Every year, for the last decade now, Bollywood churns out its share of gangster/underworld movies. Shootout At Wadala is this year’s start of the series. It gives an entertaining, albeit somewhat non convincing or forced convincing, take on the journey of the main protagonist, Manya Surve, played admirably by John Abraham. Entertaining is the key word here, cause although the movie starts with some notes on “based on actual events,” the actual unfolding does not seem to propound that assumption. It is the stylized 70’s once more, so even in a full pace gangster flick, there will be the mandatory item numbers, 3 in this case, mother son and lover emotional drama and of course the justification of “why I became what I became.”

These actually slow down the film and take it away from it main point, of depicting the rise of Manya, to become the dreaded gangster that his real life character, allegedly was.

However, watched from purely an entertainment perspective, the film does keep you on your seat and engaged.

Fine performances by Kangana and Manoj are complemented by able characterization and support from Ronit Roy and Anil Kapoor.  The narrative is engaging and the songs short, but many. Scenes tend to repeat when there was enough room and characters for fresh scenes/stories, but that apart the film does transport us back to the era when allegedly a marked change in the behaviour pattern of cops and robbers, was unfolding in Mumbai (then Bombay).

What definitely takes away from the film, are the whole justification scenes, whether it is about religion, beliefs and also characterization.

Watch if looking for pure entertainment.

Passionate love stories will never stop capturing the imaginations of Bollywood. If it isn’t re- inventing legendary romances, it is busy creating teeny bopper’s heart-warming trysts with love where the first brush with love becomes a blush that paints the entire life. The kind of love that is full of longing, pain and that wistful inseperability we all dream of. Aashiqui (1990) was one such teeny-bopper sob-love story that captured the hearts of an entire generation while making one-film wonder stars of its lead Rahul Roy and Anu Agarwal. It also gave us simplistic but immensely popular music that wrapped up yet elevated the earthy nature of the film.

Aashiqui-2, an extension of the brand, a habit with the Bhatt camps aims to take this legacy forward. So we have middle-class Arohi (Shraddha Kapoor) yearning to become a singer and a has-been star Rahul (Aditya Roy Kapoor) yearning for her to make it. He spots her singing in a bar and brings heaven and earth together to ensure she succeeds. In the process both fall in love but Rahul’s drinking habit and a waning career plays spoil-sport, not to mention his insistence on self-pity. Will their Aashiqui survive the test of time? This question tries hard to keep us hooked when everything from performances to story keeps falling lower.

The film begins on a nice note and carries it forward with care too. But that’s only till the first half an hour. For an almost 2 and half  hour film that is too little. There is pain in Aditya Roy Kapur’s eyes and innocence in Shraddha’s that hooks us to want to know the  passionate love story of these two. But a romance is not a detached concept to be savoured in isolation, it is an outcome of what the two people involved are like. The flakiest of love stories engages us with the characters first but here we have nothing to invest  ourselves in Rahul or Arohi for us to watch them or weep for them.

Also, the film seems to operate in a weird space, its reality being totally removed from anything we know. Spatially it is unrecognisable  as completely India or a foreign country. Culturally it is empty and morally it is so archaic even the 50’s films seem progressive in  comparison. The decision’s Rahul’s and Arohi’s characters take wouldn’t be difficult to digest or accept otherwise.

Otherwise, the film faithfully fits into the mass-produced films that regularly come out of Bhatt factory. Expansive houses that are  totally impersonal. Squeaky clean frames that aren’t beautiful. A breathless mix of drama and emotion handled with immaturity and actors that lower the performance bar. Aditya Roy Kapur fits the role of a drunk, angst driven, temperamental artist and holds enough emotion in his eyes to pass muster but fails miserably when it comes to emotional outbursts. Shraddha Kapoor looks pretty and dainty, sometimes a little too much and seems to do a decent job of her middle-class, love-lorn girl, until the love-lorn-ness becomes a one  note expression that does nothing for an otherwise insipid presence.

