alone and for Shiv to spend a couple of days bunking with his estranged son, Amay (Avinash Tiwary). Amay’s dilapidated apartment has a great view but plenty of leaks. Shiv can’t understand why Amay left home just to live in a rundown place, and he’s not shy of voicing that opinion.

Shiv’s unrelenting criticism has left Amay bereft of confidence, which affects him personally and professionally. He’s an architect at a prestigious firm, but he’s too timid to share his own opinions and designs. Even Amay’s boss is starting to wonder why they pay him.

This unplanned co-habitation brings out the worst in Amay and Shiv. Dad acts like a know-it-all, while son treats his father like he’s senile. Amay’s kind girlfriend Zara (Shreya Chaudhry) sees the dysfunctional dynamic first-hand and is not impressed.

The Mehta Boys does a lovely job depicting just how complicated the relationships between parents and their adult children can be, clouded as they are by entrenched habits and festering resentment. No one in the film is on their best behavior. While the characters are not exactly sympathetic, they are very relatable, and Irani and Tiwary capture that in their performances.

There’s a tendency in a lot of stories about this relationship dynamic that frame negative parenting tactics as inherently borne of love, and The Mehta Boys takes that approach as well. Based on what is shown in the film, I’m not sure that’s a fair conclusion to draw from Shiv’s constant doubting of Amay’s competence and judgment. It looks more like ego and pride on Shiv’s part, mixed with his own insecurities. His “never apologize” ethos doesn’t leave much room for caring about other’s feelings.

It’s okay to admit that sometimes parents raise their kids by instincts learned in their own dysfunctional homes, or taught by parents living under very different financial circumstances. Add to that the inflexibility of thought that sometimes comes with age, and you wind up with hurtful behaviors done habitually, without any real thought behind them at all.

In those circumstances, maybe the lesson Amay needs to learn is that his Shiv’s distrust is not based on an accurate assessment of Amay’s abilities. He’s put in the work to become a good architect at a firm that acknowledges his skills. If his dad doesn’t get that, that’s on him.

I’m forgiving of the hopeful conclusion Irani and Dinelaris reach in The Mehta Boys if only because we all want to believe it’s true, especially audiences looking for something uplifting. Irani is a good filmmaker, so here’s hoping he’s got more stories in him.

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Movie Review: Anuja (2024)

3 Stars (out of 4)

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Two sisters in Delhi face a difficult choice when one of them is offered a potential way out of poverty. Filmmaker Adam J. Graves uses Anuja‘s brief 22-minute runtime to make a meaningful critique of child labor in this Oscar-nominated short drama film.

9-year-old Anuja is played by Sajda Pathan, who herself lives in a Delhi shelter for children. Anuja and her older sister Palak (Ananya Shanbhag) are orphans who work 14-hour days in a garment factory.

Word of Anuja’s illegal employment has gotten around, as has her natural talent for mathematics. A teacher named Mishra (Gulshan Walia) comes to the factory to invite her to take a placement test for a boarding school, though she’ll have to find 400 rupees to pay for it. But the factory’s owner Verma (Nagesh Bhonsle) isn’t keen on letting one of his employees get away.

The invitation presents a real dilemma for the girls. Palak’s old enough to accept the limits of her own prospects and to understand that this may be her sister’s one chance at a better life. But they are the only family each other have, and it’s not easy to give that up for an uncertain future. Anuja doesn’t even know what a boarding school is, so why would she want to leave her sister to go to one?

Both Pathan and Shanbhag do a really nice job playing the sisters, who are hard not to care about. Much of the film’s short runtime is dedicated to showing their fondness for one another, as well as their protective instincts. Though it makes logical sense for Anuja to pursue her education, the emotional cost for both sisters is very clear.

The most effective moment in Graves’ narrative — which is produced by a host of industry notables including Mindy Kaling, Priyanka Chopra Jonas, and Oscar winner Guneet Monga Kapoor — is a fleeting one. As Anuja runs through a fancy clothing store fleeing its security guard, she spots a mannequin dressed in one of the garments she sewed. It’s a powerful condemnation of the exploitation underlying the fashion industry, and a it’s a reminder for the audience to become more informed consumers. Ignorance of the plight of workers is no excuse for supporting child labor.

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Movie Review: I Want to Talk (2024)

2.5 Stars (out of 4)

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Director Shoojit Sircar’s drama I Want to Talk features a career-defining performance by Abhishek Bachchan, but the screenplay by Ritesh Shah feels incomplete.

The film is based on Arjun Sen’s autobiographical book Raising a Father, though it comes with the standard opening note that it isn’t a strict retelling. Bachchan plays Arjun, a ruthless marketing executive living in southern California. He’s in the middle of a divorce from his wife Indrani, with whom he shares an elementary-school-aged daughter named Reya (Pearle Dey).

A coughing fit during a business presentation sends Arjun to the hospital, where it’s determined that he has laryngeal cancer. He leaves in a fog of denial, but a follow-up visit finds cancer cells in his colon as well. Multiple surgeries leave him unable to work, costing him his job, right as his divorce settlement costs him his house. He keeps his Cadillac but downsizes to rental home that has seen better days.

