एक लड़की को देखा तो ऐसा लगा Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (2019)

It’s only fair in my week of romance and wedding-themed films to have one that actually seems fairly positive about the whole thing. Plus, given today marks the release on Portrait of a Lady on Fire in the UK, I can tie this film in somewhat to that in the sense that it’s a lesbian romance.


A big, boldly-coloured and glamorous mainstream film about two women in love, still rather a taboo subject in this traditional country it would seem, which approaches its topic via the roundabout route of suggesting first an interfaith relationship. It’s set in India’s northern state of Punjab, and presents its Hindu heroine Sweety (Sonam Kapoor) as apparently being smitten with Muslim film director/writer Sahil (Rajkummar Rao), much to the disappointment of her fiery brother Babloo and father Balbir (Sonam’s real life father Anil Kapoor). By the time the latter two men come round to Sahil, the film has made it clear that actually she’s really into a woman she met at a wedding (Regina Cassandra), so everyone’s in an awkward situation, which the film resolves with a musical-within-the-film. It manages to guide this emotional movement rather sensitively, only gradually laying out the real situation, and ensuring that when everything goes down with her family, she at least has the newly-welcome Sahil on her side. There’s some sweet detail around the edges which reminds us of the story’s source (a PG Wodehouse novel) and the British class structure of that original text: the family’s servants have scenes in which they’re seen taking bets on what’s going to happen; while businessman Balbir’s real love is cooking, though he’s been banned from the kitchen by his mother, who is clear that this is an undignified pursuit (indeed, when Sahil comes by to secretly pass a message to Sweety, he makes the classic comedy mistake of confusing Balbir for a servant). Of course, given it’s a Bollywood film, there’s some dancing at the wedding, but this isn’t quite as musical as some other films, preferring to retain its focus on the emotional core of the film, and comes in at a slim two hours running time.

Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga film posterCREDITS
Director Shelly Chopra Dhar शैली चोपड़ा धार; Writers Gazal Dhaliwal ਗਜ਼ਲ ਧਾਲੀਵਾਲ and Dhar (based on the novel A Damsel in Distress by P.G. Wodehouse); Cinematographer Himman Dhamija; Starring Sonam Kapoor सोनम कपूर, Anil Kapoor अनिल कपूर, Rajkummar Rao राजकुमार राव, Regina Cassandra ரெஜினா கசாண்ட்ரா; Length 120 minutes.
Seen at home (Netflix streaming), London, Thursday 22 August 2019.

Viceroy’s House (2017)

Not all the prestige heritage productions of the British film industry are about rich white aristocrats, but too many of them do tend to be, even the ones directed by British-Asian directors like Gurinder Chadha. I imagine it will take a long time to truly decolonise this most stalwart of the British filmic genres, but perhaps there may be little steps in that direction. This is hardly flag-waving patriotism, mind, but it still feels a little bit misty-eyed, though I broadly liked it.


I’ve seen plenty of commentaries calling this film to task for its representation of the partition of India, specifically the way that Pakistan and its leader Jinnah seem like the ‘bad guys’ and the aristocratic Mountbattens (here played by Hugh Bonneville and Gillian Anderson) are the well-meaning yet unwitting deliverers of imperial judgment. I can’t really disagree with these criticisms, though however much the film may go out of its way to make the Mountbattens (especially Lady M) likeable and empathetic towards the Indian people, I can’t ever really get onside with imperialists, so really it’s the story of the younger lovers within the Viceroy’s household which is most affecting. It also leads to a poignant, tearful, melodramatic and sentimental climax, which can be a failing of many a big sumptuous historical epic (and this one is nothing if not sumptuous). It’s not a million miles from A United Kingdom in this respect. It has honour I think (and it clearly has personal meaning to director Gurinder Chadha, as the end credits make clear), but it’s not without its weaknesses.

Viceroy's House film posterCREDITS
Director Gurinder Chadha; Writers Paul Mayeda Berges, Moira Buffini and Chadha; Cinematographer Ben Smithard; Starring Manish Dayal, Huma Qureshi हुमा क़ुरैशी, Hugh Bonneville, Gillian Anderson, Michael Gambon, Om Puri ਓਮ ਪੁਰੀ; Length 106 minutes.
Seen at Curzon Mayfair, London, Saturday 4 March 2017.