For a music-related film and a romance, Aashiqui-2 churns out the same template that every Vishesh films movie has. Bland, dull, and very commonplace, it does nothing to amp the emotional quotient or intensity of a film that is anyways a sinking ship.
FATEMA KAGALWALA

Set in the parallel world of witchcraft and wizardry, the film ‘EK Thi Daayan’ spins a yarn of magic, black, white and the conjuring type. Bobo, a successful conjurer par excellence (Emraan Hashmi) is a gifted magician since childhood and is living his chosen vocation with flair until his childhood demons catch up with him.

A long hypnotherapy session unveils a past where an unknown woman Diana (Konkana Sen Sharma) enters his life and grows to become his step-mom only, the episode only to end in the death of his little sister (Sara Arjun) and father (Pavan Malhotra). Diana disappears, but not before etching her memory on the 11 yr old Bobo’s psyche and a promise that she will return. A believer of witchcraft with more than just the innocence of a child, Bobo suspected her to be a witch and continues to believe so as he grows up. Twenty years later it looks like she may be back.

This is the unravelling that makes up all of second half. The entire first half is devoted to Bobo’s past and tryst with Diana and is an interesting and effective set-up, the choice as unconventional as the film in many ways. Huma Qureshi as Tamra, Bobo’s wife and Kalki Koechlin as Lisa, an ardent fan, take up centre stage and the plot thickens to an action-packed and turn-the-tables type of climax that suits the film’s overall ambience.

The film is coloured with a sombre mood resonating the inner doubts and the outer battles that cinematographer Saurabh Goswami seems to have created with a lot of care. It makes up a fine dark world, with its old buildings and shadows, but typically, the ambience is manipulated to suit a convenience than serve authenticity almost seeming fictionalised in more cases than one. However, the tight and engaging narrative coupled with some competent performances ensures that these holes do not become caters. Because the horror, or rather creepy, psychological terror that unfolds is on a far decent and self-respecting plain than most of Bollywood’s horror output.

Especially engaging is the first half, with youngsters Vishesh and Sara helping us remain invested in this play between science and belief, between the adult world’s rationality and a child’s seeming irrationality. The beauty of the film is that the parallel world seeps and merges into the real world with an unassuming alacrity and needs no extra props, of make-up, sets, clothes and such to establish its turf. What seems isn’t and what is isn’t apparent and although the film doesn’t bother to trail much on this duality, the suspense and interest it dredges up with this line of thought is engaging enough till the finishing line.

Along with a subtler expose of the nether-world also comes a rather played down version of reality without its attendant Bollywood-isms. Vishal Bhardwaj and Gulzar’s songs help keep the edge of difference in this not-so-conventional yet not very different film, especially Yaaram and ‘Kaali Kaali’ continue to haunt (pun unintended) much after the credits roll.

As unusual as the story is the film’s casting, pitting all sorts of talents together. All sparkle and shine competently, displaying debutante director Kannan Iyer’s hold over his subject and actors but Konkana Sen Sharma tends to glow a bit more, such is her innate talent. Emraan Hashmi, for whom the horror is no new territory once again proves a dependable lead, keeping the tension of his past haunting him and his belief in his version of reality in a tight balance. Huma Qureshi and Kalki perform with a casual flair, serving their characters completely while maintaining the ever-so-slight balance between truth and pretence.

There are several chinks in the film, a debutante’s touch as well, but there is meat in the craft and thought in the art enough to make a lasting impression. The denouement may seem conventional after a sizzling start but it isn’t out of place in a film where nothing is what it seems. Be it psychological horror or physical creeps, Ek thi Daayan serves both with a controlled hand and less emphasis on CG that makes it a remarkably strong-on-concept film easy to relish. Just that it may not be too suitable for children.

In the age of dumb comedies and South style masala remakes, comes a good old, hardcore action film with an equally traditional good-vs-evil, one-man army setup.

