Tatsam Mukherjee

One of the incidental pleasures of recent indie-horror films from around the world is how they’ve doubled down on the power of gaslighting. It’s chilling to see the psychological warfare unleashed on a person, enough to make them question their critical faculties and/or sanity. Why fear the monster under the bed, when family members and ‘well-meaning’ acquaintances can make up for it? The power of perception can be vital – which most people are discovering in the age of social media. Imbuing human paranoia into a folk horror-tale is one of the best decisions made by director-duo Danny and Michael Philippou in Bring Her Back – their sophomore film, after their clutter-breaking debut in Talk To Me (2023). Having started as YouTubers in Adelaide, the Philippou brothers soon showcased their knowledge about horror tropes. And they also know the points when most horror films take a leap of faith – and how ludicrous it looks. So the duo mine it for laughs. It’s another miracle of recent that instead of being rigid, indie-spirited horror films operate without any fear of flirting with their own formlessness.

The Indian farmers’ protest on Delhi’s borders in late 2020, was arguably the longest citizen-led protest in post-Independence India. Lasting a little over a year, weathering a bone-chilling winter and an equally oppressive summer, the farmers were labelled many things by the TV media: folks misunderstanding the government’s intentions to empower them, anti-social elements, even Khalistani terrorists. The protest sites invited the curiosity of documentarians: Nishtha Jain’s Farming The Revolution, Gurvinder Singh’s Trolley Times and Varrun Sukhraj’s Too Much Democracy were some of the films that chronicling the 13-month farmers’ agitation, interviewing them, getting experts to weigh in on initialisms (like MSP), and trying to understand the points of disagreement around the farm laws, which were hastily passed in the Parliament.

There’s nothing the makers of War 2 will not do to show the audience a good time. Affording stylish entry sequences to its stars, showcasing their well-sculpted bodies (including Kiara Advani in swim-wear, looking disturbingly photo-shopped), chase scenes in picturesque European cities borrowed from James Bond, Mission: Impossible and Jason Bourne films, dance-offs between its two nimble-footed male leads (Hrithik Roshan and NTR), patriotism, (cautious) pro-poor commentary, CGI wolves, B-movie twists, and flashbacks that put Ekta Kapoor’s soap-operas to shame. Sit back, and pick your poison. Directed by Ayan Mukerji, this sequel to Siddharth Anand’s 2019 film only cares about beauty, glamour, sleekness, and entertainment. And whatever it takes to engineer them. One might wonder why NTR is talking using a catch-phrase of a mass Telugu hero in RAW meetings. Or why Kiara Advani’s hair appears blow-dried in most scenes – even though a spy would prefer to have her hair tied (especially if she’s in the field). And then the ancient caveat dawned on me – how can anyone expect logic in a commercial film? Mukerji’s film sees everything only for its aesthetic value.

Shashi (Abir Chatterjee) is not the ‘hero’ we’re used to seeing in mainstream cinema. He comes off as someone perpetually irate at the people around him, but it’s probably his powerlessness that gives way to his anger. The one and only doctor in a tiny hamlet in West Bengal, despite his best attempts, Shashi is never able to meet his own expectations. In the film’s first scene – he discovers a dead acquaintance, killed by a bolt of lightning. The man was on his way to find an educated groom for his teen daughter. More than anger, Shashi is disappointed how a life is lost in search of a 10th-pass prospect.

My first reading of Agnes (played by Eva Victor) was that of a buoyant 30-something person struggling to hold on to her twenties, shirking responsibility of a long-term relationship (or anything that we consider ‘grown-up’), sleep-walking through a listless mid-career, and probably too afraid to leave the comfort of her surroundings. Living in a small home in New England, she’s visited by her best friend and former house-mate, Lydie (Naomie Ackie), a writer in New York, working on her next book. It appears some time has passed since they last met. As they catch up, Lydie talks about her book, and Agnes deflects any conversation about herself. I braced myself for a film that ends with Agnes acting like a responsible adult, exiting her dream world.

A child’s voiceover at the beginning of a horror/mystery film might not be the most novel choice, but there’s a way director Zach Creggers uses it in his second film, Weapons, in a matter-of-fact way, making it that much more eerie. Voiced by Scarlett Sher, the voiceover starts telling a story about a town where something strange happened, and the townsfolk were so embarrassed by the incident that they buried it within themselves. It’s a startling detail for a horror movie, where an untoward ‘supernatural’ incident becomes the cause of terror, haunted mansions and urban legends. But Cregger appears more interested in our human reaction – of shame, sadness and denial – to the said incident, refusing to articulate it to the rest of the world. It’s most apparent in the way Cregger uses George Harrison’s Beware of Darkness – probably too literal a choice for a horror film. However, it’s only when the mournful ballad plays as 17 school kids running with their arms spread out, disappear into darkness, is when we register the grief. As the opening voiceover warns us – this incident will never be solved.

Nothing underlines the wild, rebellious heart of Mari Selvaraj’s Pariyerum Perumal (2018) quite like Santosh Narayanan’s music. For example: during a stretch, when the hero (Kathir) and heroine (Anandhi) are spending time apart, after he’s warned by her father since they belong to different castes, the hip-hop song Naan Yaar starts playing to some dynamic visuals. As much as it’s about heartbreak, the sequence is also about the protagonist’s inner tussle with his own beliefs. Shazia Iqbal’s Dhadak 2, a Hindi adaptation of the 2018 Tamil film, uses a more conventional ballad (sung by Vishal Mishra) during this stretch, muting the male protagonist’s reckoning with his identity, replacing it with a more palatable subplot of aching, star-crossed lovers. The choice dilutes the source material’s counter-cultural intent, making it a more yielding piece of work.

Yes, I’m as surprised as any of you. Marvel’s lacklustre run since Avengers: Endgame (2019) has meant that Kevin Feige has been looking to consolidate for a while. He’s been badgered with constant firefighting that’s been needed since the sudden passing of Chadwick Boseman in 2020 (Black Panther), the abuse allegations against Jonathan Majors, who was playing Kang – supposed to be built up as the next big Marvel villain after Thanos – and the reality-check that Feige got for the female-led films like Black Widow (2020), The Marvels (2023), and a black Captain America (played by Anthony Mackie) – all of which turned out to be disappointments. Coupled with Marvel’s strained relations with director Ryan Coogler, actors Scarlet Johansson, Brie Larson, and the two main draws – Chris Evans and Robert Downey Jr sitting out (till RDJ was announced to return as Doctor Doom) – it all looked like the cinematic universe was too scattered. But that seemed to take a new turn with Thunderbolts*, which teased reinvention of the Marvel movies with almost a M Night Shyamalan-esque take on a superhero movie.