Gaman (Dir. Muzaffar Ali, 1978)

(Reviewed 4/5 in May 2016 on letterboxd.com)

More than twenty five years after Roy's Do Bigha Zameen, Muzaffar Ali revisits the subject of migration from the villages to the cities for making a livelihood. Unfortunately, things haven't changed much. Poverty still remains the main oppressor that people spend their entire lives fighting. Hopes, love and dreams are crushed everyday but there is no time to stop. The loved ones back home, oblivious to the condition in the cities, are still pining for a reunion.

On The Beat (Dir. Ning Ying, 1995)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in May 2016 on letterboxd.com)

Funny, satirical, humanistic and thought provoking; this film is easily one of the greatest film's on the police force I have seen. When the common man on the street starts making more sense than the beat constable, you know there is something wrong with the system. The Beijing police force in Ning Ying's film, sing song's in praise of Chairman Mao and take pride in their procedures but they don't realize how anachronistic and foolish they are starting to appear to the public. The last resort for them to enforce their rules is to growl at people and if by chance they use force, they get suspended having violated one of their own rules. Under-equipped, under-staffed, over-worked and under-paid, you cannot help feel sympathy for these well meaning yet misunderstood police officers, even as you laugh at them.

A Moment of Innocence (Dir. Mohsen Makhmalbaf, 1996)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in January 2016 on letterboxd.com)
"Isn't there a better way to save mankind than to stab a policeman on duty?", asks the young Makhmalbaf to the old. Maybe, but that's not how the old Makhmalbaf would have it. Neither would the policeman who got stabbed some twenty years ago.
Makhmalbaf's film about a film recreates a comical and emotional event of his younger self when in a moment of rebellion, he supposedly stabbed a policeman by using his cousin sister as a distraction. As irreverant an act that may appear, like the quintessential Wodehousean - stealing the policeman's helmet on boat race night, there is an incredible emotional story behind it as the policeman who is now friends with Makhmalbaf cannot forget this moment in his life. He regrets not being able to give the girl a white flower and Makhmalbaf perhaps regrets having stabbed him. The beautiful finale of this film tries to reconcile with the past when instead of a stabbing, there is a flower pot and a piece of bread that confront each other.

Postman (Dir. He Jianjun, 1995)

(Reviewed 4/5 in April 2016 on letterboxd.com)

The rhythmic sound of the stamps and the postman gingerly feeling envelopes under the pale yellow of incandescent lights stays with you long after this film is over.
"Why is it so that things people find hard to speak out in front of each other come out easily in letters?", asks the postman to his co-worker - a question that remains unanswered in this age of anonymous internet identities.

Francisca (Dir. Manoel de Oliveira, 1981)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in March 2016 on letterboxd.com)

Oliveira recreates a period of decadence and skepticism in the Portuguese and perhaps the larger European society in the mid 19th century where lofty ideas were inevitably wed with a lack of common sense. A society that was on the threshold of the machine age leading to much confusion and despair with the ways of life that were rapidly changing. Much like the romanticism and nihilism that was characteristic of the music and literature of this period, the emotions are tumultuous but very seldom make sense. I find this film a valuable document of an era almost in the same manner as some of the Ford's or Rossellini's that I admire.

Monologue (Dir. Adoor Gopalakrishnan, 1987)

(Reviewed 4/5 in February 2016 on letterboxd.com)


Adoor Gopalakrishnan's Monologue challenges the conventions of the narrative film structure in that the story is not only non linear but also cannot be trusted. Staying true to its name, the film maintains the essence of a monologue which typically is a one sided point of view interrupted by varying flights of fancy. A style reminiscent of the literary works of Dostoevsky with a schizophrenic narrator.

Rancho Notorious (Dir. Fritz Lang, 1952)

(Reviewed 5/5 in January 2016 on letterboxd.com)

This is the sort of film I can imagine coming out all excited from the theatre humming the title track, however cheesy it may sound to the ears. Impeccably crafted western from Lang with sheer entertainment from start to finish without missing an ounce on complex characterization or visual mastery.

Kanchana Sita (Govindan Aravindan, 1977)

(Reviewed 5/5 in January 2016 on letterboxd.com)

There is no God but mother Nature. Even the so called God's with their guilt ridden self's yearn to return to its fold. Aravindan tries to capture the pain and pleasure of existence in the moist eyes of humans, the physical beauty of a sacrificial horse, the wind in the trees, the rain in the river and the rising sun among other things that are Nature itself.