Commando Karnaveer Dogra (Vidyut Jamwal) is a dare-devil armyman deserted by the Indian Govt when caught by the Chinese for infiltration. The political system becomes his enemy no 1 but the true-blue defence force patriotism in him compels him to continue waging war against the evils inside the country. He finds his perfect anti-hero in an eye-ball-less demon in human form Ak-47 (Jaideep Ahlawat) who is a drug-dealing maniac that populated the silver screens in the 80’s. An added motive is in the form of Simrit (Pooja Chopra) who Commando saves from AK’s clutches and is now hooked to.

In a completely devil-may-care attitude, the action in the film takes precedence over everything. Of course, there are ‘respites’ in the form of a spunky, bubbly heroine chattering away as the hero continues to give sullen looks. There are item songs and other numbers to keep the musical element alive. There are jokes flowing around to keep the comedy included and there are platitudes to do with nationalism to invests a certain seriousness in the otherwise brawny film.

All this largely makes Commando an eye-candy, blood and gore film, the sort that draws the audience of video games like Mortal Kombat and Manhunt with glee. To its credit, there is a finesse in the action and a taut editing that keeps the mood racing thanks to South African action director Franz Sphilhaus and editor Amitabh Shukla. The abundant jungle sequences add a dash of danger and rawness reminding us of Arnie’s Commando but without its edginess.

What helps the film is the slick production values. Sejal Shah ensures the cinematography is clean, gorgeous and eye-catching and the song and dance numbers, even if useless to the narrative or overall experience aren’t tacky.

What could have otherwise become wannabe or style over substance is saved by Vidyut Jamwal’s cat-like ease and powerful moves. He looks, walks and acts the all-out action hero, helping us invest in his character and root for him, however lame his cause may seem to us. Ex-Ms India Pooja Chopra, (always primed and powdered even in the middle of a chase or forest) is saddled with a stereotyped chirpy, talkative role that is meant to endear her to us and she does the job with a distinct intelligence and brightness but we do sense that she is better than this and she may know that as well. Jaideep Ahlawat makes his over-the-top criminal lord digestible enough with a controlled menace and in a film that is brimming with everything to the extreme this becomes a boon.

A completely action-packed film, it lacks adventure or character but makes up for it in raw power and unrelenting force. For those looking for just that, it isn’t bad deal at all.

‘Yeh theatre hain, yahan drama nahi chalega,’ says the protagonist Ram (Ayushmann Khurana) to mopey Mandar. It is just one of those many ironies the sort-of-comedy-of errors film throws up, most turning into blind alleys.

Ram is a theatre actor (and from the way it looks, an affluent one!) playing the part of Ravan in a very successful show Ravanleela. He is apparently compelled by his habit of helping others and thus lands himself in a soup called Mandar Lele, when he saves him from suicide and takes it upon himself to reunite him with his lady love. Why, we have no clue. And upon that ‘why’ lies the crux of the film.

There seems to be no reason why Ram does everything, from jeopardizing his relationship to career to help a chap who won’t help himself, especially a complete stranger. He runs around looking for Nandini (Pooja Salvi) and after finding her, cooks up games fro her to break up with her current boyfriend only to land up in love with her himself and then wallow in self-pity. It all makes little sense, something the makers try hard to induce by juxtapositioning the story of Ramayana in this new age trio, a brave move if on may say, in these intolerant times.

There are lots of ticklish moments and laughs, especially the ones where the actor in Ram improvises lines and situations on the spur, bringing out the confident actor in Ayushmann Khurana brilliantly. But so loose is the plot and so full of holes and questions that no amount of tomfoolery or ‘nautanki’ as the film would have it, does any good. Songs are used thoughtlessly with the remix of the almost iconic ‘Dhak Dhak’ wasted away on a scene that didn’t need it. The quirky ‘Dil kit oh lag gayi’ is equally thrown away at a no-situation moment with Evelyn dancing listlessly.

The film doesn’t suffer from low production values for sure, the sets, costumes and presentation of the Ramayana with a glamorous though irreverent flair is imaginative and pleasing to the eye. What becomes extremely tacky is the performance of everyone barring Ayushmann and to an extent his producer, the superb Sanjeev Bhaat. Kunal Roy Kapur as the hopeless, self-pitying loser is one-note and walks around like a zombie, sulking child, investing no emotion or value in his character. The ladies are appalling misfits and even moreso acting abilities. Pooja Salvi as the lead is dull and uninspiring as a performer and completely wishy-washy as a character. Gaelyn Mendonca as Ram’s girlfriend shows spunk and confidence but lacks presence and lets down a decently meaty role. Evelyn Sharma as modern Sita is eye-candy at best with her Caucasian looks but is as cold as turkey.