Criterion Sunday 276: The River (aka Le Fleuve, 1951)

There’s a hint in this Jean Renoir film, made in India in the English language, of contemporary Powell and Pressburger films. Not just from the lush and almost anti-realist colour, but also in a certain colonialist attitude: it’s set amongst British settlers, presumably in the past when it was a colony of the Empire, and concerns three young women and their affections towards a one-legged American ex-serviceman called Capt John (he limps a bit). It’s narrated by the youngest of the three, Harriet (Patricia Walters), who is a writer of sorts, and creates her own narrative for the oldest, who is half-Indian. It all has a languorous air, perhaps because it’s about the last vestiges of colonialism in a newly independent country, or perhaps because of its Western gaze, although it feels like a benign vision of the country compared to some other more orientalist portraits (or a film like Black Narcissus), but I would imagine that’s largely down to Jean Renoir’s sensitivity as a director and writer. Certainly a film that will reward another viewing, I suspect.

CRITERION EXTRAS:

  • There’s an interview with Martin Scorsese, whose Foundation helped in the restoration of the film, and who is unabashedly a big fan of the film. He speaks about his childhood experiences seeing it, about the colour and the staging, about Renoir’s collaboration with Rumer Godden and the humanity that Renoir has for his characters, as well as touching on the colonialist aspects.
  • Renoir introduces the film in a 7-minute filmed introduction made in 1962 (there are similar ones included on other Renoir films in the Criterion Collection). He relates some stories about the production in an avuncular manner, and hints at his (perhaps troubled) collaboration with the producer Ken McEldowney.

FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director/Writer Jean Renoir (based on the novel by Rumer Godden); Cinematographer Claude Renoir; Starring Patricia Walters, Radha Burnier, Adrienne Corri, Thomas E. Breen, Esmond Knight; Length 99 minutes.

Seen at home (Blu-ray), London, Sunday 17 November 2019.

गल्ली बॉय (Gully Boy, 2019)

It wouldn’t be right to do a themed week around the musical and not cover at least one Bollywood film, an industry whose entire production in every genre seems to be somehow informed by the genetic material of the musical. It just so happens that some of them are rather closer to the form than others, and this film is at heart a film about music and the performance of it, as well as being something of a musical.


I suppose I was primed beforehand to be resistant to what appears (and, to a certain extent, is) the Bollywood reimagining of 8 Mile, with its aspirant rapper Murad (Ranveer Singh), who has to be coaxed into performing and then finds himself on stage trying out for the big time, with moneyed half-American hangers-on tempting him with their aspirational lifestyles. But really, this is a film that’s far more in its element when it’s dealing with the slums that Murad has come out of, about his secret relationship with Safeena (Alia Bhatt, whom I adore) — whose family are wealthier and whose parents would never consent to their being together — and about the difficulties he has just trying to live his life. After all, he has friends who are mixed up in carjacking and drug dealing, and so their easy access to money at times becomes too tempting. In some ways, class seems even more ingrained into the Indian films I’ve seen than in any other cinema, and it’s explicitly addressed here by the director Zoya Akhtar, as are the double-standards of Murad’s father, who has married a much younger second wife and then treats his first one badly — his actions are hardly excused, but we do get a glimpse into the grinding poverty and lack of opportunities he’s been given in life, and the extent to which he has given up hope of it ever changing. Given the film’s big-budget production background, none of this context was ever likely to be as gritty and depressing as it could be, but all the themes are very much there. Still, for all that, and for all the enjoyment in its big musical competition scenes, any lead character who could even think about cheating on Alia Bhatt will never fully have my sympathy.

Gully Boy film posterCREDITS
Director Zoya Akhtar ज़ोया अख़्तर; Writers Akhtar and Reema Kagti ৰীমা কাগতি; Cinematographer Jay Oza जय ओझा; Starring Ranveer Singh रणवीर सिंह, Alia Bhatt आलिया भट्ट; Length 153 minutes.
Seen at Cineworld Wood Green, London, Wednesday 20 February 2019.

LFF 2019 Day Twelve: So Long, My Son and Bombay Rose (both 2019) and House of Hummingbird (2018)

My final day of the London Film Festival sends me to three films from Asia (two directed by women), and all of which deal with families in their various guises, though Bombay Rose has more of a romantic flavour than the other two. All three represent reasons why I continue to love contemporary cinema, and value the films that the LFF presents.

