Posts Tagged ‘ Pritam ’

Jagga Jasoos

Jagga Jasoos
Release date: July 14, 2017
Directed by: Anurag Basu
Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Katrina Kaif, Saswata Chatterjee, Saurabh Shukla, Sayani Gupta

The audience is unkind, at times even heartless. They don’t care if your film took three years to make, or ten. To pass a nominal litmus test of viewer approval, Jagga Jasoos released this past Friday to not as much shows as you’d expect a potential blockbuster film to do. Perhaps, indicative of the approach of the film, where it greenlights itself straight into musical-mode.

Katrina Kaif, as Shruti, plays the narrator of the story and a journalist in Jagga’s tales of adventures. As she hosts a hall full of children, she sings and recites Jagga’s (Ranbir Kapoor) exploits, and the audience in the cinema hall is treated similarly. Concepts are broken down for the children and viewers to grasp them without letting their mind work or wander. “Is Jagga even real?”, you ask of yourself when Shruti breaks down his life in chapters from a comic anthology.

Right from the get-go, Jagga Jasoos confidently chronicles its protagonist’s journey, with small nods to Harry Potter, as an orphaned, bespectacled Jagga sleeps under a staircase. He doesn’t have a broom tuck between his legs to circumvent the world, but he does have an electric scooter which he rides adeptly on. Little Jagga is too shy to speak, because he stutters. Ironically, he lives in a hospital and is never treated for his speech impediment by the staff who seems to be in love with him, so much so that they let him live on their property ever since the day he was born.

Tooti Footi (Saswata Chatterjee) introduces Jagga to the magical world of singing his words, with rhyme and verse at his disposal, at the behest of some simply brilliant writing. Childhood expositions aren’t supposed to mean much in Bollywood, but this one makes you tear up within the first 30 minutes of the film as little Jagga sings ‘Jhooth, bas jhooth’ when Tooti Footi leaves him at a boarding school.

The overarching plots revolve around international conspiracies, localized militancy, and a boy’s quest to be reunited with his father. As Jagga sings, he becomes a much more self-assured adolescent knockoff of Tintin, reliving his favourite Feluda novels, with his schoolmates. Anurag Basu manages to create a universe that he so ably did in his last outing — Barfi! (2012), a world majorly bereft of texting, mobile phones and also refrains from any dosage of puns or lyrics, consciously written to deliver easy laughs or nudge-winks. With reams of paper that must have been penned while making the film, and I am very sure there must be reams, what the film lacks in a manufactured vibe of tautness, it makes up for in originality, quirk, and simply charming your frowns off with its unadulterated charm.

As the film devolves from an outright musical caper, to more of an action adventure in the post-intermission half, you are welcomed by an incredibly clever piece ‘Nimbu mirchi’ which captures the settling-in chatter of the theatre audiences perfectly, and calls us out for our indifference and irreverence for what goes around us in the real world and in a cinema hall, when we casually display indifference – ‘Humko us se kya?’ – at a blast in Syria, or another brutal gory assault in the city.

The lyrical storytelling reaches its ultimate peak for me, at a birthday party for a dead person, where the ensemble sings in unison, ‘Sab khaanaa kha ke, daru pee ke chale gaye’. And Ranbir captures the philosophy of life in as much singsong fashion.

Anurag makes compromises along the way, as his Jagga sings a little bit less with every passing minute in the “business end” of the things. Chase sequences, elaborate props start substituting moments of genius, to tell a story that goes far away from where it began. But it’s a grand adventure, a comic bestseller, all with meerkats, giraffes, zebras, leopards, fictional African tribes, yearly tips on growing up through VHS tapes by a father to his son, a travelling circus, secret agents, caricaturish comedy sequences and most importantly, conviction.

What makes Jagga Jasoos an experience I will cherish and remember forever are the witty idiosyncrasies, how disabilities are not pity-tear-jerkers, where a bumbling clumsy accomplice isn’t unwanted and most importantly the smile it plastered across my face with its pure passion and a will and heart that can’t and won’t cower, even in the face of real-world meta and in-film difficulties.

The almost three-hour-long runtime of the film benefits greatly from sincere performances from Kapoor, Chatterjee and Saurabh Shukla. But Miss Kaif is as much as part of this brave film as the others. In a lot of content that has been written about the film, she has been dismissed as a Xanax to Ranbir’s cocaine in questions like, “What would have become of the film with a more able actor in place of Katrina?”. In whatever capacity she was initially cast, it’s as much of her film, as it’s any of the other cast members’ film. In some great disservice to her character, there are random dialogue inserts with a dubbing artist’s voice mixed in with her own voice. These inserts are not some chaste Hindu/Urdu couplets, just some completely normal last-minute additions perhaps.