As a film it isn’t dull, just way too meandering and full of forced drama because, well the title says so. You got the point, didn’t you?

There is something valiant about David Dhawan’s attempt to infuse his brand of ‘cool’ to Sai Paranjpe’s timeless classic ‘Chashm-e-baddoor’. David Dhawan’s comedies were never about class or subtlety but they always were unapologetic. His sense of dramedy and quick-footed gags coupled with an assured direction has made us gulp down some incredibly loud and lewd stuff and get entertained in the process despite ourselves.

In Chashme Baddoor, he re-interprets the story of three good-for-nothing friends and their ideas of love, friendship and betrayal in a cinematically tacky revision. The 80’s are swept away by the new millennium and gags have a funkier tone to them. The three friends Siddharth (Ali Zafar), Jai (Siddharth) and Omi (Divyendu Sharma) are roomies who live for free at their landlady Josephine’s (Lillette Dubey) place and eat at Joseph’s (Rishi Kapoor) restaurant (for free too). Enter Seema (Tapsee Pannu) in their lives and the topsy-turvy begins. Jai and Omi try to woo her first but fail and she falls for Siddharth instead arousing the jealousy of the two who then try to create obstacles in the path of the lovers. Meanwhile there is romance brewing between Joseph and Josephine too.

Story-wise, the film largely stays true to the original adapting situations for the new age. It turns the hugely entertaining character of Lallan Miya into the bubbly, bumbling one of Joseph. The timeless Chamko scene is re-enacted with Joseph and Josephine and so on. The changes have their own place in this freewheeling, slapdash comedy but the film has no resemblance to the original in terms of wit, heart or beauty.

The three leads are meant to play feckless, good-for-nothing boys with the sundry loudness and cackling that goes with the David Dhawan brand of comedy. Ali Zafar has a more toned down character among the three which he plays with his naturally slightly over-done style. Divyendu yet again shows the spark he showed in his debut and sleeper hit Pyaar Ka Punchnama but Siddharth looks extremely unsuitable for the completely over-the-top role he is saddled with. His antics are meant to be loud but he turns the act into a desperate attempt to entertain. Tapsee Pannu is no Deepti Naval and neither is meant to be, but she is no ‘girl-of-dreams’ either, rendering everything happening around her to woo her a little weird. She lacks a presence and distinct expressiveness, the latter present in Anupam Kher’s performance in abundance. He does his OTT template work just like Paresh Rawal does in every Priyadarshan film.

The film leaves nothing much to write home about or warrant a warm watch either except maybe the endearing characters of Joseph and Josephine played by two actors who can make the most outlandish seem plausible. Lillette Dubey and Rishi Kapoor are pleasant and quirky making us wish the entire movie was more like that too.

FATEMA KAGALWALA

With a grandiloquent poster of a macho Ajay Devgn taming a tiger, Sajid Khan proclaimed that the 80’s were back. For many of us who remember the dismal popular cinema of that era, this wasn’t a welcome idea. But we, of the 2010’s, are reliving a similar kind of 80’s in our own way and hence that proclamation didn’t feel too bizarre. After all, it’s just a sign of changing times. What’s that they say about history repeating itself again?

The post millennium Himmatwala is a rehash of the Jeetendra-Sridevi starrer (without credits) of the 80’s immersed in Sajid Khan style of humour and characteristic irreverence. Ravi (Ajay Devgn) comes back to his village from the city to avenge the shaming and ultimate death of his righteous father. The village, its villagers and the devil incarnate land-grabbing Sarpanch are a daft mockery of themselves and the original version. Ravi is a true-blue, macho man aka “himmatwala” – the brave one, and he sets out to avenge his father by taming tigers, the Sarpanch’s daughter and the Sarpanch himself.

