“The feminism in this film is not just admirable for intent but also for how seamlessly it’s woven into the Holmes investigation at the centre of this film. Despite this paean to womanhood being sung from start to finish in this film, not for a minute does it feel forced.”
“The opening and final episodes of the show are titled Flush In and Flush Out. Towards the end, I wondered if it was a metaphor perhaps for the viewing experience.”
Project Power needed to burst with the imagination of good X-Men films. Instead, it settles for the security of template, but without being able to deliver much of the satisfaction inherent in it.
Much like this cocktail made by Yogi Babu and friends is a mixture of drinks that have no business coming together, the story of this film is an unsettling union of bizarre ideas, including a replica of a smuggled idol, a dead woman who may or may not be drunk, and a cop (Sayaji Shinde) whose boss yells, “En thaaliya arakaadha”, in a bid to pressurise him to solve a case.
Krishna and His Leela manages to do this beautifully, treading the delicate line between vilifying and idolising him. It simply paints him as an average young man, prone to the very human follies of instinct and desire. It achieves this neutral ground because it’s not in love with him.
It’s a film whose fleeting intrigue never truly builds into something bigger. Perhaps composer Santhosh Narayanan spotted this and realised the consequent futility of attempting to build on the shallow horror in the material. Perhaps that’s why in scenes featuring a mother bawling over a lost baby, his music remains curiously detached and blithe—like it were simply killing time by itself.
“It’s a film that beautifully establishes how no matter how liberated and well-informed we may be in one area, we may be found sorely lacking in another. Arun speaks of food politics, of the importance of reservation, of equality… but as a man, is he aware of the innate derision he feels for a woman?”
“In Ponmagal Vandhal, a lawyer is permitted to go on tangential, emotional rants. A judge, who looks like a deer caught in headlights, lets out a scream of anguish. When confronted by a professional like Rajarathnam, who says that the judge summoning his client is without any basis, he channels his inner Petta Rap Nagma and screams, “Stop it!””
“Better Call Saul is material worth studying and studying again for how it manages to use fairly straightforward plot points to create visceral feelings.”
Like a drunk man experiencing an occasional, fleeting moment of lucidity, RK Nagar, every now and then, seems to recognise its own astounding mediocrity. The film begins by introducing us to half-a-dozen peripheral characters. There are a bunch of teenage perverts who make secret recordings of naked women and upload them at their internet browsing centre…
“Extraction’s thirst for imaginative violence is almost unparalleled in recent times.”
“Given its deceptively interesting beginnings, you’d never guess how low Maska would go on to fall.”