Continue reading “LFF 2019 Day Twelve: So Long, My Son and Bombay Rose (both 2019) and House of Hummingbird (2018)”

डियर ज़िन्दगी Dear Zindagi (2016)

This isn’t perfect as a film, far from it — our heroine (Kauri, or “Koko” for short, played by the lovely Alia Bhatt) spends much of the time acting like an entitled brat, for which there’s an explanatory backstory near the end which is far too neat and allows for a perfunctory ending that stretches credulity — but I really liked this film. It has its heart in the right place. Maybe it’s better to say what it’s not: it’s not a film in which a wayward heroine is cured by a hunky love interest (though the reliable Shah Rukh Khan does play a key role as a therapist, while the film at one point even suggests Kauri may be lesbian, and there’s a little coda that plays with gender identity); and it’s also not a film that stigmatises mental health issues (even if I don’t believe Khan’s therapy sessions at all). It has visual flair, and I really wished Kaira’s job as a cinematographer were more developed than the opening half hour, but it shows plenty of promise.

Dear Zindagi film posterCREDITS
Director/Writer Gauri Shinde गौरी शिंदे; Cinematographer Laxman Utekar लक्ष्मण उतेकर; Starring Alia Bhatt आलिया भट्ट, Shah Rukh Khan शाहरुख़ ख़ान; Length 150 minutes.
Seen at Cineworld O2 Greenwich, London, Monday 28 November 2016.

Criterion Sunday 93: Black Narcissus (1947)

Having recently revisited my previously low opinion on Powell and Pressburger’s The Red Shoes, I’d hoped the same would happen for me with their big beautifully-coloured studio-bound epic of the year before. It’s an exoticist take on India, as Deborah Kerr plays Sister Clodagh, selected to run a new mountain outpost in rural India and swiftly despatched with a selection of other nuns, including the unstable Sister Ruth (Kathleen Byron). The sets and filming is undeniably gorgeous, and there’s a lot of high camp to the proceedings, only heightened by that Technicolor. The fierce competition between Clodagh and Ruth largely takes place across their faces, with Mr Dean (David Farrar) stuck manfully in the middle, dispensing his sardonic advice about how best to get along with the locals. The film’s big misstep is in the whitewashing of Indian roles (with the exception of Sabu’s ‘little’ General), which may be a feature of contemporary filmmaking, but doesn’t make it any easier to watch, much though Jean Simmons in particular does her best to steal her scenes.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Directors/Writers Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (based on the novel by Rumer Godden); Cinematographer Jack Cardiff; Starring Deborah Kerr, Kathleen Byron, David Farrar, Sabu, Jean Simmons; Length 100 minutes.

Seen at National Library, Wellington, Thursday 20 May 1999 (also on VHS at home, Wellington, April 1998, and most recently on DVD at a friend’s home, London, Sunday 17 April 2016).

सनम तेरी कसम Sanam Teri Kasam (2016)

For all the rippling abs and tattoos sported by hero Inder (Harshvardhan Rane), there’s something old-fashioned to the way this film plays out (which may perhaps be due to the fact that there have been several films of this title over the years, not that their plots seem to bear much similarity). It’s a romantic melodrama, in which two neighbouring young people from either side of the metaphorical tracks fall for one another. Saraswati (Mawra Hocane) is a frumpy librarian (of course!) from a good family whom nobody wants to marry, and Inder is a sexy ex-con with a very long line in laconic brooding and trouble committing to relationships (although there’s a hint that he may have a backstory of privilege). When they are caught talking in his apartment (she wants a makeover to snag herself a business school graduate), her father dramatically severs all ties and performs funerary rites for his now-dead-to-him daughter.

To be honest, for all its big soap-operatic storylines, the film largely had me in its thrall up until the interval. Hocane is delightful as the dowdy Saru, with big dorky glasses looking for all the world like Anne Hathaway in The Princess Diaries (2001; a masterpiece, of course). This does all mean that inevitably there will be a makeover scene, and there’s a song and dance to go along with it that’s quite fetching. Meanwhile, the film spares no effort in showing quite how ripped and sexy Inder is, as he’s constantly caught topless (certainly, he’s never without at least three buttons undone on his shirt), or doing pull-ups in his apartment, throwing glances Saru’s way and even joining the library so he can bump into her. Naturally Inder has feelings for Saru that go beyond her looks, but he isn’t able to express himself (because backstory… it all comes out later on), and so every time they’re together (which is most of the time), there’s a whole lot of longing looks and sultry gazes off camera, eyes filled with conflicted emotions — you know the drill, really. Their relationship feels even a little transgressive, as they fall in love in spite of their families’ wishes (both have strained relationships with their dads, and that’s a big issue in this film, and one imagines in wider Indian society).