True to the ethos of the 80’s there is a helpless mother to be taken care of and a vulnerable sister who shall be used as a pawn in the game to exploit the hero. Sexism was rampant in the raw, uber-violent all-male sensibility of the popular cinema of the 80’s and the new Himmatwala follows the same path without a batting an eye-lid. But even while it tries to invest its whacky humour on the proceedings unwittingly it reproduces the older one much more faithfully than it realizes, which for the film, isn’t a good thing at all.

The 80’s were an entire sensibility, a moral and social reality the society and people identified with. Sajid Khan recreates that entire sensibility for an audience that is alien to its morality. In the process he makes a mish-mash of corny humour, inane set pieces of violence and a loose plot that almost seems like it doesn’t know where it’s meant to go. In between he adds a matka-filled song, one that by now we’ve already seen spoofed twice before (The Dirty Picture and Aiyya). It is all full of energy and confidence but no personality. It feels loose and tacky and worse, not that entertaining either. Besides there is something embarrassing in watching grown-up men (Sajid Khan included) behave so singularly stupid.

A large part of the film’s tepid outcome is Ajay Devgn. This is no Singham which had a modicum of story, character motivations and emotional drama, but a part that is meant to fly mainly on macho-ism and suave style. Devgn has never been pure that, that is an unabashed Salman territory, and in Himmatwala he passes muster simply because others around him are simply not worth taking seriously. Tamannah, either coincidentally or by design recalls Sridevi in more ways than just styling and displays a fine panache for mindless masala. Mahesh Manjrekar seems to be enjoying himself as the loony Sarpanch and Paresh Rawal takes up Kader Khan’s mantle with laudable conviction. He mouths outlandish inanities with a funny wig and funnier voice that were Kader Khan staples right up to-the-camera one-liners. Shakti Kapoor is replaced by an incredibly infantile Adhyayan Suman and Zarina Wahab seems to have received some sort of 5-film deal from Bollywood for playing the poor mother part.

Himmatwala is good for that random mood for a stray laugh and silly spoof (one Psycho spoof is actually tops) but there is no nostalgia, tribute or sense behind all the noise that it makes.

FATEMA KAGALWALA

The world of sleep is said to be our conduit to the other world. It is also said to be our recharge button for this world. Our hyper energetic lives have left us with reduced capacity to sleep and there is a whole world of implications behind this fact.

Makarand Deshpande, a sort of maverick star in the Mumbai theatre circuit takes this modern-day malaise and creates a unique therapy as a cure. That is “Sona Spa”, a spa where you can outsource your sleep to sleep workers who will sleep for you. But the catch is they will dream for you too. No, there is no inception-like dream invasion here (though the film does flirt with the idea of dream-stealing) but an idiosyncratic tale which may be fascinating depending on several factors.

Based on his own play, the film banks on a unique theme and Deshpande mixes the outlandish with social realities in its several characters that seem as eccentric as the film is. For instance there is Naseeruddin Shah’s god-man-like Seattle arm and founder of the Spa (Seattle because insomnia is a big problem there). Then there is the sex worker-turned sleep worker Minakshi, played by the talented Nivedita Bhattacharya who mouths the ironies of our urbanized living with alacrity. There is the extremely benign spa-owner Indira Ma’m (Pooja Pradhan), so nice that we almost suspect the character. And there is a hint of a lesbian relationship between two sleep workers Ritu and Rucha from disparate financial classes played by Shruti Vyas and Ahana Kumar.

Each character becomes a symbol of an ‘issue’ or ‘message’ the film tries to tie into its already concept-heavy weave. The narrative is theatrical and symbolic, trying hard to poeticise its own themes and present a world of what-ifs from the one of what-is. It uses its actors, all from the theatre background well but there remains a certain dramatic and stagey-ness to the entire proceedings that do not allow us to take anything seriously.

