Tag: india

Mehndi

  By

★★½
“This path she has chosen will burn her to ash.”

When judging film for inclusion here, I always want to take into account location and era. The bar is generally lower for older films, those from a time when action was largely male territory. And other cultures also have different opinions on gender norms, so what can seem very mild sauce here, can be pushing the envelope for women’s roles somewhere else. This would be a good example of the latter. In 1998, the year this came out, Hollywood was releasing the likes of Mulan, The X-Files and Wild Things. Bollywood… was not, and it’s important to remember this as we look at a heroine Lifetime might decline as too much of a doormat.

She is Pooja (Mukerji), who has just been married off into the Chaudhary family, and specifically to Niranjan (Khan). The problem is, they are much more interested in her dowry, and when this isn’t as big as they want, the abuse from her in-laws starts. It doesn’t help that her husband is no good, but Pooja remains loyal, even when after he is accused of murder. A mysterious man shows up, promising evidence to free Niranjan… if Pooja will spend one night with him. She does, though nothing sexual happens, and her husband is indeed acquitted. However, the Chaudharys now consider her “soiled”, toss her out and seek a divorce. 

Worse is to follow as, in court, her father pulls a gun and is shot down by another member of the Chaudhary clan [courtroom security in nineties India must have been really slack – later, an attorney stabs a defendant dead!] Finally, even Pooja has had enough, and vows to destroy every one of her in-laws. Though this being Bollywood, that includes a musical number, apparently titled The Evil In-Laws, where she turns the whole village against them with lyrics like, “The evil in-laws! They’ll make your life a living hell. The evil in-laws! They commit great sins.” It’s partly why the whole thing runs 160 minutes, and would be palpably improved at half the length. Bollywood is much better now at integrating the songs, and the occasional attempts at comedy are both utterly misplaced and thoroughly unfunny.

Why Pooja puts up with so much is explained by a line during the marriage ceremony: “My husband is my god.” But it’s a concept which seems utterly alien to a contemporary Western audience – and even to some in India now. The line is revisited later, Pooja now refuting it by saying, “No. My husband is a sinner and a demon.” Pity it took so long for her to realize what’s apparent to the audience almost from the start. There is some power in these later scenes, with Mukerni able to put over the character’s rage, and I liked the way the mysterious man returns to help her. It remains a shame that she appears to be considerably more interested in taking revenge for her father, than on her own account.

Dir: Hamid Ali Khan
Star: Rani Mukerji, Faraaz Khan, Pramod Moutho, Himani Shivpuri

She season two

  By

★★★½
“Joining our story in progress…”

“Where’s season one?” you may be wondering. It’s a fair question: I thought I had reviewed it here, but there’s absolutely no sign of it on the site. Perhaps that one didn’t meet the necessary action quota? It is true that the first time the heroine shoots someone is the opening episode of the second part, and it thoroughly messes her up. Anyway, we’re here now. Said heroine is Indian policewoman Bhumika Pardeshi (Pohankar), who has been part of an operation to try and nail major narcotics dealer Nayak (Kumar). This involves her going undercover as a prostitute, in order to get into his circle and act as an informant there – obviously, this is a highly hazardous position for her. There’s a whole domestic situation to handle as well.

The first series was mostly about her relationship with one of Nayak’s lieutenants. In the second, she returns to the streets, with Nayak himself as the target. This alone also exposes Bhumika to danger, though she proves more than capable of taking care of herself against violent pimps. Indeed, this proves significant in the second half, after Nayak has supposedly been killed in a police operation. The truth is, he’s still operating, with Bhumika now his second-in-command, using the hookers to move drugs for him. Has she genuinely fallen for the crime boss? Or is this simply Bhumika embedding herself deeper, so his entire network can eventually be brought down?

This question is one which is at the core of the second series. How undercover is she, and how much is the experience going to change her as a result? By the end, the answer to the second part is clear. “A great deal”, to the point where Bhumika may not be able to resume her former life, either as a cop, or as a family woman. There’s a speech where she explains her feelings to Nayak, and how he gives her both love and respect, something she’d never received from a man before. It is thoroughly convincing, and gels with Bhumika not perhaps being “conventionally beautiful,” though she more than makes up for that in an intense and fiery charisma.