Kali Salwar (Dir. Fareeda Mehta, 2002)

(Reviewed 4/5 in January 2016 on letterboxd.com)

Fareeda Mehta's imagining of Saadat Hasan Manto's literary characters (including Manto himself) in contemporary Bombay (now Mumbai) is an interesting attempt at trying to capture the city's underbelly where people from all over the country migrate to try their luck. Manto's characters feel as fresh and real as they must have been in the 1940's when Manto considered Bombay his home before migrating to Pakistan after partition. Mehta's film lyrically evokes a sense of nostalgia for a city that was more comfortable in its diversity than perhaps it will ever be in the future.

Le Maison de Bois (Dir. Maurice Pialat, 1971)

(Reviewed 4/5 in January 2016 on letterboxd.com)

Although this film undoubtedly does a great job in recreating an era in its outdoor locales, what really stood out for me was Pialat's mastery at creating intimate and spontaneous moments in the indoor environment. Whether its a dining table in a country house or a palatial study of the noblesse, the sincerity of human interactions dissolves the artificial barrier of language, culture and time period. In this aspect, Pialat rivals the best of Ozu and Shimizu in this film.

Harry Black And The Tiger (Dir. Hugo Fregonese, 1958)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in December 2015 on letterboxd.com)

"Goodbye and Good Luck with the Tigers Mr. Black, both inside and out" - Nurse Somola

Elegant is the word that comes to mind when I think about this film; right from the way Fregonese depicts the protagonist i.e the Tiger, the mileu and the relationship between other principal and supporting characters of this story. Finally, the best part about this film is that the Tigers never get vanquished.

Court (Dir. Chaitanya Tamhane, 2014)

(Reviewed 3.5/5 in November 2015 on letterboxd.com)

Tamhane's Court tries to give us an unbiased bird's eye view of a modern India where people from various strata's of society have to come face to face in a court room to provide justice on the basis of an archaic legal system from the British colonial era. The absurdities and anomalies in the lives of the victim, the accused, the lawyers and the judge are testaments of the social and economic complexities in modern India. Although the film is mostly well thought out and presented, there are some moments which appear affected and thus stood out as jarring and unnatural. It is still a promising debut from Tamhane and it will be interesting to see his future work.

Nagarik (Ritwik Ghatak, 1952)

(Reviewed 4/5 in October 2015 on letterboxd.com)


This was Ritwik Ghatak's Udayer Pathey minus all the embellishments that he hated in that film. On a more serious note, this film was a seminal effort in Ghatak's cinematic journey. His characteristic use of sound and the distorted emotional upheavals are all there to see in his first film. Moreover, his thematic concerns appear to be in their purest form in this film: showing the struggle and misery of contemporary life. The men and women of his country.

Party (Dir. Govind Nihalani, 1984)

(Reviewed 3.5/5 in October 2015 on letterboxd.com)

Nihalani's adaptation of the marathi play by Mahesh Elkunchwar is a solid second outing from the director after his hugely popular first attempt, Ardh Satya. The film raises pertinent questions regarding the purpose of art and whether there can be two levels of existence for an artist when it comes to dealing with socio-political issues. The film however digresses to show us the insecurity faced by certain other minor characters which somehow weakens its impact. Somewhere the film gave me an impression that it might have benefitted from a Mrinal Sen style exploration instead of a Madhur Bhandarkar one.

Last Night At the Alamo (Dir. Eagle Pennell, 1983)

(Reviewed 4/5 in April 2015 on letterboxd.com)


A film that tries to hold on to the old simplicity of the West fearing the advent of commercial conformity as some sort of a Yankee conspiracy. No one other than Cowboy believes the Yankee bit but as his friend Claude remarks, it ain't good, that's for sure. Cowboy even thinks its the right time for him to get into movies because they don't have guys like John Wayne anymore. All they have is the Eastwood's, Redford's and Travolta's...shit. All this and more is good enough reason for these simple folk at the Alamo to try and hold on to this bar which has stood there for 30 years.

Naseem (Dir. Saeed Akhtar Mirza, 1995)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in April 2015 on letterboxd.com)

Gentle, soothing and wistful like a morning breeze. A film which like one of the characters reacts after seeing the Taj Mahal, one would want to capture through their eyes and then close them, lest any evil should befall it. Like the poet in this film, I will add this to the caravan of my memories.