There is a lot of eccentricity weaving in and out, most of which is intriguing but much is mere mere oddball turn of the quirky mind. It can grate and more often, with the multiple characters and each with a bizarre quirk, it does. It becomes a question of one theme too many and one character too many and ultimately, despite that, the burden of remaining relevant terminally bogs down an otherwise interesting concept. And sadly, no amount of Naseerrudin Shah cameos can make a difference to a scenario like that.

DIRECTOR – Priyadarshan

WRITER – Mushtaq Shiekh (Screenplay), Samuthirakani (Story)

CAST – Jackky Bhagnani, Amitosh Nagpal, Vijay Verma, Priya Anand

MUSIC – Sajid-Wajid, Sundar C Babu

Priyadarshan’s films are a world of their own. Like Prakash Jha and Madhur Bhandarkar, his movies too have a stamp that over the years has become a lifeless template, a formula of his own making, which worked for a while but then became completely removed from a sensibility or soul.

His latest film is a remake of the Tamil film ‘Naadodigal’, already remade in several languages and much well-received. Rangrezz is also a desperate attempt at setting off the sagging career of Jackky Bhagnani. Maybe that is why tried and tested territories and old-world values and violence come in so handy.

Rishi Deshpande (Jackky Bhagnani), the literally central character is a lower middle class chap who is ever-ready to lay down his life for his friends. So when his childhood friend Joy (Raghav Chanana) attempts suicide over the matter of the heart, Rishi gangs up his group Vinu (Amitosh Nagpal) and Pakya (Vijay Verma) to abduct the girl. Much violence and sharp chases follow but all is not as it seems. Soon, Rishi’s own heart is on the line, taken over by the girl next door Megha (Priya Anand).

The film revolves around the big question of youth, “love” and throws in the obstacle of lust in its path to bring perspective. It isn’t really thought-provoking but is different to see a Hindi film attempt to draw the line and tell the difference. The three characters are bonded by undying friendship which is the absolute truth in their lives – a regular feature with youth of a certain age and type. However, the film isn’t a coming-of-age story and hence character arcs aren’t internal but external. It is all about what happens to the boys than how they deal with it and this leads to a loud yet lackluster

All this is done with the usual Priyadarshan flair of loud music, garish colours, break-neck chases and snappy editing. There is a grandness in Santosh Sivan’s cinematography that supplements the drama well. All focus is upon Rishi relegating everything and everyone to a mere set-up. The world of the film is coarse and rough, be it the Mumbai bits or the ones in the Northern hinterland. It takes the turn of a social drama, as most Priyadarshan films are wont to do but there is something too formulaic in everything to really convince.

Or maybe it is the lead whose faltering brings the entire house down. No doubt sincere, Jackky Bhagnani fails to breathe life into the character of Rishi. His co-performers Amitosh Nagpal and Vijay Verma fare better in lesser important and even shallower roles. Priya Anand is pretty but unfortunately saddled in a limited role.

There is some crackle in the road-side lingo the characters spew but largely the heavy sleight of hand drives up the notches of everything from decibels, to emotions, to colours to energy so high that all else falls by the wayside. One does then wonder of the point of it all.

FATEMA KAGALWALA

The aqua blue graphic novel-like posters alerted us to feel it around us. ‘Aatma’, the Bipasha-Basu-Nawazuddin Siddique horror thriller is quite atmospheric to that extent.

Dipped in a cold blue-grey and green palette, the film is an emotional horror film that ties up love and diabolical obsession to produce the fear. It jumps right into the story without preamble and shows us single mother Maya (Bipasha Basu) and her daughter Nia (Doyel Dhawan) grappling with the absence of Abhay (Nawazuddin Siddique). A troubled Maya wishes to keep something secret while the little Nia pines for her dad and soon begins to speak to him. This terrifies Maya because Abhay, as is soon revealed (and as the trailers show) is already dead. A spate of ugly incidents involving Nia and Maya draw up warring sides with only one agenda at the heart of it, who will Nia stay with and where, in the world or the dead.

There is a distinct coldness in the tones of the film, with the cinematographer Sophie Winqvist keeping a uniformly frosty atmosphere. That works well for the film that depends on lesser gore and shocks and more on psychological terror. There is an earnest effort to keep the head of the much-maligned genre above the water with less emphasis on gimmicks and more on mood.

