Singham Again: Modern-Day, Cop-Addled Reimagination Of Ramayana |
Singham Again is Rohit Shetty’s full throttle exhibition of his cop universe. Ishita Sengupta reviews. |
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OF ALL THE IMPROBABLE THINGS in Rohit Shetty’s Singham Again, like a car flying over a helicopter, like the same car landing without a scratch, like gifted actors dialling down their craft to match the trite script, like six people writing that script, like Ajay Devgn mistaking walking for acting, like the film mistaking walking for acting, the one that sticks out the most is Shetty assembling half the Hindi film industry (an exaggeration but you get the drift) to combat Arjun Kapoor. It is a bewildering proposition on multiple grounds, the most obvious one being Kapoor’s inability to act. In a decade-long career, the actor has made his mark in sand, which is to say not much. His turns have been largely ineffective, wholly forgettable and tremendously non-committal. On a good day I would have termed it as art but today, when the memory of his film is still fresh in my post-Diwali mind, I want to call it a miracle. *Kareena Kapoor Khan, Akshay Kumar, Deepika Padukone, Ranveer Singh, Tiger Shroff and Arjun Kapoor |
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Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3 Is Too Chaotic For Its Own Good |
BB3 is formulaic and strictly middling, not too different from what we had seen of its predecessor in the franchise |
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| | Cast: Vidya Balan, Madhuri Dixit Nene, Kartik Aaryan, Tripti Dimri |
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I HAVE A CONFESSION TO MAKE: I might have watched the most gratuitous Hindi film of the year. I say this after having seen my annual share of bad outings, vapid stories and tedious performances. I say this after having served my time. And informed by those choices and exposure, I am certain that none can hold a candle to the film I am referring to — whose lack of commitment, and tendency to milk everything from mythology to stardom have set new and low standards. I will say it aloud: Rohit Shetty’s Singham Again has wrecked me. This piece, however, is not about Shetty’s newest misadventure and yet it cannot help but be about it. By the time I stepped out of Singham Again, everything looked better in comparison. The cars on the road, albeit honking, were still behaving better than in Shetty’s films. The cops were standing at the signal and not touching each other’s feet like they did in the cop drama cosplaying as Ramayana. And then with a mind full of Singham memories, I sat to watch Anees Bazmee’s Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3, and halfway through I was convinced it was the best film I watched all year. I was laughing by throwing my head in the air and holding my stomach. I was laughing like I had not laughed before. All was good in the world again. — I.S. |
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The Substance Injects A Welcome Shot In The Arm Of Body Horror |
Forget Botox. The Substance presents the most radical antidote to the inescapable horror of ageing. |
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| Cast: Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley |
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ONE OF THE MOST agonising scenes in The Substance has no blood, no guts, no gore. The violence, if anything, is psychological. Fading Hollywood star Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) is getting ready for a date with an old classmate. She does her hair, puts on a red dress and wears red lipstick to match. But she just cannot get herself to leave the house. Each time she prepares to leave, there is always something in her line of sight that goads her into turning back. Looming just outside her window is an oversized billboard of her hot young replacement Sue (Margaret Qualley), staring back with a snooty expression that seems to taunt, “Is that really the best you can look?” More doubts creep in when Elisabeth catches her warped reflection on the polished doorknob of the front door. Distraught, she rushes back to the bathroom mirror to adjust her outfit and reapply her make-up. What would have once been a simple pre-date ritual sets off an obsessive spiral. As Elizabeth frets over flaws visible only to her, we see a woman who has internalised society’s beauty ideals so deeply she is overcome with self-hatred. So disgusted is she by the person looking back at her in the mirror that she angrily smears the lipstick across her face in defeat. So crippled is she by shame that she decides to stay home. — PRAHLAD SRIHARI |
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| Each week, our editors pick one long-form, writerly piece that they think is worthy of your attention, and dice it into easily digestible bits for you to mull over. | | In which we invite a scholar of cinema, devotee of the moving image, to write a prose poem dedicated to their poison of choice. Expect to spend an hour on this. | |
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