A Passage to India (Dir. David Lean, 1984)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in February 2015 on letterboxd.com)

While I was going through some of the previous reviews of this film, I noticed someone call it a "flawed masterpiece". I do not generally like to use this oxymoron to assess a film but this film definitely seems to fit into that category. There are so many things in this film that are flawed or might appear to lack imagination but then it does seem to get so many things right that it makes me think.

The whole nature of British occupation of India is revealed in two telling scenes. Early in the film, Dr. Aziz and his friend after being knocked down from their bicycles irritatedly ask each other why they keep talking about the English to which one of them replies that it's because we admire them so much. Mrs. Moore has a similar revealing discussion with her son about why the Englishman remains aloof from the Indian, to which the son very candidly replies that they were here for power and they shouldn't fool themselves into believing anything else.

The whole court case remains a mystery that is never revealed except one thing which is that neither party are truly blameless. There are several other aspects that are very interesting and show Lean's deep understanding of Indian history. Dr. Aziz on an elephant ride with the English lady remarks how he imagines himself of being transported into the Mughal era and feels like a Mughal emperor. The Mughals were displaced by the English after being in seat of power for several hundred years. Counterpoint this with another scene with Prof. Godbole (Alec Guinness, quite brilliantly cast as a Hindu Kokanastha Brahmin), who philosophically puts aside the question about whether he feels any anguish about Dr. Aziz's plight saying that nothing ever is in our hands, we can try all we want.

I can probably point out many other scenes where David Lean very beautifully points out the various facets of Indian society that coexist in-spite of being at odds with each other on so many levels. The British may not have stayed on in India but even they have left behind more facets of culture that have added to the complication and in a way richness of this region south of the majestic Himalayas.

Men, What Rascals (Dir. Mario Camerini, 1932)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in January 2015 on letterboxd.com)

What a sweet little film this is! De Sica and Franca look great together as a young working class boy and girl who are essentially good at heart. Their romance is full of sweet wooing, making each other jealous and some silly misunderstandings; yet they are so head over heal in love with each other that they cannot bear see the other depressed for too long. At the same time, this is no escapist film in that the importance of a job to make a living never gets totally neglected (though there are some comic moments of recklessness from DeSica) in the course of their love for each other. The finale with the father of the girl is an icing on the cake. Perhaps the best romantic comedy I have seen so far.

Sunday (Dir. Jonathan Nossiter, 1997)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in December 2014 on letterboxd.com)

Having a job, staying in a decent home, being loved by your near and dear ones; these are luxuries which some of us tend to take for granted. This film shows us a bond shared by two strangers who have seen good times but have fallen out of their good fortune. They try to comfort each other in their fantasies hoping that their present bad fortune might just be a nightmare and that they will soon wake up from it. Until then, their everyday is as empty as a Sunday.

Decision at Sundown (Dir. Budd Boetticher, 1957)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in December 2014 on letterboxd.com)

If you had ever imagined or hoped to watch a film where the protagonist of a western out for bloody revenge could end up making a complete fool of himself, this is it. Boetticher parodies his standard revenge plot by turning it on its head and actually gets away with it. At the same time, this isn't a comedy. One can sympathize with Scott's character Bart Allison at the end as he takes out his empty rage on bottles of whisky. As the doctor remarks at the end of the film, Allison helped Sundown by coming there that day but unfortunately no one can help Allison himself. This is a strange revisionist western that makes us ruminate over the psychology behind revenge and also introspect over our own personal follies before blaming someone else for theirs.

Ghashiram Kotwal (Dir. Yukt Film Cooperative, 1976)

(Reviewed 5/5 in December 2014 on letterboxd.com)

A group of theatre and film enthusiasts came together to adapt a contemporary Marathi play to recreate an epoch of 18th century India along the vast expanse of the western ghats in Maharashtra. A history that only exists as a stream of a half conscious mind with no morals or message; with characters that have dissolved in the vastness of time, yet being presented in an unchangeable form like film, which like the narrator tells us, will appear the same every time we watch it but will be interpreted differently. This film is a forgotten triumph of an experimental collective film that refused to take individual authorship and not surprisingly is today largely forgotten in the annals of Indian cinema.