Senior Valecha (yes, my father) made a dad-joke, one that did not take much imagination to woefully rhyme “Jagga Jasoos” with “Hagaa Jasoos”, mentioning the declared hateful verdict of the film on Whatsapp forwards in uncle-groups. The audience is not kind, but Jagga Jasoos surely is. Just like an overwhelming Indian parent with no regard for their child’s privacy or rebellious streak, the film provides with incredible joy, wonder, food (for thought and boxes filled with cakes and treats) and setting us ambitious standards (to look forward to Hindi films of the future)

To borrow from the film, Jagga Jasoos is made from the right-half of the brain, the one which is a little crazy, magical and not necessarily logical.

My rating: **** (4 out of 5)

Dangal

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Dangal
Release date: December 23, 2016
Directed by: Nitesh Tiwari
Cast: Aamir Khan, Sakshi Tanwar, Zaira Wasim, Suhani Bhatnagar, Fatima Sana Shaikh, Sanya Malhotra, Rohit Shankarwar, Aparshakti Khurrana, Girish Kulkarni, Vivan Bhatena

Heroics of the Phogat Sisters, Yogeshwar Dutt and Sushil Kumar over the years, and the recent surge of Sakshi Malik at this year’s Summer Olympics have resuscitated life into the long-forsaken sport of amateur wrestling. To top it off, the only victors of any medals, or, any memorable performances of any kind at the said event were all by young women. Dipa Karmakar, PV Sindhu, and Malik, thrust into the collective pop-culture with immense glory.

For the second time in a single year, wrestling is bestowed upon attention that the sport has not seen in years of cinema, where an akhaadaa would only be used for comic relief or as a den for the brawny henchmen for the bad guys, at the most. The desi training grounds are treated with reverence and for what they are, strongholds of men who deem women entering the field as a potential sin that could land them in hell.

Mahavir Phogat (Aamir Khan) is a national wrestling champion who rues on missing out on winning a medal for his country on the international scale. Like many other athletes from the country, he suffices with a safe job to cater for his family, instead of persisting on with his passion for the sport. A son or two to fulfill his personal aspirations, is all he needs. But as fate would have it, his wife would birth four daughters, in the film’s most satirical sequences, where every member of the village has their own method on how to conceive a male child. The suggestions fail, and Mahavir’s dreams come crashing.

Until the oldest of the quartet, Geeta (Zaira Wasim) and the plucky Babita (Suhani Bhatnagar) beat up boys for bullying them. Mahavir does not reprimand his daughters, as his eyes widen in disbelief, and the realization sets in. All he wanted was gold for his nation on the big stage, and women can very well do that. The girls, first surprised at their father’s reaction, soon turn into soldiers for his marching orders. Borrowing their cousin’s trousers to turn them into the traditional knickers, so they can run at ease. The socks with their loosened elastic grip around the little girls’ feet. Knockoffs of branded polo shirts. The authenticity is pleasing. Mahavir’s wife’s outright refusal at allowing meat to be cooked in her kitchen. The film solidifies its strains through the many things that it gets right: the girls collectively revolting against their father, the young bride with a mournful deadpan on her face while the overgrown adults gush at the wedding, the veritable Haryanvi dialects down to the hilt.

The young girls blossom into women. From here on, the struggle for the international gold intensifies. Dangal, the film’s crowning jewels are the four young women and their casting, direction and the finer details to their costumes, cosmetic appearances and wrestling technicalities, providing greater depth to the film, much like the corner pockets of a pool table. What would a plain cue-game table surface be without the drop pockets? Aamir Khan, as the coach, father, and overwhelming patriarch of a slowly-progressing Haryanvi hamlet  is compelling, cruel and achingly wonderful. Be it the rotund paunch, the dusted kurtaa paijaamaa and somewhat glued gamchaa around his shoulders. A natural progression in the behavioural pattern of Mahavir Phogat, as he ages from the young office clerk to the father gracefully folding his hands at a grovelling wrestling roadshow organizer. The hothead in him, springing into action when the occasion requires.