Yet, all earnestness apart, the film is a tad too single-note and monotonous in building drama for lasting effect. The emotional curve that starts off with considerable tension unfortunately never peaks, even in the final act where the stakes are as high. Events run into each other with a strange hastiness, without helping us register their actual import. Without characterization or more than a one-line back story, it all ends up seeming a little half-baked.

The film does boast of a stellar cast, borrowing most of its artistes from the pantheon of performers than just ‘names’. Shiv Subramaniam and Tillottama Shome appear in cameos as Maya’s protective father and Nia’s strict teacher with little to do that complements their talent. Jaideep Ahlawat, most memorable as Shahid Khan in Gangs of Wasseypur makes a capable police officer refreshingly minus the posturing. Shernaz Patel is lovable in her role as the loving mother and little Doyel Dhawan is charmingly cute even when saddled with a typical sing-song child-speak.

The lead pair is an unusual pairing, and it isn’t milked to a distinct advantage except evoking the curiosity of watching two very distinct talents pitted against each other. Something about Bipasha Basu makes her very convincing in strong woman roles and she plays her role of single mother, who is also a victim of domestic abuse with conviction. Yet, despite being at the centre of the film, she is unable to explore the myriad emotions or shades that go with her character. Nawazuddin, however, shines even in a small role. He portrays the diabolical and homicidal Abhay with a dark finesse and never lets it go down into caricature.

Completely song-less except the haunting title track, the film banks hugely on an extremely emphatic background score that is more forceful than creepy. Aatma is imbued with adequate seriousness and sincerity to thrill and chill but it simply isn’t able to make us feel it around us as much as it would want.

Sameer (Saqeeb Saleem) is a no-good college-going youth. Carefree and careless, he is the target of his dad’s anger irrespective of anything he does. Needless to say, he rarely gets anything right and this talent lands him in an enormous soup just two nights before his sisters wedding. Sameer “word” the car his father Tej (Ram Kapoor) is gifting his daughter on her wedding.

But naturally, mayhem ensues as Sameer and his best friend Gattu (Prabal Punjabi) cook up a variety of tricks to ensure Tej doesn’t know about the loss. Jazzleen (Rhea Chakraborty) or the Shakira of Chandigarh joins them in the madness as the trio run from car hire shops to hospitals and stolen car gangs in desperation.

It is fun to watch the kids run from pillar to post in lame attempts to make good their mistake. The fear of Dad’s anger looms large of course and hence straightforward methods are out of question. The film brings in enough quirks and danger, realistic and melodramatic to make it a pleasing watch till the finish.

Mere Dad ki Maruti takes every stereotype in the book and packages it in such a fun way, one forgets to look beyond. It is set in a typical Punjabi milieu and its Punjabis are mad, loud, love big fat weddings and whiskey. The relationships and characters are painted with broad strokes, without nuance or depth but then this is no Khosla ka Ghosla. Yet, it doesn’t simply milk Bollywood’s go-to milieu, the middle class, for mere effect. It puts in some heart and a lot of madness to make the ride an unstoppable whirlwind. Lots of peppy music and high-spirited dance numbers keep up the energy without seeming like unnecessary inclusion and that’s a huge plus.

A lot of credit for this goes to the snappy dialogues by Ishita Moitra and the mish-mash of Punjabi/Hindi and English that churns out a youth lingo. Sameer, Jazzleen and Gattu mouth these with such a comfort that makes it very easy to buy into their otherwise superficial characters. Besides, the energy of their performances is just right to fuel the story. Director Ashima Chibber makes a self-assured debut.

Saqeeb Saleem as Sameer gives a sort of one-note performance but his natural confidence and easy-going bravura is effective in making him endearing. Similarly, Prabal Punjabi as Gattu is beautifully hyper as the loyal best friend, thankfully his over-excited energy never grating. Rhea Chakraborty as the bombshell plays the part of a gorgeous babe with heart and brains very well, completing the trio delightfully. Ram Kapoor is OTT but then that is his characterization and he suffices in the single-note performance he is supposed to deliver. He is the personification of a stereotypical Punjabi father, all decibels and all heart and he plays out this typified role with élan. Ravi Kissen as the Pathan gangster has little to do but is satisfyingly menacing without being reduced to a caricature.

