Kartik Bhardwaj

After her husband played a different kind of alpha in Animal (2023), Alia Bhatt arrives to kick some man rears in YRF spy-universe’s first female-led actioner Alpha. Here girls get more agency than the freedom of choosing their partners. They get it done. They can man a machine gun, throw deadly knives, break limbs and climb mountains in shorts and sneakers, all while being powered by some Scooty Pep ad optimism: “Stubborn girls change the world.”

You watch the interview of any 90s Hindi film actor and they will inevitably mention how often there used to be no script on set. Director Ahmed Khan brings back this magic of the 90s in Welcome To The Jungle, an anything-goes madcap movie which oscillates between funny one-liners and absolute brainrot. It’s a film about the making of a flop film and thus it tries to hide its stupidity behind the garb of meta-ness. It can be silly, absurd and often baffling. At a moment, it has Suneil Shetty’s face covered in cocaine. That surely sums things up.

Let’s talk about the art of the Hindi film disclaimer. It used to be the good-old “all events and characters shown in this film are fictional, any resemblance to any existing people, event or place is purely coincidental.” But when it comes to propaganda slop, this disclaimer can be practically anything. It can be “inspired” by real people”, “inspired” by true events and in the latest Governor, “a version of true events that merges many incidents in one timeline suitable to the film.” This gives the makers an opportunity to peddle anything. Merge everything in one timeline. We got independence, but in 2014.

“There behind barbed wire, on one side, lay India and behind more barbed wire, on the other side, lay Pakistan. In between, on a bit of earth which had no name, lay Toba Tek Singh.” Manto’s short story and its essence hit me like a truck while experiencing Imtiaz Ali’s poetic, Partition-era romantic-drama Main Vaapas Aaunga. Just like Toba Tek Singh, now lies Ishar Singh Grewal (Naseeruddin Shah) on his deathbed. His soul too seems stuck in the barbed wire between India and Pakistan. It can’t depart. He is grabbing on to see his pre-Partition city of Sargodha for one last time, to see Jiya/ Afsana for one last time. This girl of his youth smiles in his blurred dreams and says, “See, no. My chaand bali (earring) has fallen off somewhere. Will you find it for me?”

After reviewing innumerable Hindi films over the years, one develops a certain kind of thick skin. You can start believing that nothing can really shake your brain-matter. Then comes a film like Hai Jawani Toh Ishq Hona Hai and you get a reality check. If you find yourself watching this film in the theatre and witness somebody laughing hysterically long after the punchline has passed, please excuse them. They are questioning their choices. If there can be tears of joy, there also can be guffaws of sorrow.

A body lies face down on the floor. The named-after-Nirma-ad trio, mother Rekha (Madhuri Dixit) and daughters Jaya (Triptii Dimri) and Sushma (Dharna Durga) look on, contemplating the next step. The options are limited. Hide it in the house? Throw it into the canal? Confess to the cops? Rekha breaks the silence: “Should I make some tea first?” she asks. It’s a family decision after all, has to be made over a piping hot cuppa.

Female solidarity is not reduced to a mere aesthetic in System, a legal-thriller fronted by powerhouse talents Sonakshi Sinha and Jyotika. Their first meet is more of a casual glance at each other. They are standing in front of a mirror in the ladies’ room, touching up. Sonakshi in a lawyer’s black overalls and Jyotika in a plain salwar kameez. Without resorting to any dialogue, Jyotika points at Sonakshi’s creased barrister-bands. The latter smoothens them. Jyotika gives a cordial smile and leaves.

Saif Ali Khan can’t scream. No, it’s not a physical impairment. What I mean is that he can’t scream for screen, the way a Hindi film hero screams to the heavens after a loved one is killed. He can’t seem to be able to do it convincingly, atleast not in the recently released OTT film Kartavya, a heartland crime-thriller cut from the same cloth as a Kohrra or a Paatal Lok. In a situation, around dead foes and a friend, Saif lets out a wail like he just stumbled upon the instruction from a cue card. It’s sudden, loud and has neither agony nor vengeance. It seems like a call for help.