Fatima Sana Shaikh as Geeta is tenacious, earnest and fresh. The obliging nods that Indians usually give off while obliging to their seniors, the dimpled gentle shy smile and the beautifully choreographed double-arm underhook and Fisherman suplexes, a complete wrestler. Sanya Malhotra as the slightly little more obedient younger Babita is equally intriguing to watch. The rigorous physical routines are captured to the last bit. The young Zaira and Suhani practice their bridging and hip tosses enthusiastically. Except for the final German suplex that looks a little off in slow-motion towards the climax, Kripa Shankar Bishnoi’s wrestling choreography is excellent. A special mention for Girish Kulkarni’s conniving coach act.

The picturization of the athletic events is decently notable. The presentation is a lot better than earlier sport films. Daler Mehndi, Raftaar, Jonita Gandhi and Sarwar Khan – Sartaz Khan Barna, Saddy Ahmad collaborate with Pritam to render a thumping soundtrack that colludes perfectly with the narrative. Though, what transcends the superb technical quality of the film, is the clear assertion of the film’s women as the film’s true deserving heroes. In a film universe, where young women are constantly commodified into mascots for product placements, Dangal creates role-models for little girls and boys to look up to. Thoroughly enjoyable, moving and powerful; this is undoubtedly one of the best films of this year.

My rating: ****1/2 (4.5 out of 5)

Befikre

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Befikre
Release date: December 9, 2016
Directed by: Aditya Chopra
Cast: Ranveer Singh, Vaani Kapoor, Akarsh Khurana, Ayesha Raza, Armaan Ralhan

Yashraj’s common tropes of using a European destination for chastising the underlying, now sexual, then romantic, experiments of the Indian protagonists; invoking elaborately choreographed dance-offs to ease out tensions in love stories, or making the lovers acknowledge their actual sentiments for each other; and clinging on to straws of traditionalism, while reaching out to the new, morally and culturally progressive; they all find a place in Befikre. In the middle of these cliff notes, there is some humor, much anguish, and an underhanded indie rom-com like “carefree” approach to deliver a film without a hokey antagonist.

The film opens with the much-talked Labon Ka Kaarobaar where innumerable hetero couples kiss, there’s diversity in the kissers’ colors, shapes, and sizes, but not in sexual orientations. Every thing is picture-perfect straight, and then Dharam (Ranveer Singh) lands in Paris, and his flatmates are two very attractive gay women. Dharam being the virile, sex-crazed lad, vividly imagines himself in a threesome with them, winking at the viewers and himself. Could this point to a desi-retelling of a forgotten American Pie sequel, or perhaps something more real that actually turns out an intriguing character study? Sadly, neither.

He gets out to ‘party’ on his first day itself. Even with his well-formed biceps, tailored denims that grip his butt perfectly, and a healthy hairline, he faces rejection. This scene was empowering to watch in particular. More like a soothing Aditya Chopra petting our heads in wistful consolation. Springs in Shyra (Vaani Kapoor), the local, who knows the bars and the city in-and-out. They hook-up over a “dare”, a plot device that’s conveniently brought up again and again to help the protagonists in making bad decisions and some memories for their characters.

Gradually, they decide to live-in together, and mutually pledge that they won’t become the conservative husband and wife, nor do things that conventional lovers do. It is this oath that keeps resurfacing whenever they are consumed with the thought of confronting their feelings for the other. It’s frustrating to watch them see past versions of their younger selves, popping up with a song and dance in French, and yet, commendable, at the commitment to the tomfoolery and the showmanship. If this film had fifteen more minutes of ditty-dancing, it’d qualify as a full-blown musical.

For the lack of any real friends, Dharam and Shyra confide in his professional, cough boring cough, comedy routine and her aloo paraanthe. There’s the usual aggrandizement of grandeur in the way of beach vacations, holiday sea cruises, cosmetic perfection, except for the little black bush of hair in Ranveer Singh’s armpits, leaving hardly any scope for any frame to appear slightly sad, or even melancholic. But can we really blame them for this plastic manufacturing?

Aditya Chopra serves us what he thinks we would like to dish up, at the fag end of the year, in the throes of soft kisses and extremely mellifluous music, a film that is not particularly hollow, just like the millennials that are his target audience and the film’s primary characters. If it weren’t for their superhuman dancing finesse, the baffling excesses, and that mess of a Priyadarshan film-like climax sequence, Befikre could have passed off as a decently watchable experience. A balance that Imtiaz Ali has mastered, Aditya Chopra flounders with this time around.