Mere Dad ki Maruti is a joy-ride that gets its milieu right and is prettily non-ambitious to its own credit. It does go off-track in trying to bring in a few emotional notes here and there but if viewed from the same broad-stroked lens as it is made from, it surely is an enjoyable film.

Our Indian judicial system offers on a ready drama for storytellers to milk. We all know of the sluggish pace of hearings, cronyism that brings stalled and bought justice and rampant corruption that surrounds the legal system. In this reality is our optimistic protagonist Jagdish Tyagi aka Jolly (Arshad Warsi) who jumps in to make a sparkling career for himself as a lawyer.

Jolly is no idealist nor is he a shark. He simply wants the razzamatazz attached to lawyer stardom and moves to Delhi in search of a bigger platform. He finds one such opportunity in a high-profile hit-n-run case that has the grandson of a prominent industrialist in the dock and is being defended by the famous Tejinder Rajpal (Boman Irani). It is the perfect opportunity for Jolly’s rise to fame and he latches onto it. After a ‘not guilty’ verdict, Jolly files a PIL seeking re-investigation, a process that jolts Jolly’s ideas about justice and shifts his own moral compass.

What was meant to be a satire on the judicial system starts off tongue firmly in cheek with quirk and whimsy set in a realistic tone. Nothing is outlandish here, just ticklish and the humour sets off the film on the right foot towards an engaging expose of a very familiar subject. But soon the drama sets in and the film gives itself up to earnestness, letting go of the idiosyncratic humour it so carefully built up in the smallest of its characters. It slowly begins to go downhill from there.

Not only is the tone uneven, the story plays out a tad too easy while moving towards its denouement. Emotional rhetoric substitutes logic and smartness. A total lack of gimmicks is mostly a good thing but some of it here would have uplifted the narrative by several inches. And hence the face-offs between the underdog Jolly and the powerful Rajpal play with lesser force. Rajpal, for all his snarkiness surprisingly is shown to do little then blather and Jolly’s ride to the finale is hinged on few convenient plot twists and predictable conscience tugs. There is even a romantic track between Jolly and Sandhya (Amrita Rao) that initially seems unnecessary but is neatly tied into the film.

Yet, it is the character of Justice Tripathi (Saurabh Shukla) who elevates this rather straightforward and hence boring film and gives it colour. His character is a pragmatist, too experienced with the system, not shy of looking for favours yet sincere to his duty. His idiosyncrasies become delightful breaks and by the end bring out the various shades of his very intuitively written character with force, even tying up the film with the very dubious concept of justice we are forced to live with. Saurabh Shukla plays the harmless and seemingly spineless judge with a superb alacrity, one that even offsets Boman Irani’s blistering arrogant character and Arshad Warsi’s simplistically earnest one, and both of the latter are quite competent as well.

The case in question is modelled on the Delhi BMW case and it is extremely ironic that the film comes soon after a similar hit and run case involving a Bollywood superstar is under trial. It isn’t by chance either that Rajpal mouths certain statements that resound with familiarity. This gives the film a certain immediacy and a sincerity because the heart of the film is in the right place. It gives faces to the downtrodden and canvasses for their justice, speaking their side of the story. However, it does it within a certain limitedness, holding back rather than going out full-fledged. What starts of as satire slowly becomes a story about getting justice for the poor recalling, to its own disadvantage, the still-powerful Damini that did the job so well.

Jolly LLB isn’t a great film, unfortunately not even as smart as Subhash Kapoor’s brilliant debut ‘Phas Gaye Re Obama’. But it is earnest in its tone and bright in its detailing. It just isn’t as sharp and witty as the trailers promised and if one can keep that aside, it can be a jolly good ride!

FATEMA KAGALWALA