Autumn Has Already Started (Dir. Mikio Naruse, 1960)

(Reviewed 5/5 in December 2014 on letterboxd.com)

This film from Naruse appears to be a low budget personal venture that doesn't employ too many big stars as he was generally doing in this period of filmmaking. A fantastic portrait of alienation among children with unstable families who try to find comfort outdoors in the polluted urban landscape and in each others company. Perhaps a film as significant as the Antonioni from the same year but much less talked about for some reason.

Utamaro and His Five Women ( Dir. Kenji Mizoguchi, 1946)

(Reviewed 5/5 in December 2014 on letterboxd.com)

For once, while watching a Mizoguchi, I wasn't thinking about that glorified long shot aesthetic or mise-en-scene. Perhaps Mizoguchi's finest film featuring naturalistic acting, a strange tragicomic plot and the perverse madness behind an artists pursuit of capturing the soul of his subjects. An unexpected masterpiece.

Comanche Station (Dir. Budd Boetticher, 1960)

(Reviewed 5/5 in December 2014 on letterboxd.com)

"It's shameful what a man can do for money, eh Cody?...It's shameful." - Ben Lane

I don't remember the last time I watched a film that made such superlative use of cinemascope and at the same time told me so much about its characters with just a few dialogues. An austere masterpiece, just the way I like them.

Haider (Dir. Vishal Bharadwaj, 2014)

(Reviewed 4/5 in October 2014 on letterboxd.com)

I was encouraged to watch this film today after reading about the controversy surrounding it's supposedly anti-India and pro-separatist viewpoint but after watching it, found the controversy to be nothing but a storm in a tea cup as usual. (SPOILER BEGIN) By denying Haider's father his revenge, Bharadwaj clearly makes his position clear within the context of this film (SPOILER END). As far as Bharadwaj's attempt to adapt Hamlet,  I thought there were some great points: firstly Bharadwaj gives the character of Gertrude (Gazala in this film) more scope and very skillfully explores it's complexity. Tabu does a brilliant job essaying this character. Also the Oedipus complex aspect is more pronounced in this film than one finds by reading the play itself. There are some humorous bits like the Salman Khan fans as the clowns and even the small scene with the gravediggers which I thought was well done. Now coming to the less satisfying parts, I feel Bharadwaj muddles his film by trying to bring in a morality viewpoint to Haider's (Hamlet's) quest for revenge. He takes it to a point in the climax where "To be or not to be" doesn't even remain a question for Haider which I found a little difficult to digest as a Hamlet admirer but at the same time feels significant within the context of the film to emphasize Bharadwaj's pro-peace message to the audience. How successful he was in doing it remains debatable. I also found the insertion of the romantic song sequence completely unnecessary and it unfortunately took away the intensity that was being built up. The final title about the number of Kashmiri's who have died/disappeared (I forget which) felt irrelevant but was perhaps inserted to keep the Kashmir angle which I felt should have simply stayed as the backdrop, which to be fair it does for the most part.  I think overall it is still a pretty darn good film and might just grow on me further in some time.

The Age of the Medici (Dir. Roberto Rossellini, 1973)

(Reviewed 5/5 in September 2014 on letterboxd.com)

This was truly a unique experience. I haven't been a big Rossellini fan but this film was fantastic. I could see traces of Straub-Huillet in the presentation style but overall very little in common to anything I have seen before. 
To evoke the pulse and rhythm of a civilization through conversations of people of various strata of the society was a great idea. I wonder if Rossellini was inspired by the teachings of Leon Batista Alberti who occupies a significant role in the third part of the series. I will need more time to process this film and all its ideas.

Fandry (Dir. Nagraj Manjule, 2013)

(Reviewed 4.5/5 in September 2014 on letterboxd.com)

Jambuvantha alias Jabya, the son of a low caste villager has dreams of wooing a school mate who belongs to a high caste but cannot escape the incessant insults heaped upon him from the upper castes. His father is responsible to keep the wild pigs away from the village, a task which Jabya finds embarrassing due to the ridicule he receives from his classmates. In the end the embarrassment turns into seething rage which not only makes his chances of wooing the girl an impossibility but quite surely even to survive in that community. A sensitive film from director Nagraj Manjule portraying the ills of the caste system in the hinterlands of Maharashtra. I will be looking forward to watching more from him.