I suspect it probably counts as fairly raunchy by Bollywood standards, though this element would likely be PG-13 rated in the West. But it still doesn’t pull its punches, in its depiction of a society that is an enigmatic mix of old and new attitudes, both embracing and resisting change. I think I preferred this slightly more the first season, although without a grade to check, I can’t be certain! It feels like there is less emphasis on the domestic elements – the walking cliche who was Bhumika’s abusive and estranged husband, is barely there if at all. There’s definite scope for a third series, potentially pitting Bhumika directly against her commanding officer, Jason Fernandez (Kini). But before that, do I now need to go back and re-view season one? Stay tuned…

Creator: Imtiaz Ali
Star: Aaditi Pohankar, Kishore Kumar G, Vishwas Kini, Resh Limba

Zulm Ka Badla

  By

★★★
“The family that slays together…”

In recent years, the gap in cinema between Bollywood and Hollywood has closed dramatically. The likes of Indian blockbusters such as RRR (technically Tollywood rather than Bollywood) can stand, in terms of technical competence, beside their American equivalents. It’s mostly due to a dramatic improvement from Asia, because it wasn’t always the case, as we see when we go back to the mid-eighties for this slice of vengeance served cold. It looks pretty rough if you compare it to what Hollywood was making at the time, and in many ways feels like it’s about twenty years older than it is. I still found it more watchable than I expected, but then, I’m somewhat used to the style of Indian cinema. Newcomers might find this a bumpy ride.

It begin with an attack on military official Colonel Rajesh, in which he and his wife are killed by JK (Kapoor) and his men. Their son is missing, presumed dead, leaving young daughter Geeta (Raj) the only survivor. She is adopted by Rajesh’s friend, Inspector Verma, and grows up in his house, eventually marrying the cop’s son, Anil (Rakesh), who has followed his father into the police force. Geeta has learned to take care of herself, as we see when she handily disposes of some ruffians on the beach. But it’s only when she accidentally sees a photograph given to her husband, that her long-repressed memories of the attack surface, and an insatiable thirst for revenge is born.

On the action level, let’s be honest, this is a bit crap, with Geeta doing little more than semi-competent kicking, but being made to look like she is flying through the air, in a way a cheap seventies chop-socky movie would reject as poorly executed. [It seems Geeta is actually pregnant at this point too!] However, this is made up for by some quite intense drama, not least that her brother survived, albeit with amnesia and is now one of JK’s lieutenants. He feels a bond to Geeta, though can’t quite figure out why. There are the inevitable musical numbers, too; most are at least semi-integrated into the plot, Geeta using her seductive skills to get close to her targets. Though might I suggest that, when a woman sings a song at you whose lyrics include the lines. “Now I’ve decided either to kill you or die myself,” that caution might be the best approach.

There are some moments which definitely stretch disbelief. After Geeta is forced on the run, she disguises herself as a nun, and it appears that slapping a wimple on your head and wearing glasses is an impenetrable disguise, which neither her foster father nor husband can penetrate. However, at least they don’t try and pass the thoroughly attractive Raj off as a man (I’m talking to certain Hong Kong films here!). Her brother helps, by breaking the final target out of prison, so they can unite and take revenge together. Which is nice. Naturally, they’re not allowed to get away with it in eighties Bollywood movies, making for a rather bittersweet ending. If it’s all more than a little shaky around the edges, its heart is both large and in the right place.

Dir: Chand and K. Prasad
Star: Anita Raj, Danny Denzongpa, Rakesh Roshan, Shakti Kapoor

Gunjan Saxena: The Kargil Girl

  By

★★½
“In plane sight.”

This is the story of Gunjan Saxena (Kapoor), one of the first women to be admitted into the Indian Air Force as a pilot. Near the beginning is a rather effective scene in which she’s taken up to the cockpit of the jet on which she is flying with her father (Tripathi). The look of wonder on the young girl’s face as she sees the flight deck does a better job of putting over the sheer joy of flying than all the many montages that will be crammed in over the next 110 minutes. It’s a “Miyazaki moment”, if you are familiar with the work of Hayao Miyazaki, which often features sequences that capture the same joy.

She wants initially to be a commercial pilot, against the wishes in particular of her older brother Anshuman  (Bedi) and her mother. But her father is encouraging and sympathetic, even when her career diverts Gunjan into the Air Force, part of the first batch of female recruits. The rest of the film is notable most for its well-crafted and polished predictability. She has to overcome barriers, both physical (she’s too short to become a helicopter pilot – fortunately, she has long arms. No, really: that’s literally the get out) and those of a military culture which is not yet prepared to treat women as equals. Inevitably, there’s a commanding officer who takes the recruit under his wing, and Gunjan overcomes her own self-doubt, with the help of her father’s encouragement.

