Dear Zindagi
To be honest, I have no idea why I went to see this one. I
guess I was feeling way too delirious and just picked the movie randomly.
People might think I need to get my head checked. After all, if you just look
at Alia Bhatt for more than ten minutes your IQ drops at least ten points.
Throw in a bearded SRK and you end up feeling like Leonardo DiCaprio stuck in
the Shutter Island for two and half hours trying to figure out whatever the
fuck is going on. DZ is the story of a girl Kyra with intimacy issues in life.
Why? Well, because her filthy rich parents (who, by the way, has got a swimming
pool in the backyard of their Goa mansion.) ‘abandons’ five years old Kyra to
her filthy rich grandparents who also happen to own a big, fat villa in Goa and
goes to some phoren country looking for more dough. Sad, little Kyra grows up
to be a commitment phobic little whore who fiddles with camera and shoots
so-incredibly-mediocre-that-it-borders-on-ridiculous scenes. Oh it’s because
she is a cinematographer. So this tall, handsome guy (Kunal Kapoor has become
more delicious since his Rang De Basanti days) falls for the little chick and
proposes to her. She declines his proposal and goes on the dance floor and
starts dancing looking more distressed than her jeans. She is the desi Jodie
Foster remember? The bafflement of the audience begins from here. Then she goes
to her parents’ house and comes across this cool, funny psychologist dude
Jahangir Khan (SRK) who happens to share her enthusiasm for ripped denims. She
starts going for therapy session to this Jahangir fellow to get over her
heartbreak. Now you might wonder why she is heartbroken. She rejected the tall,
hot fellow for apparently no reason and then started acting all weird,
including one vandalism incident at the departmental store. Jahangir ‘Jag’ Khan
begins his therapy session with the sad damsel in distressed denim. Sometimes I
couldn’t help wondering where Dr. Khan got his psychology lessons from. John
Green’s youtube channel? Eventually their session ends with Kyra being wiser
(bet she still didn’t know our president’s name) and the ungrateful spoilt brat
makes her most predictable move. She hits on her therapist. Gross much? She
gets turned down but finds her love back for life. Movie ends. Audience comes
out of the theatre feeling like Theon Greyjoy. Tortured and utterly lost. Dear Zindagi, why did I waste precious two and a half hours of you watching this load of crap?
Byomkesh Pworbo
I went to watch this for Aabir, nothing else. Despite my
best friend D’s claim that he has man-boobs and he is way too hairy to catch my
fancy I cannot help drooling over this dude. Until the time one hypocrite
wannabe intellectual Bengali jackass guy was making back to back Byomkesh
movies I never felt the urge to watch any of them. I hardly had any big
expectation from Arindam Seal either, but that’s due to his extremely questionable
political integrity. As a filmmaker Seal is doing fairly well. I was pleasantly
surprised after watching Har Har Byomkesh. But the main reason I usually avoid
these movies is because I am more rigid than the Vatican when it comes to my
favourite classics. I couldn’t forgive even Satyajit Ray for making
Chiriakhana.
Nandan was bursting with people on Sunday afternoon. The
show was houseful. Byomkesh Pworbo is based on Amriter Mrityu – mystery
revolving around illegal arms dealing in post-independence, undivided Bengal. The
movie begins with the scene of a dark jungle and a dark figure moving past on a
horse. Who is that figure? Human or ghost? Why does he roam about in the forest
on a horseback? The plot thickens when a local boy’s murdered body is found in
the jungle. However I wonder why Seal chose this story of all. Shot in the
forests of Dooars Byomkesh Pworbo is a visual treat. But Amriter Mrityu in my
opinion is not among the best of Byomkesh stories and lacks cinematic element.
Byomkesh is more James Bond and less Byomkesh in this movie.
He does it all – from riding horse to beating up goons in Bollywood style. He
also disguises himself and goes to redlight area to enjoy item number by a
visibly more voluptuous Sayantika. Not to mention a trying-too-hard-to-look-thirty June Malya playing a what-the-hell-is-she-doing-there character. Until this it was ok, but the political touch given to the story in the end was too much for me to digest. Well, this is what happens when you
choose a not-so-great plot and try to make a 2 hours’ movie out of it. However
the best thing about BP is its casting apart from the Malya-Sayantika fiasco.
Every single character is played by the little gems of Bengali film industry.
And that has made this otherwise blah movie worth giving a shot.
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