Cinemaah

 No Shades Of Grey

Sriram Raghavan’s Andhadhun, is inspired by Oliver Trennier’s French short film, L’Accordeur, and dedicated to once popular Doordarshan programmes Chhayageet and Chitrahaar.

The real surprise is the return of 1970s star Anil Dhawan (who disappeared inexplicably from movie scene), playing a former star, Pramod Sinha, so there are posters, clips and songs from the movies Dhawan starred in—the most memorable being Teri galiyon mein na rakhengen kadam from Hawas (1974). 

The protagonist Akash (Ayushmann Khurrana) is a blind pianist, who, while working on a tune for a competition in London, finds employment in a restaurant run by Sophie (Radhika Apte), where he meets Sinha. The star, flattered by his film tunes that Akash plays, invites him to his home to surprise his much younger wife Simi (Tabu) on their wedding anniversary.

Akash’s life goes haywire after that visit, and he gets embroiled in the desperate plots of Simi and her lover, a cop Manohar (Manav Vij). Simi is the perfect femme fatale, cool in a crisis and able to think on her feet.

Till mid-point Raghavan sets-up a nostalgia-laden crime thriller, in which it is impossible to predict what happens next.  Once other characters like an evil doctor and his two cohorts, plus the cop’s wife jump into the fray, the film turns about greed and cruelty, and the script becomes too schematic.

When the film stayed on the problems Akash inadvertently gets into, it was enjoyable; later as it ties itself up into knots and looks for macabre ways to dispatch various characters, it loses some of its wicked charm, and also the emotional empathy built up for Akash.

Still, with KU Mohanan’s moody visuals and Pooja Ladha Surti’s snappy editing (she is also one of the writers), Raghavan keeps a grip on the narrative, dots all I’s and crosses all T’s, so the viewer leaves the hall knowing what happened to the rabbit that appears in the beginning.

Tabu in her “Lady Macbeth” (as a character refers to her) avatar has been perfectly cast—one can’t think of anyone else who could have played this part with such razor’s edge balance. Ayushmann Khurrana’s pick of roles has been remarkable, and his Akash is a wonderful addition to his filmography.

Raghavan is in his element here, as he is with pulp thrillers (Agent Vinod was an unfortunate misstep) that do not bother much about morality or redemption, as long as the audience is kept alert, and nobody can take a second to check their phone.

When They Danced

The best thing about Love Yatri is the timing of its release—a film set during Navratri, out just before nine days of dandiya madness hit Mumbai, Gujarat and maybe some other towns where it has caught on.

The 'hero' of this film, directed by Abhiraj Minawala has the unfortunate nickname, Susu (Aayush Sharma), the college duffer, who has no ambition except to teach garba to kids. But the film’s plot demands that this guy with no discernible qualities, should woo and win a fair NRI business school topper, Michelle aka Manisha (Warina Hussain).

Susu’s uncle (Ram Kapoor), a dandiya singer, fills his head with romantic nonsense, and even when the chap sees that he is clearly out of his league, tells him Indians learn love from the movies and make it last for seven births.  Which is a scary thought!

For some reason, Michelle also falls in love with Susu, as he takes her on a foodie tour of Varodara. But her scowling daddy (Ronit Roy), who runs a chain of laundries in London called Lord Of The Rinse (seriously!), takes Susu atop a giant wheel to tell him that he is no match for his daughter, who is about to earn a  £ 85000 salary package. Susu gets all huffy over this, and Michelle leaves to go back to London.

Susu (always accompanied by irritating friends) is ready to give up, but the uncle takes him to London and lets him loose to stalk Michelle. (Okay, she blocked him on phone and FB, but he never heard of email?)

Love Yatri is an old fashioned love story, a poor man’s DDLJ, so to say. Aayush Sharma with his big hair and gleaming smile can dance; this film was not meant to display his acting skills. Warina Hussain is pretty in a bland kind of way, and she will also need another film to prove that she can act.

The soundtrack of the film used the thumping dandiya beats and some popular garbatunes; the bright costumes have enough mirrorwork to sink a ship. Youngsters with nothing better to watch might just go for this generic Bollywood romance that dances around aimlessly while smarter filmmakers are experimenting with fresh content.