She is sent into battle as part of the Kargil war in 1999 (more of a spat, really, lasting a couple of months on the border between India and Pakistan), but public concern over her possible fate as a POW forces her removal from the front lines. It all ends up looping back to the scene at the beginning where, equally inevitably, an emergency gives her the chance to redeem herself, on a mercy mission to rescue injured colleagues who are under enemy fire. Apparently, disobeying orders in the Indian military gets you feted for your initiative, which would seem to be something more likely to happen in movies about the military, than the actual armed forces. 

There have been significant complaints about this being an unfair depiction, with the Air Force writing to the Indian censors objecting to the way it was portrayed. That may explain the lengthy pre-film disclaimer, including this odd paragraph:

The producers, directors, artists or others associated with this film are all law-abiding citizens and have not created this film to incite any disorder or lawlessness.

Saxena herself said she never experienced discrimination at the organization level, only from individuals. Obviously, I can’t speak to that, and my concerns are more about the very obvious and cliched nature of the script. There is a good point to be made, about the importance of chasing your dreams, in the face of adversity, and Kapoor’s depiction is winning and likable enough. I certainly can’t complain about the technical aspects, especially in the flying sequences, which are also well constructed. It’s just that the “woman overcomes the adversity of being a woman” story is a cinematic dead horse, and this has little or nothing new to add to it.

Dir: Sharan Sharma
Star: Janhvi Kapoor, Pankaj Tripathi, Manav Vij, Angad Bedi

Dangal

  By

★★★½
“Wrestling with the truth.”

Mahavir Singh Phogat (Khan) is a former Indian national wrestling champion, who dearly wants to pass his skills on to a son, and make him an even more renowned sportsman. Fate, however, has different plans and deals him nothing but daughters as his children. After two of them, Geeta (Shaikh) and Babita (Malhotra) beat up a local kid who was taunting them, Mahavir takes it upon himself to coach the girls in wrestling – despite the doubts of many, including his wife and, not least, the daughters. Geeta, in particular, proves to have the talent necessary to become, first a local and then a national champion. However, success at international level proves elusive, and her father butts heads with national coach, Pramod Kadam (Kulkarni), over training methods. Geeta has to decide who to believe, as she faces her greatest challenge ever, representing the hopes of her nation at the 2010 Commonwealth Games, held in Delhi, in front of a partisan home crowd.

This is basically Sports Movie 1.0.1, with tons of training montages (a way of getting in those musical numbers required by Bollywood), and Geeta overcoming obstacle after obstacle on her way to winning the gold medal in dramatic, last-second fashion. That’s not really a spoiler, since this is based on a true story, Geeta having been the first Indian women to win a wrestling medal in international competition. However, that’s about the extent of the truth here. Rather than having to mount comeback wins in all her bouts, as depicted here, she actually outscored her opponents over the course of the contest by a 15-1 margin. When the facts and the drama are incompatible, the former must be disposed of, clearly. I’m also not quite so sure her father actually was locked in a closet by the Indian wrestling board during her gold medal bout…

Still, it’s impressive that this own the biggest worldwide box-office of any Indian movie ever, mostly due to it becoming an unexpected breakout hit in China. I can see why though, since it’s the kind of plucky underdog story which has almost universal appeal, and despite qualms about its accuracy (to put it mildly), director Tiwari does it justice. While you can certainly argue this is a well-worn path, it’s done with enough energy to make it seem fresh, and the performances are all very solid [additional credit to Zaira Wasim and Suhani Bhatnagar, who play the younger versions of Geeta and Babita. Shaikh, in particular, really seems to get to grips (hohoho!) with the wrestling sequences, where she is shot in a way that’s clean, rather than hyper-edited.

The results prove reliably dramatic and do as good a job of selling events as they unfold – in addition to amateur wrestling as a spectator sport. If it’s as exciting as here, I’m in [this is, clearly, not to be confused with professional wrestling]. At a whopping 161 minutes in length, there may well have been room to trim some of the extraneous details, or even some of the bouts; we probably don’t need to see every minute of every round of every match in her journey towards the podium. However, I was never bored, and the moments that resonate across cultures more than make up for any slack.