Throughout his medical trials, Arjun tries to shield Reya from the seriousness of his condition while maintaining a busy custody schedule of Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other weekend. This is where the screenplay struggles. According to the movie, Arjun is able to manage all of his appointments and recovery time without ever talking to his ex-wife about Reya. We only ever see Indrani once during a meeting with their lawyers. From a purely logistical standpoint this would be impossible, and that goes double for trying to explain to a kid who isn’t even ten why daddy can’t lift her up after surgery or why he’s so sleepy all the time.

With Arjun’s ex-wife being a void in the narrative, he’s forced to find support in other places. That includes his grumpy handyman Johny, played by Johny Lever in a role that shows he’s a more talented actor than we get to see in the over-the-top comic roles he typically plays. There’s also Arjun’s dismissive surgeon Dr. Deb (Jayant Kripalani), who comes to tolerate Arjun’s pestering.

Best of all is Dr. Deb’s nurse, Nancy (Kristin Goddard). She sympathetic but won’t let Arjun off the hook when he gets down on himself. Goddard delivers a short monologue that is equal parts heartfelt and hilarious. It’s a highlight of the film.

Another highlight is the evocative score by George Joseph & Koyna. It’s sparingly used but effective. Sircar relies a lot on ambient sounds and visuals of the stark, mountainous landscape near California’s Lake Hemet to set the scene.

Although the world of I Want to Talk is atmospheric, it doesn’t feel full enough. The plot jumps forward several years, and a lot of information about how Arjun manages his life is lost in the transition. We see little of the growth in Arjun’s relationships with those closest to him; they are suddenly friends instead of adversaries. Even important characters feel like they blink out of existence until Arjun needs their help.

The exception is Reya, who is played as a teenager by capable debutant Ahliya Bamroo. Sircar gives Reya enough scenes to establish her as her own person within Arjun’s story. She’s a kid finding herself while navigating a tricky relationship with her father, one further complicated by by his medical problems. But again, her continuing ignorance about his condition after more than a dozen surgeries beggars belief.

All that said, this is Abhishek Bachchan’s movie, and he carries the weight of it gracefully. It’s a performance that is challenging not just emotionally but physically. His movements are slow and pained, evoking memories of another character burdened by frailty in a Shoojit Sircar movie: Abhishek’s father Amitabh Bachchan in Piku. Sircar shows great compassion for people with physical challenges in the way he directs his actors, and both Bachchans interpreted their characters beautifully.

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Movie Review: Hisaab Barabar (2025)

1.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Hisaab Barabar on ZEE5

Rarely do you find a feature film where one of the complaints is: “I wish there was more math.” Hisaab Barabar (“Settle Accounts“) has some arithmetic highlights in an otherwise corny social issue drama.

R. Madhavan stars as Radhe Mohan Sharma, an upstanding railway ticket collector. He stopped studying accounting when his father died, and then took over Dad’s job to support the family. He gets some small satisfaction teaching basic math to the vendors on the train platform.

While checking his statement from Do Bank, Radhe notices his account is short 27.5 rupees (about $0.30). The amount isn’t significant, but he demands a correction from the bank on principle. As he explains in one of his impromptu platform tutorials, 27.5 multiplied by millions is substantial.

Radhe becomes suspicious when a passenger leaves his Do Bank statement on the train, and a similarly minuscule amount is missing. One of his coworker’s accounts is also short. Radhe realizes he may have uncovered a huge conspiracy.

The highlight of the movie, oddly enough, is a scene in a mall food court where Radhe explains to his co-workers how banks calculate interest based on an account’s current balance and why the shortfall matters. He writes his equations on a window with (hopefully!) erasable marker. It’s really interesting, and the film does a fine job making the accounting understandable.

The audience already knows Radhe is right, because the movie’s opening scene confirms it. At a tacky party with horrible dancing, Do Bank owner Micky Mehta (Neil Nitin Mukesh) openly discusses amassing a fortune from his customers one stray rupee at a time with a corrupt government official named Dayal (Manu Rishi). Mehta keeps his piles of pilfered bills in a warehouse freezer, hidden from regulatory oversight.

After Radhe files a formal complaint with the police department, writer-director Ashwni Dhir over-complicates the story. Mehta uses his connections to muddle the investigation and harass Radhe and his young son Manu (Shaunak Duggal). The police officer assigned to investigate the complaint happens to be Radhe’s new girlfriend Poonam (Kirti Kulhari), whom he apparently didn’t know was a cop. For some reason, Poonam doesn’t recuse herself from the case, even when she’s pressured to charge Radhe himself with some kind of crime. Could she be holding a fifteen-year-old grudge because she and Radhe were paired by a matchmaker, but he rejected her because her math grades weren’t good enough (another thing Radhe has no idea about)?

The tone of Hisaab Barabar vacillates between goofy and sinister. A slapstick brawl between bank employees exists alongside Poonam’s superior officer warning her to do what he says, lest something nasty happen to her when she takes the train alone at night.

