arupmandal1983

Photographs bring memories, ghosts of living bodies. It contains a moment but never perpetrates. One can print in gloss or matt, posses the negatives, frame in wood or gold but the construct remains same, elusive from the moment of capture. It does not have a past or a future but stays timeless and as Rafi says the sunlight and the wind gets arrested inside. Ritesh Batra's second Indian film has similar radiance and breath captured all along. It is a film about two characters, both creatures of routine. Rafi is a migrant from UP (Nawazuddin Siddiqui with familiar mannerism and yet adding an unique layer to the character which differentiate this performance from the migrant disapproving Thackarey he plays in the same year) fighting for a place under Mumbai sun. Miloni (a superb Sanya Malhotra in her career best performance) is a CA student boxed in a world of surrender. A passing comment suggests that her artistic vibes were squeezed early in life under the pretext of studies.Today she is a topper exhibit on giant billboards across the city with clipart crown on her head as bland and sanitised as her protected existence. The two engage in an unexpected indulgence as if exploring their own existence in embracing the difference in each other's class, religion and living. Miloni is thrilled at her photograph taken by Rafi, one in which she looks prettier and happier. In a sudden burst of impulse she narrates her fictional parents to die under a Masjid collapse with a face streak of smile on her face (maybe the only time in the film). Rafi on the other hand has more reasons to bring out the quirky smile supposedly inherited from her grandfather. This is a film about music or rather melody. Rafi names the stranger in the photograph as Noorie, inspired by the passing tune reaching his slum. The same Noorie (Miloni) looks back at him from the moving taxi and Md.Rafi's eternal voice comes live with "Tumne mujhe dekha ho kar meherbaan" from "Teesri Manzil". However, more than these underlined sparks its the unhurried rhythm and passing vocals throughout the film that fills all your senses and not just the ears. But above anything else this is a film about Mumbai. Be the tourist hunting photographers or the trespassing hawkers, be the rat infested single-screens or the kaali peelis on the road, be the kulfis on the streets or the shutdown Campa Cola factories, this film is a tribute to Mumbai at its vibrant best.This is the very vibrancy that Miloni discovers only after he meets Rafi and Rafi can finally enjoy after his encounter with Miloni. This is the city which never sleeps with ghosts from old photographs roaming around at night in agreeable coexistence with the drained living bodies. This is a film about coexistence, intentionally shying off from any conflict. Be in Miloni's repressed protests or Rafi's muted emotions this a film about silence. Not all protests need to be aggressive, not all emotions to be expressed in vocal. This is a film about not being able cry and growing a tumour instead. An ode to a city and its dying romance and its undying cinema.

"Nirbaak" is not a mere film, its a medicine for cinephiles. Its a film which makes one understand why good is good and why bad is bad. A film you can watch after attending a film festival instantly enabling you to adjust to the regular popular movies. There's bad movies, B-movies, poor movies and then there is "Nirbaak", a new reference for low in pretentious manufactured film-making. Anjan Dutta has pained as before with few of his songs, most of his directorials and all of his writings on films. But teamed with Srijit he achieves an almost insurmountable.This is a what Germany did to Brazil in last Worldcup, VVS did to Steve Waugh in the Kolkata Test match. Jissu and Sushmita did not seem to have any clue of what they are doing, as if preparing and working on scrips handed over on a day to day basis. Ritwick makes a mark even here only proving himself to be leftover saving grace in an industry which produces and celebrates "Nirbaak". The design in the start credits and the song in the end credits is where anything watchable in the movie is limited to. Srijit wanted to have a poetry up his sleeve...he does that by the way. The cacophonous "Mishor", self patting "Chotuskone" or dumb "Hemlock" all rephrases themselves into poetry in comparison.

Zed Plus by Pinjar director Dr.Chandraprakash Dwivedi is a contemporary Indian political satire much in the lines of Peepli Live. While the individual dig ins at the Indian society, media, economy and politics are far reaching, deeper and bolder but the overall lack of better editing and control over flow of events brings down the impact. Then again the efforts to put forward a conclusion/solution also hurts the sense of satire that was running well enough in the 1st half. While the last scene of Nattha working at the city construction site was the best part of Peepli Live and the associated irony of the situation, here the choice of honesty and self realization as retort does not work. But then the film definitely has its moments of brilliance. From the English affluent Samata Mukherjee to the Modi looking Manmohan speaking PM there are quite a few classy strokes. Adil Hussain and Khulbhusan Kharbanda both find themselves uncomfortable in the unknown territory of characterization but somehow pull through. K.K Raina being a far superior actor puts in a fine effort even if put into similar problems. Sanjay Mishra continues his golden form from Kick/Aankhon Dekhi and puts in another hilarious cameo very similar to the meaty role in "Phaas Gaya Obama". The three irritating numbers from Sukhwinder Singh (with Hrishita Bhaat dancing rising from the dead) where he puts in all to make comeback in a non-existent opportunity needed to be chopped off in the first place. The film do have its heart in the right place however an overtly-emotional approach and amateurish efforts mostly from the crew leaves you wanting.