It’s just that the last third wraps things up just a little too neatly. Things take a sudden tearjerking turn as an illness plot is introduced, seemingly to punish Saru for her feelings (or maybe to punish her father). Needless to say, the patriarchal needs of society are healed, and it’s too bad for our lovers. Sure, doomed love is a plot as old as time, but when you care about your characters, sometimes you hope for something more.

Sanam Teri Kasam film posterCREDITS
Directors/Writers Radhika Rao राधिका राव and Vinay Sapru विनय सप्रू; Cinematographer Chirantan Das चिरंतन दास; Starring Harshvardhan Rane హర్షవర్ధన్ రాణే, Mawra Hocane ماورا حسین; Length 154 minutes.
Seen at Cineworld Wood Green, London, Tuesday 9 February 2016.

இறுதிச்சுற்று Irudhi Suttru (aka साला खड़ूस Saala Khadoos, 2016)

There’s plenty of life left in the boxing drama (the recent Creed proves that), even when it’s told about women’s boxing or from a woman’s perspective — hardly unfamiliar to those who’ve seen Million Dollar Baby (2004) or Girlfight (2000). This Tamil/Hindi film (it was made in both languages and released under separate titles) takes its place in that lineage and though it may lack the big budget of its Hollywood counterparts, it proves itself the scrappy underdog — not unlike its star, Madhi (played by Ritika Singh), who lives in poverty in Chennai, making money by selling fish, but shows enough promise in the ring to interest trainer Prabhu (R. Madhavan). Madhavan is clearly the star here, and its mostly on his beefily charismatic presence that the film coasts — his character is down on his luck, he drinks and smokes (vices which merit an on-screen statutory health warning in Tamil Nadu it seems), and is constantly fighting against the corruption within the sport’s administration which seeks to sideline him and his charges. Singh, meanwhile, is called on to be little more than angry and scowling for the first half, before finally finding a measure of inner strength and resolve towards the end.

In the end, the film leans rather too heavily on clichéd tropes, among which are frequent use of desaturated slow-motion footage to call back earlier moments in the film, not to mention plentiful montage training sequences — though one or two of these come closer to energetic dance numbers, which makes sense given its Indian production context. It’s not the most satisfying film in the end, but it has enough spark within it to make it an enjoyable enough watch.

Irudhi Suttru (aka Saala Khadoos, 2016)CREDITS
Director/Writer Sudha Kongara Prasad சுதா கொங்கரா; Cinematographer Sivakumar Vijayan शिवकुमार विजयन; Starring R. Madhavan माधवन, Ritika Singh रितिका सिंह; Length 109 minutes.
Seen at Cineworld Wandsworth, London, Monday 1 February 2016.

Meet the Patels (2014)

This documentary, about LA-based aspiring actor Ravi’s search for love and how that conflicts with the traditions of his Indian parents, is amusing, delightful and coasts by easily on the charm of its star. But it’s also, more than anything else it seems to me, a film that’s really about what it means to be an American, something that negotiating various cultural traditions brings into focus — for Ravi (and his sister Geeta, who shot the film) is a first generation child of immigrants to the States. Aziz Ansari has been bringing this perspective to the mainstream in recent years, especially with his excellent Netflix series Master of None, but Meet the Patels has been on the go since the late-2000s, when Ravi was about to turn 30 and his parents had started to despair of his ever marrying (although he’d been in a relationship with a white American woman for a number of years, without letting his parents know). The film is really very good at getting across how important marriage is to his parents (who incidentally end up basically stealing the film when they’re on screen), to Ravi and Geeta’s entire upbringing, and to the vast swathes of India (specifically Gujarat in this case) where Patel is not just a surname but a caste signifier, and getting hitched is so important that there’s a family-based industry of matchmaking and arranged marriages. It gives a real and vivid sense of what it means to be part of a culture, and how difficult it is to break with that. However, as a documentary it’s very much about its subject rather than filmmaking style (it very self-consciously points out the technical limitations of its creation), and uses cutely animated inserts to frame the story and provide occasional commentary, though not to the extent of ever becoming annoying. It’s ultimately very likeable, and an easy introduction to quite an emotive subject.

Meet the Patels film posterCREDITS
Directors Geeta V. Patel and Ravi V. Patel; Writers Geeta V. Patel, Ravi V. Patel, Billy McMillin and Matthew Hamachek; Cinematographer Geeta V. Patel; Starring Ravi V. Patel; Length 88 minutes.
Seen at Curzon Bloomsbury, London, Tuesday 5 January 2016.