Ultimately, the balance tilts toward goofiness, but I don’t think that was intentional. It’s all due to Neil Nitin Mukesh giving the most absurd performance of his career as the scheming bank owner. He sings the Do Bank jingle before having his goons nab Manu, and he dances awkwardly with his housekeepers in his mansion. Every line is over-emoted. Mehta’s style and mannerisms are like an out-of-touch boomer’s idea of cool, but Mukesh is only 43.

Mukesh isn’t the only one off his game. Madhavan’s performance as Radhe is mostly flat, but he has this weird half-collapsing, half-retching reaction to a surprising death that is so bizarre as to be laugh-out-loud funny. Kulhari is mostly normal as Poonam, but her character doesn’t make much sense.

Hisaab Barabar‘s point about not letting seemingly small amounts of corruption slide is nuanced and important, but the drama around it just doesn’t add up.

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Movie Review: Jigra (2024)

3.5 Stars (out of 4)

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Filmmaker Vasan Bala’s Jigra (“Courage“) shows the lengths to which a protective older sister will go to save her younger brother. Alia Bhatt once again commands the screen, turning in a complex, emotional performance in this tense prison-break drama.

Bhatt plays Satya, big sister to promising software engineer Ankur (Vedang Raina). When they were still in elementary school, the kids witnessed their father’s suicide. Satya has shielded Ankur from harm ever since. They were raised by a wealthy, distant relative, Mr. Mehtani (Akashdeep Sabir), whose son Kabir (Aditya Nanda) is best friends with Ankur.

While Ankur believes they are one big family, Satya knows the truth. She manages the Mehtani’s household staff, only changing out of her uniform for public events where the appearance of familial unity matters. The Mehtani’s expect reimbursement for her care, and soon they’ll expect the same from Ankur.

Ankur and Kabir ask Mr. Mehtani to help them find an investor for software Ankur built. This project is an ideal opportunity for Kabir to straighten his life out following multiple drug arrests. Mehtani sends the guys to meet a colleague in the fictional island nation of Hanshi Dao, off the coast of Malaysia.

The guys secure the funding and celebrate. Kabir gets caught with drugs, and both are arrested. Drug possession is a capital offense in Hanshi Dao — a fact the Mehtani family lawyer Jaswant (Harssh A. Singh) knows but the guys don’t. Jaswant tricks Ankur into taking the fall for Kabir. When Ankur is sentenced to death, Satya burns bridges with the Mehtanis and heads to Hanshi Dao to free her brother.

Without the expectation of repayment and the double-edged sword of family ties, Satya is finally able to find allies who share a mutual interest. Ex-gangster Bhatia (Manoj Pahwa) wants to get his son Tony (Yuvraj Vijjan) off of death row. Muthu (Rahul Ravindran) quit the Hanshi Dao police force after he accidentally sent an innocent man — Chandan (Dheer Hira) — to prison. With no legal recourse left, the three unlikely allies use their skills and connections to formulate an audacious escape plan.

Though Satya is the main character, the story gives us a glimpse into Ankur’s life in jail, too. His betrayal by the Mehtanis and his painful adjustment to life under sadistic warden Hansraj Landa (Vivek Gomber) shake him out of his prolonged adolescence. He finally becomes a man, one with only a few months to live.

With a big star like Bhatt on board, Bala — who co-wrote Jigra with Debashish Irengbam — takes a slightly more conventional filmmaking approach than with his previous features Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota and Monica, O My Darling. This mostly comes in the form of flashbacks to Satya and Ankur as little kids, meant to reinforce the depth of the siblings’ bond (akin to how many mainstream Hindi films about romantic couples insist on flashing back to how the couple first fell in love). The flashbacks aren’t necessary and slow down the pace of the film. Satya’s love for Ankur is active — we can already feel it in everything she does.

One of Bala’s superpowers is staging his heroines in fight scenes. Too often, “strong” female characters in films have some sort of elite training or physical prowess — qualities that allow them to fight like men, essentially. Bala’s leading ladies — Satya in Jigra, Supri in Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota, and Monica in Monica, O My Darling — aren’t like that. They are scrappy, ordinary women who prevail over their male adversaries through sheer determination (though Supri’s black belt helps). Satya’s unpolished fight scenes are all the more riveting because of what they say about her personality. She won’t let anything get in her way.

Through her depth of talent, Bhatt conveys so many of the emotions roiling within Satya even when her expression is stone-faced. It’s a remarkable performance in a career full of remarkable performances.

Pahwa and Ravindran play perfectly off of Bhatt. Because of their performances and the stakes for their characters, Satya’s relationships with Bhatia and Muthu are probably the most emotionally impactful in the film. Few actors portray heartbreak as well as Manoj Pahwa.

In only his second feature role, Raina acquits himself very well as Ankur. He undergoes more of a character transformation than Satya does, while still needing her as much as he ever did. Raina also does a nice job singing the film’s title track.

Vasan Bala’s filmography is among the best among working directors, and Alia Bhatt is Hindi cinema’s top actress for a reason. Put them together, and you get something very special.

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