Dir: Nitesh Tiwari
Star: Fatima Sana Shaikh, Aamir Khan, Sanya Malhotra, Girish Kulkarni 

Mrs. Serial Killer

  By

★★★
“The anti-Dexter.”

This is the kind of film which I’d say was enjoyable, rather than being good. Indeed, if you want an illustration of the difference between the two, this movie is a good example. Sona Mukherjee (Fernandez) is the wife of respected doctor, Mrityunjoy Mukherjee (Bajpayee). But their life is upended when the bodies of six, formerly pregnant, unmarried women are found on their property. Sona believes her husband was framed – possibly by police inspector and former boyfriend Imran Shahid, (Raina). She takes the advice of a dubious lawyer, who suggests that if the serial killer was shown to be still active, that would prove her husband’s innocence. So Sona kidnaps another expectant young woman, Anushka Tiwari (Khan) to provide a seventh victim. Only… well, Sona is a bit crap as a serial killer, and Anushka is a feisty little thing with a black-belt in taekwondo, pregnancy be damned.

I’m tagging this as horror and comedy, on the basis that it shouldn’t be taken seriously in the slightest. I’m fairly sure this approach is quite intentional, though with Bollywood, it’s rarely possible to be entirely certain. But there are just so many ludicrous elements, not least the central premise, that it definitely works best as a parody of lurid potboilers. For example, Indian police have apparently never heard of DNA testing, and feel that one body is pretty much as good as another. It’s also possible to trigger an immediate, devastating asthma attack, by crushing up flowers in your hands, and then blowing them in your target’s face. I thought that kind of thing only ever worked in a professional wrestling ring.

That all said, I still enjoyed it, not least for the way everyone takes it Very Seriously. It’s at its best when Sona and Anushka are facing off, the “killer” initially trying to convince her victim she has been captured by a man – an aspect as poorly considered as the rest of her plan. The contrast between the two make for amusing confrontations, such as Anushka spitting back, mockingly, “Trying to scare me with your psycho stare? I can do better. Here!” I was disappointed that they ended up taking a back-seat during the final act [for if her husband was not responsible for the six corpses… who was?] It’s still no less lurid, combining operatic music and disco lighting, in a basement festooned with a plethora of IV drips, for no reason beyond it looking cool.

It all ends in a final twist which makes about as much sense as the rest of it i.e. not very much. I won’t spoil it, but will tell you, it does not provide what I actually wanted to see, which was Sona and Anushka teaming up to go all Natural Born Killers on the real perpetrators. That would have been too much to hope for. Yet I can’t deny I was still amused enough, and wished Lifetime TVM were more like their South Asian counterparts.

Dir: Shirish Kunder
Star: Jacqueline Fernandez, Manoj Bajpayee, Mohit Raina, Zayn Marie Khan

Saand Ki Aankh

  By

★★★
“Grannies with guns”

It’s interesting to compare this with the recently reviewed Ride Like a Girl. Both are sports movies based on real events, and neither really do much story-wise, except trot out the standard tropes for the genre about overcoming obstacles on the way to triumph. Yet this succeeds somewhat better, likely because of the unusual central concept. Two Indian grandmothers, unable even to read, take up competitive shooting in their sixties, and end up becoming national heroines as a result. Tell me you’re not intrigued by that.

Chandro and Prakashi Tomar (Pednekar and Pannu) are part of a large extended family in Uttar Pradash. In this world, women do much of the work, while the men lounge around. If the film is to be believed, smoking hookah pipes and demanding snacks are their main occupations, viewing the woman as machines for pumping out babies. But things change when a local doctor (Singh) opens a shooting range. One of their grand-daughters goes along for a lesson, and the grannies – who initially attend for moral support – discover a natural talent for the sport. However, the family’s patriarch, Rattan Singh Tomar (Jha), would never permit them to travel to competitions, so deception needs to be carried out. But as the contests get bigger, so do the lies.

