abhigyansarmah

Court is a powerful reminder that great cinema doesn't need star power to leave an impact. The film relies entirely on its solid screenplay, restrained yet compelling direction, and performances so natural they feel lived-in rather than acted. It unfolds with quiet precision, drawing you into the mundane yet deeply unsettling realities of the legal system. The attention to detail is remarkable - nothing is flashy, yet everything has meaning. I walked in with no expectations and walked out unexpectedly moved. This is storytelling at its most honest and unfiltered - minimal in style, but rich in substance.

Joe opens with a beautiful sense of purpose - the first half is heartfelt and meticulously crafted, layered with intricate details that stir emotion and evoke a quiet romance. It draws you in gently, making you care, reflect, and connect. It's the kind of storytelling that lingers. Easily an 8/10 experience.

But then the second half arrives - and the magic fades. The narrative loses its grip, turning into a loosely held sequence of scenes that feel rushed, unfocused, and emotionally hollow. It comes across as a haphazard filler rather than a meaningful continuation. What once promised depth and resonance flattens into a forgettable 3/10 stretch.

Joe could have been something extraordinary. Instead, it leaves you wondering how a film that started so strong lost its way so completely.

To truly grasp this biopic on Munin Barua, one must already be deeply familiar with the people and moments that shaped his cinematic journey. The film offers no character introductions or context, making it confusing for anyone unfamiliar with his life or works. What unfolds on screen feels more like a patchwork of loosely connected vignettes, stitched together without rhythm or clarity. The narrative structure is haphazard, and the storytelling suffers from poor pacing and arrangement.

While the film rides high on Assamese sentiment, it falls short in terms of cinematic substance. Much of the attention it has received seems driven more by regional pride and nostalgia than by its own merit. Personally, I watched it out of my affection for Munin Barua's classics like Hiya Diya Niya, Nayak, and Bidhata, as well as for the timeless music of Zubeen Garg during that era.