My rating: ** (2 out of 5)

Ae Dil Hai Mushkil

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Ae Dil Hai Mushkil
Release date: October 28, 2016
Directed by: Karan Johar
Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Anushka Sharma, Lisa Haydon, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, Imran Abbas, Fawad Khan

When he’s not making films, in recent years, Karan Johar maintains a certain visibility all around you throughout the year. Be it a dance reality show, a pan-India talent hunt, his own talk show, promoting others’ films on more reality shows and on social media. Even now, as I type this, there’s a marathon of reruns of his talk show’s last season to build up hype for the upcoming new season. The man is literally omnipresent, just like your Gods.

He’s gone on to point out the flaws in his earlier films, and in his last directorial outing as well. He’s also confessed to yanking out the last tear drop out of his viewers’ eyes with his films. In his first film, he fiddled with love and friendship, he placed them together when Rahul says, “Pyaar dosti hai” (Love is friendship) and ironically, casually goes on to dismiss his good friend’s advances for another girl he’s hardly as good of a friend with. In his second, the comparatively smaller set of main and ensemble cast and scale grew in multiples of tens and hundreds, and yet here, another Rahul dismisses a Naina who loves him. Going on to, ugh, ‘friend-zone’ her.

His cast grew even bigger in numbers with his high school musical, and he played around with similar themes. This time around, he has a very small set of characters. Ayan (Ranbir Kapoor) and Alizeh (Anushka Sharma) lay their eyes on each other in a nightclub in London, and proceed to make out, but it doesn’t quite work out and they end up spending the night traversing through different bars around the city and indulging in conversation about anything and everything in between. In an indie film-ish fashion, the film centers heavily around the two of them. They become a part of a complete song-and-dance number in a pub, and yet, go on to poke fun at how actors can dance on mountain tops in sub-zero temperatures. Mind, these are some of the film’s most enjoyable minutes.

Ayan develops feelings of love out of a rapidly growing friendship with Alizeh, but she insists that she values the friendship more than the ephemeral nature of a relationship based on physical attraction to him. She has a tattoo of an ex-boyfriend’s name on her wrist, and points to him as a weakness. She continues to associate a sense of vulnerability to the whole business of love. Things don’t work out how Ayan wants them to, and ends up blocking her on his phone for three months post her wedding.

All through the courtship, the conversations are laced with colloquialisms, informal, and refreshing, sometimes falling back on some cliched moments, but infused with character by their portrayals. The excessive Karan Johar self-referencing seems little too forced even when the protagonists claim to be big fans of Hindi films. Also, the little bit of background music created especially for Lisa Haydon’s character, reminds you of the whole “Miss Braganza” jingle from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. This isn’t pleasant nostalgia.

Soon, enters Saba (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan), an Urdu poetess who obviously mouths some heavy lines in the language. Her dynamic with Ayan is entirely different. She insists that they let the silences and their eyes do the talking. Alizeh wished on being her lover’s zaroorat (need) and not aadat (habit), Saba is quite the opposite, traditional relationships are passe for her. Both of these women are categorically different, and explore different sides of the same man. Alizeh recounts how she was dealt a child out of a troller, while Saba faced a different man. Their first, and only, interaction with each other, is subtle and dramatic at the same time.

The unending conflict of the film is unrequited love, and the complexities around it. A subject which may involve stalking, physical assault and maybe even an acid attack if the “lover” is too jilted (read as: stupid and destructive). Johar does away with the ugliness of it all, and rather focuses the gaze of the camera on the glossy details. The principal characters are also noticeably self-aware, and even self-deprecating. When Alizeh asks Ayan what kind of rich he is, Johar makes him say that he’s outrageously rich. Saba is nonchalantly accepting of the criticism that her literary works are handed out. Alizeh dismissively shuts off Ayan every time he goes over the top, very cute!

The ladies are interestingly written, even though I can’t recall what Anushka Sharma’s profession is in the film. Right from her arrival, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan holds you by the collar, and playfully fidgets with your shirt buttons, until you sweat bullets and run out of tissues. On the other hand, Ranbir Kapoor is doing the whole man-child shtick for the fourth time in as many years. He acts well, and is probably even the best at being the overgrown version of an irritating teenager. The film is unapologetically glamorous; reflecting Johar’s self-confessed affection for showing good looking people dressed in designer clothes, and still makes them appear empathetic.

Ae Dil Hai Mushkil doesn’t yank out your soul. At the best, it warrants not more than three cries, and that count doesn’t include the climax of the film, at all. AT ALL. With only one proper choreographed dance routine for the stellar soundtrack, the run time of the film remains well-paced for two thirds of the film.