While the story does span several decades, it concentrates mostly on the characters in their later years, which makes it a little odd that the producers cast a pair of thirty-something actresses for the lead roles. Presumably the idea was that it was easier to make them up to be older, rather than making sixty-five year olds look thirty. I can’t say it always works. Indeed, there are points where they look closer to the Beatdown Biddies from GLOW than genuine senior citizens. At 146 minutes, it goes on too long as well. The makers could have significantly reined in the montage sequences, and the likely inevitable musical numbers add nothing to proceedings either, at least to this Westerner’s eyes. [I will admit, I’m not the intended audience there]

Despite this, is still manages to work, and the running time isn’t as much of a problem as I feared it would be when I started. It is one heck of an eye-opener to see what life in rural India is like, especially for women, and quite puts all our #FirstWorldProblems in perspective.  There’s a calm dignity about the two heroines which is effective, and it’s easy to see how that temperament transfers to their sport, even in the face of initial heckling by unconvinced audience members and opponents. It’s also about the first GWG film I’ve seen which looks at the purely sporting aspects of firearms – one of the few fields in which men and women can compete on an equal footing. The Indian title translates as “Bull’s-eye”; while I’d not claim the film scores to that degree, it hits its targets at least as often as it misses.

Dir: Tushar Hiranandani
Star: Taapsee Pannu, Bhumi Pednekar, Prakash Jha, Vineet Kumar Singh

Ek Hasina Thi

  By

★★★
“Hell hath no fury…”

A somewhat cheesy melodrama, this throws together elements from Western pot-boilers Double Jeopardy and If Tomorrow Comes, adds a handful of Bollywood spice, and to be honest, probably overcooks the whole thing a bit. The title translates as “There Was a Beautiful Woman”, presumably referring to the heroine of the piece, travel agent Sarika (Matondkar). Into her office one day comes hunky businessman Karan Singh Rathod (Khan), and after some reluctance, she begins a relationship with him. However, it turns out he is actually a mobster, and manipulates her into taking a fall rather than incriminating him, which nets Sarika a seven-year prison sentence. Escaping from jail, she vows to destroy her former lover, and in turn, works on framing Karan with his criminal pals, by making it look like he murdered a colleague and stole money.

The most fun part for me, was the section in the middle where it turns into a Bollywood women-in-prison movie. I’d have watched an entire movie about that, as Sarika – wholly unprepared for the experience – gets dropped into the literal hell-hole which is an Indian jail. [Seriously: I don’t want to hear any complaints about Western prison conditions ever again] This is what transitions her into being the bad-ass she needs to be, to be able to take down Karan, and is where the melodrama reached its peak, right from the get-go. Her cellmate offers Sarika a biscuit, then warns her, “There’s a woman here named Dolly. Beware of her. She’s crazy. She’s a real wretch. She has committed four murders.” Of course, the cellmate is Dolly. It’s like watching an entire season of The Yard, condensed into thirty minutes.

The strong female characters aren’t limited to the heroine. There’s also the prison matriarch, Pramila (Kazmi), who takes Sarika under her wing. And on the other side, is ACP Malti Vaidya – she is portrayed by Biswas, who played the title role in Bandit Queen. Vaidya is the no-nonsense policewoman who gets the heroine convicted (what’s a little finger violence between cops and criminals?), yet also wants to work her way up the chain and catch Karan as well. I’d not have minded seeing either of them get more screen-time, perhaps at the cost of the early scenes depicting the growth of the relationship between Sarika and Karan.

For at 137 minutes, it does meander a bit much, especially when its story should be accelerating forward. I have some questions about the final act, after the heroine escapes from jail during a fire. Firstly, whoever is in charge of security for Karan’s mob friends is in for a really poor performance review this quarter. And the eventual revenge taken, would have made more sense if we’d seen Karan suffer from musophobia, rather than Sarika. Overall, however, it’s an entertaining piece of nonsense, which even got Chris off her mobile phone for its duration. If you’re averse to the Bollywood standard dance routines, you’ll be pleased to learn they don’t show up here at all.

Dir: Sriram Raghavan
Star: Urmila Matondkar, Saif Ali Khan, Seema Biswas, Pratima Kazmi

Maatr

  By

★★½
“Made first, seen second, and second-rate.”

I was clued into this when researching my review of Mom, and found a number of articles which mentioned its similarities to a previously-released film Maatr. Which turned out to be available on Amazon Prime, so here we are. Turns out it in turn was inspired by a Korean movie, Don’t Cry Mommy. Guess you should expect a review of that in due course, as I head further down the rabbit-hole. Anyway, this is acceptable rather than memorable. If definitely falls short of Mom,mostly due to the relatively bland and forgettable lead performance of Tandon as Vidya Chauhan.

