Given Hindi cinema’s penchant for lavish spectacle and the commodification of love, trust Zoya Akhtar (along with frequent partner-in-prime Reema Kagti) to situate her long-form debut in the contours of this transactional tragedy. Made In Heaven uses the inherent fictions of wealth and social status – cleverly manifested by the Delhi wedding-planning business – to explore the fragile realities of human relationships. The triumph of the series is not only that it’s ‘snackable’ as a mealtime watch, but also that it’s tough to tell the flesh from the bone. The lushness of the weddings stays at odds with the palpable messiness of the people involved. As a result, the mainstream backdrop feels like a coping mechanism for the indie-styled protagonists. Their flashbacks reveal newer (and older) pieces of them, constructing and deconstructing them in sync with their episodic conflicts. It’s an intricate piece of packaging – not all of which is seamless (those obvious voice-overs, for example) – for the way it marries the universal to the specific. The heavily curated events inform the continuity of the individual threads but also vice versa, which is a testament to the makers’ sharp reading of societal paradoxes. After all, the term that ‘made in heaven’ is synonymous with – a match – also evokes trials, fire and trials by fire.
2. Gully Boy (2019)
As film critics, we often get asked that maddening question by someone who’s just heard about our job: “So what’s your favourite film?” That’s like asking a ship what its favourite drop in the ocean is. Or an airplane, what its most cherished speck of air is. But lately, I’ve started adding my own caveats: “You mean mainstream Hindi film, in the last 10 years?” Right, Gully Boy it is. That’s my final answer. (Can we speak about banking now?) Every time I watch Gully Boy, I marvel at its balance of energy, empathy, performances, rhythm and lived-in spirit. It’s not all vibes, as is invariably the case when directors break out of their comfort zones. I admire Akhtar’s versatility, yes, control, yes, but mainly her curiosity about a Mumbai that Bollywood enthusiasts never expected her to explore, especially given her image as a Rich-People’s-Problems storyteller. This narrative about a Muslim rapper from Dharavi is significant for many reasons, not least because Ranveer Singh’s career-best turn is barely the best in a film that’s bursting with characters and moments. This is essentially an Artist Story, which is why so much truth bleeds between film-maker and frames, between music and words, between fiction and feeling. I can go on about Alia Bhatt (and Akhtar’s integration of Bhatt’s reputation as a great crier into Safeena’s crafty persona) and Vijay Varma and Siddhant Chaturvedi and the sheer electricity of Singh’s closing act, but I’ll save it for the next time I’m asked that horrific question.
1. Luck By Chance (2009)
Now expand that question to: “So what’s your favourite Hindi film of the century so far?” And this is (mostly) my answer. Is there a fuller Bollywood movie about Bollywood? Akhtar’s first remains her finest and most perceptive film. It’s not surprising, because it is also perhaps her most personal, given her creative lineage. It ages like fine wine, too, as evident from the 20-odd times I’ve re-watched and renegotiated my relationship with it in terms of her evolving career. Luck By Chance is at once a near-perfect ode to, and an affectionate critique of, a film industry that’s constantly torn between heritage and posterity, between art and commerce. It has the most genuine opening credits in modern Hindi film; the meta casting of Farhan Akhtar (in his acting debut) and Konkona Sen Sharma is a masterstroke; the conflicts (especially the nepotism-vs-outsider punchlines) are prescient; the cameos are more than just flashy cameos. More importantly, despite being inspired by real-world experience, the film resists the gossipy tone that most movies about movies tend to use. Its gaze is infectious, insightful, complex and, at times, wickedly entertaining. The narrative opens and closes with the aspiring heroine, not the commercial ‘hero’ who hijacks her life and film – lending credence to the theory that Luck By Chance is in fact the woman’s story all along, one where she unearths the agency to own her destiny. Never has the backseat of Mumbai’s kaali-peeli taxi felt so hopeful.