After 155 minutes in the cinema hall, Karan Johar doesn’t leave you with a moral commentary on Indian familial values, or a grim tale of unrequited love. Instead, he’s delivered an enjoyable film with an underbaked final act that leaves you entertained, even though slightly shorthanded. It’s official, KJo is drifting away from his usual style and it’s gonna take him and us both some time to deal with this. ADHM still has the magical mix of his trademark storytelling with conviction combined with magical music going for it.

My rating: *** (3 out of 5)

Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani

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Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani
Release date: May 31, 2013
Directed by: Ayan Mukherji
Cast: Deepika Padukone, Ranbir Kapoor, Kalki Koechlin, Dolly Ahluwalia, Aditya Roy Kapur, Kunaal Roy Kapur, Evelyn Sharma, Poorna Jagannathan, Faarooq Shaikh, Tanvi Azmi

A romcom about four youngsters transcending mountains, weddings and lavish costumes is what Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani appears to be from the outside. And that’s what it pretty much is.

Bunny/Kabir Thapad (Ranbir Kapoor) wants to be a globetrotter, while his friends: Aditi (Kalki Koechlin) and Avi (Aditya Roy Kapur) don’t have a set goal except for livin’ it up. On a chance meeting with the vagrantish Aditi, Naina (Deepika Padukone) who is an eternal nerd realizes what she’s been missing out on. She joins them on a trek to Manali and tries to fit in with the rambunctious trio.

And as normal people with normal hormones, there’s an attraction between the characters here as well. Only they are lopsided. Bunny decides to take a major step towards fulfilling his dreams and moves out for further studies. How all of them change and if they can reconnect after a period of eight years form the remaining tale.

The writers aim to accomplish quite a few stories here, as it always is with films with such number of leading characters. Bunny’s non-conformance to a regular lifestyle, Aditi’s suppressed feelings and her subsequent transformation, Avi’s refusal to accept his old friend, and Naina’s need to enjoy the smaller joys of life. The film’s pace is indulgent and perhaps dampening to its mood.

Ranbir and Kalki are in fine form, except for her jarred introduction. Even the smaller roles, like that of Kunaal Roy Kapur as the bumbling Taran and Faarooq Shaikh as Bunny’s father add to the narrative. Special mention for Deepika Padukone who simply looks, walks and moves like a cliche million bucks. I couldn’t comprehend for a few hours if I could ever complete this review without getting an anxiety attack while reconstructing her scenes and songs. Oh yes, the songs! They are aplenty and baffling given their length. Albeit colorful and entertaining, the dance numbers’ presence in such a capacity cannot be justified.

Also all of  Ranbir’s scenes have a ‘grand introductory scene’ like feel to them. Maybe not all of them, but a lot of them. The lines are witty and liberally funny. Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani is shot beautifully, it lacks that finish which would have made it a more complete experience. I am not saying YJHD is not enjoyable and fun, it’s just that it could have been *that* bit better.

My rating: *** (3 out of 5 stars)

P.S. Evelyn Sharma’s unabashed hotness.
P.P.S. The P.S. deserves to be in this review goddammit!

Race 2

Race 2 is awful.
Race 2
Release date: January 25, 2012
Directed by: Abbas-Mustan
Cast: Saif Ali Khan, John Abraham, Deepika Padukone, Jacqueline Fernandez, Anil Kapoor, Ameesha Patel

While the filmmakers unite for more creative power and liberalization against the tyrannical censor boards and innumerable religious/ethnic groups, Race 2 comes as a breath of fresh, sorry, stale air. Race 2 should have been bludgeoned by the censor board for its bordering obscene (and cliche) lines and by the other social watchdogs to prevent the masses from being subjected to continuous nonsensical  exhibition of in-your-face trash.

Rather than specifying the non-existent ‘plot’ and the other painful details I’ll just tell you why Race 2 should be abhorred and detested as a piece of cinema, writing, acting, skill or any goddamn thing.

Race 2 sucks at all levels because:

  • A sharpshooter has a sniper rifle and he doesn’t shoot his target (Bipasha Basu) instead he shoots a bullet on the petrol tank lid. Lamborghini explosion, you see?
  • Saif Ali Khan’s character Ranveer Singh has blonde highlights and long hair in his entry scene and one song, while he continues to have completely black hair gelled back for the rest of the film.
  • Everyone looks like a million bucks. That’s not a bad thing, given that million bucks is the actual budget of each character’s costumes and appearance.
  • The usual complaint of “women being reduced to objects” doesn’t stand true, because every actor is objectified and specifically ordered to not act.
  • Anil Kapoor’s character Robert D’Costa answers Ameesha Patel’s “Tum ladki mein sabse pehle kya dekhti ho?” with a “Wo depened karta hai ladki aa rahi hai ya ja rahi hai.” Lifted. Boring. Stupid. Ancient.
  • The ladies have been asked to maximize on their assets. That means, each woman has her own USP body part. For example, Deepika Padukone’s legs in dresses with long cuts, Jacqueline Fernandez’s abs and butt and Ameesha’s breasts. Not that I am complaining, but after a point even that gets monotonous.
  • The dialogue is as predictable as a, I’m falling short of comparisons here. It’s hauntingly reminding of the 80’s vague lines. With bits of English peppered, it still remains drab and seriously underwhelming.
  • A ‘street fighter’ Armaan Malik (John Abraham) becomes a billionaire out of nowhere. BILLIONS FROM NOWHERE. And his step-sister – what would a Race film be without foster siblings who double-cross each other – Elena (Deepika Padukone) claims she’s helped him get those billions.
  • The twists are just like a children’s fantasy game, where everyone gains an upperhand continuously by claiming their weapon is more powerful. There’ an Audi with parachutes installed in it, more parachutes, CCTV footage, and at the end, ‘tere glaas mein zeher (poison) mila tha’.
  • And to top it all, last but not the least, a locker’s password at the St. Turin’s Church is ‘OBEYGOD’. Obey God. Are the nuns allowed to have a Facebook account?

But credit must be given where it’s due. Race 2 brilliantly carries forward the legacy of Race 1 with its incredibly stupendous amount of belief in the directors’ conviction to deliver a preposterous lump of shit. Race 2 also joins an elite class of worst films of all times.

My rating: * (1 out of 5)

Barfi!


Barfi
Release Date: September 14, 2012
Directed by: Anurag Basu
Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Priyanka Chopra, Ileana D’cruz, Saurabh Shukla, Ashish Vidyarthi

Amateurish mime, fun rides along the inner scenic regions of Darjeeling and tests of friendship are what Barfi! is laced with. The film moves from Darjeeling to mainstream Kolkata (Calcutta) in the ’70s, thereby creating a young independent India developing in its technology and outlook. But hey, this isn’t a lesson in history, Barfi! is an amalgamation of simple emotions contrived in a heartwarming motion picture.

Murphy or Barfi (Ranbir Kapoor) as he is fondly referred to, is a deaf-mute youngster who never falls short of ways to make his charm work. Murphy shares a pure connection with his father Rajbahadur which is nothing but purely frolic. Barfi asks his dad to stop guzzling on a bottle of Old Monk Rum and then sneaks the same bottle into his bed. He also has a unique way of ascertaining his friends’ loyalty towards him.

Shruti (Ileana D’Cruz) is an engaged young woman,  about to be married in the next three months but yet to grasp the arrival of a man in her life. In a fun encounter, she gets acquainted with Barfi and soon a friendship develops between the two. The pair of friends go on their own small adventures where Shruti tries to make the most of her single days by making late-night escapes to gallop on a horse. The loss for words between them never makes a short for feelings. But the inevitable fate doesn’t change its track and soon things go on their own predetermined paths.

Jhilmil (Priyanka Chopra) is the third generation offset of the affluent Chatterji household. She struggles with autism and that’s reason enough for her negligent wealth-drunk parents to avoid her. Jhilmil is admitted to a house for the disabled where she finds some real affection and care even though at a price. Circumstances force some things on all of our protagonists and now Jhilmil is with Barfi.

Barfi! (Here, the film) is what happens in the sub-plots and the overlaying sidetracks. There are so many powerful moments with a varied range of emotions casting their impact simultaneously that you simply cannot hold your tears or your smile. Barfi! plays on the disabilities of its main characters and concentrates on their special abilities, you almost never care about the dialogues.

The story shows how everyone deserves a second chance and how ‘unconditional’ love should be actually unconditional and oblivious of the repercussions: economic, social or whatsoever. Already much has been said about Barfi!’s melodious soundtrack, but the accordion-violin band players in the narrative of the film along with the silent comic scenes pay a tribute to Charlie Chaplin. For the casual viewer, the length of the film might prove to be a bit long. But if you live with the characters, you’ll never want to leave your seat.

Barfi! adds another accolade in Anurag Basu’s list and heavily decorating Ranbir, Priyanka and Ileana’s acting credentials. Barfi! is a must watch for its rich tribute to film making and textured simple human emotions.

My rating: **** (4 out of 5)

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