She and her daughter are heading home from a school function when their car is run off the road. The injured women are taken to a remote farmhouse, and brutally raped. Dumped by the roadside, the mother survives. The daughter does not. Vidya has the help and support of her best friend, Ritu (Jagdale), who takes her in after the subsequent implosion of her marriage. The authorities? Not so much. For they fail to take action, when they discover one of the men Vidya identifies is the son (Mittal) of a powerful politician. If she wants justice, she is forced to take matters into her own hands.

It’s all handled competently enough, though there are plenty of plot elements which had me raising a quizzical eyebrow. In the middle, we have a montage including the heroine working out, but that implies a physicality that is never fully exploited. For example, she kills the first victim by loosening the wheel of his motor-cycle, and the second by doctoring his cocaine, neither exactly requiring strength or fitness. As an aside, amused to see the film: a) blur out the search-engine results when she’s researching drugs, b) asterisk out bad words in the subtitles, and c) put “Smoking Kills” in the bottom right of the screen, every time someone lights up. Such social responsibility can only be admired.

That the mother was a direct victim does give it a different feel to Mom, though I’m not sure it’s better. This feels more a personal vendetta than a quest for justice on behalf of a wronged innocent. But I’m also uncertain how much of the lesser impact is due to Tandon simply not being anywhere near as good an actress as Sridevi. However, there are some decent moments, such as the casual way her husband declares the end of the marriage, finishing with a request to pass the ketchup. The actual attack is also well-handled; savage without being explicit. However, in contrast to its terseness, the aftermath is drawn out too long, with an excess of moping about, before the heroine gets her butt in gear. The trope of politicians and their relatives being above the law is one which is quickly becoming a cliche, even in my limited experience of Bollywood film. While perhaps a victim of being seen second, there’s just not very much reason to watch this rather than Mom.

Dir: Ashter Syed
Star: Raveena Tandon, Madhur Mittal, Anurag Arora, Divya Jagdale

Mom

  By

★★★½
“God can’t be everywhere.” “I know. That’s why he created mothers.”

This strong Indian tale of revenge and (step)mother love was, sadly, the last major appearance for its star. Sridevi accidentally drowned in a Dubai hotel, a few months after the film was released. But it’s a wonderful monument to her talent. She plays Devki Sabarwal, a biology teacher who is having trouble in the relationship with her teenage step-daugher, Arya (Ali). But everything changes after Arya is abducted while leaving a party, raped and beaten, then thrown into a roadside ditch. The fact Arya had been drinking is used to discredit her testimony, and the absence of forensic evidence helps her attackers walk free. Blood relation or not, Devki isn’t having that. With the help of private eye DK (Siddiqui), she starts to impose her own kind of justice, despite the increasing suspicions of Detective Francis (Khanna).

At 146 minutes, it’s certainly too long, though this is par for the course in Bollywood. And, at least, the makers wisely abstain from any musical numbers (there are some songs which are a little too foregrounded for my tastes). Despite the length, you’d be hard pushed to call any of it dull, and it’s effective stuff – occasionally, very much so. The assault, for example, isn’t seen. Instead, we follow the car in which it happens from above – pausing as the perpetrators get out to swap sides – before Arya is dumped. Despite, or perhaps because of, such restraint, it packs an undeniable punch. Similarly, the dialogue, such as at the top, between Devki and DK, is sharp and makes you sit up and pay attention, and it’s generally smarter than you’d expect.

In particular, the sequence where she poisons one target with apple seeds, then frames another for the crime. Initially, I was, “Wait, what?” But, some Googling told me seeds contain small amounts of a compound called amygdalin: when chewed or (as here) ground up, this turns into highly toxic hydrogen cyanide. Who knows this stuff? A biology teacher like Devki, that’s who. It’s an interesting exercise to compare and contrast the approach here to Revenge, which covered a not dissimilar topic of a mother seeking justice after the gang-rape of her daughter goes unpunished. Both film and TV series lean heavily on their lead actress, and in each, they are up to the job.

Revenge has the advantage of greater length at which to explore the idea, and when the vengeance comes, it’s considerably more satisfying and brutal. This is perhaps a little too restrained, and the subplot of Arya being Devki’s step- rather than biological daughter feels a bit unnecessarily tacked-on. Mother’s mad skills at breaking and entering are a little unexplained, too. However, I did appreciate the cops’ underestimating her, initially believing her husband to be responsible, and letting Devki get about her work. And if you aren’t standing on your chair and cheering at the end, after Arya calls her “Mom” for the first time…

Dir: Ravi Udyawar
Star: Sridevi, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Akshaye Khanna, Sajal Ali