My Best and Worst of Movies in 2024 - Part I [Theatrical]

Taking into account that there are a good many lacunae in my movie viewing, this is the gist of my theatrical experiences in the year gone:

The Yays

UI - Upendra (Kannada)

It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but if S. Shankar and Alejandro Jodorowsky got together and made a movie, UI would be what emerged. In this day when everyone's making super-safe 'movies for dummies', this is an absolute triumph of audacity and divine madness from the maverick Upendra. Even seeing it in Kannada without any subtitles, this was probably the most awed I've been this year. Sadly though not surprisingly, it also seems to have bombed, going out of most cinemas in just a week.

Jagte Raho - Sombhu Mitra & Amit Maitra (Hindi)

OK, this is a cheat, since this movie originally came out in 1956. But the restored version was screened in cinemas this year. Raj Kapoor as an unknown struggler comes to a city and, in his quest for a drink of water, enters a resident colony where he gets taken for a thief and all manner of chaos results. Set in the course of a single night, the film is a satire on urban capitalist society and its sordid underbelly. Remarkably, Kapoor took a part where he is mute through most of the film. It's not perfect, and gets a little preachy towards the end (and the famous Nargis cameo, even though it looks gorgeous, feels like it came from another film altogether. But it's very interesting all the same, and I had a good time on the whole. The resto looks pretty good too in most part.

All We Imagine as Light - Payal Kapadia (Malayalam+Hindi)

My detailed take HERE

Kill - Nikhil Nagesh Bhat (Hindi)

Kill is probably the most fun I've had watching a Hindi movie in a long time. Up to half-way I was wondering if the reviews weren't exaggerating a little about the violence in this movie. But post-interval they crank it up to Holy Shit! levels. One scene with a fire extinguisher is bruisingly memorable. Compared to the bloated ass-fests that most new movies are, it's just a 106 min long and packed with badass action.

Furiosa: Mad Max - George Miller (English)

At nearly 2.5 hours, this film is significantly longer than Fury Road, with a lot of time spent on identifying different factions and their politics. It's not Shakespearean drama, some of it more in the vein of video game cut-scenes, but it's sufficiently punctuated with brilliant action to make the whole dish palatable, and Chris Hemsworth's Dementus is a pleasure.

Manjummel Boys - Chidambaram (Malayalam)

My detailed take HERE

The So-So's / Meh's

Aavesham - Jithu Madhavan (Malayalam)

I have to say that this Aavesham is marred by the 'anaavishyam' (excessive and unnecessary) amount of swag. YMMV. My detailed take HERE

Aadujevitham aka The Goat Life - Blessy (Malayalam)

My detailed take HERE

Merry Christmas - Shriram Raghavan (Hindi)

Mixed feelings. There's a neat little drama here, and a number of trademark Raghavan moments (the pre-interval portion is terrific!), but it's also significantly hobbled by a musical romance the director seems to believe in, but which did nothing for me. Still, you should watch it and make your own opinion. It should be at least better than the bigger movies on account of which it missed the Xmas release date it had been aiming for.

All We Imagine As Light [dir. Payal Kapadia]

"Hope" is the thing with feathers...

In the creative sphere, poet Emily Dickinson is rarely cited as anybody's conscious influence, but her most-quoted line hits upon such a fundamental truth, its underlying sentiment has powered almost every major humanist work in our world. Hope is truly what keeps us going, whether in terms of taking on herculean challenges, grappling with powerful opposing forces or even merely surviving. I realize this sounds like an overly profound opening; in that sense it mirrors Payal Kapadia piloting us into her film's world, the bustling Mumbai metropolis where millions jostle each other. Their thoughts spoken out Wings of Desire style, we hear these jostlers individually, taste their unique cocktails of despair and hope.

Then we zoom into a microcosm of this universe, the hospital - not by coincidence, a place of hope and healing - and our main characters Prabha, Anu and Parvathy. Prabha (Kani Kusruti, Girls will be Girls) and Anu (Divya Prabha, Ariyippu / Declaration), both nurses* and flatmates, are linked by their Malayali heritage. Prabha is senior in both age and rank, and serves as an elder sister / guardian to Anu. Prabha is married, but has not seen her husband , an expat worker in Germany, since many years; even the telephonic conversations have died off. Anu meets her Muslim boyfriend Shiaz in secret, certain that her parents will never approve of the match. The feisty Parvathy (Chhaya Kadam), a Maharashtrian who serves as cook at the hospital, has troubles of her own in the form of real estate bigwigs that are forcibly acquiring her tenement flat in the name of redevelopment. 

Prabha is like a forlorn flower, withered from the absence of romance. She is helpful and nurturing to her subordinates, but appears to have lost all hope of personal happiness. A message-less gift of a rice cooker is the only communication she has had in years from her absent spouse; one night, in an almost sexual manner, she hugs the appliance. But it also serves as a reminder of the obligation she has bound herself with - when the new doctor courts her, she gently brushes him off citing her married status. Anu is fresher, livelier. In her telephone conversations with home, she hides her relationship with Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon). During their clandestine meetings she is often the bolder party, talking dirty and initiating their lovemaking. But this boldness seems to come from a desperation to squeeze as much as she can from the relationship before its inevitable end. Parvathy comes across as more pragmatic than her educated colleagues - she is no defeatist for sure, but also sees no sense in prolonging a fight that cannot be won.

While episodic, All We Imagine...'s screenplay roughly has a three-part structure, one for each protagonist. The resolving act is spearheaded by Parvathy quitting her job and shifting back to her seaside village. Prabha and Anu help move her things (discovering in the process that she has shoplifted several hospital implements as 'souvenirs') and stay over. One evening a man is rescued from drowning, and Prabha uses her skills to tend to him, in a sense bringing him back to life. What follows between them is, depending on your POV, either a fantastic contrivance, a game of benevolent deceit or a fantasy playing in her mind. But it releases her from her emotional prison; she at last learns to love herself again. In the final scene, our three women are sitting side by side by the beach, their hearts at least for that moment in sync, fluttering with the thing called "Hope".

*Kerala in southern India is the biggest source of qualified nursing staff from the country.

MAMI 2024: Day One (19th Oct 2024) - Kneecap, The Room Next Door, On Becoming a Guinea Fowl, Émilia Pérez

My first day of attending the MAMI 2024 fest was spent at the old-skool Regal cinema in Colaba.

Kneecap (Zambia) [dir. Rich Peppiat]

My first movie of the fest, this tale of two delinquent youths and a language teacher with a mid-life crisis forming the titular Irish hip-hop band was a heartily welcomed crowd-pleaser - think The Full Monty meets Gully Boy with a healthy dash of Trainspotting. The surprising thing for me was to learn that it's based on an actual band and the members (Moglai Bap, Mo Chara and DJ Provai) play themselves. Michael Fassbender does an starry supporting part as an Irish rebel and father of one of the Kneecap-ers. It's very pat and cute, hinting at but never hitting any truly dark spots, but the movie acknowledges that in its cheeky intro referencing the stereotype of films about Belfast.

The Room Next Door (USA) [dir. Pedro Almodvar]

Death has been a recurring companion in Pedro Almodvar's films. In his English-language debut, it occupies center-stage. Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore are former colleagues and deep friends who just happened to have not met in years. Tilda is a war correspondent who discovers that she has grade III cancer. She is also estranged from her only child. She decides that she will not undergo further treatment and proposes to go to a secluded retreat where she will use an illegally procured euthanasia pill. She begs Julianne to be her 'room next  door' companion for these last days. Unlike Bergman's merciless incision into death in Cries and Whispers, Almodvar finds humor in Tilda's preparations for her suicide - her worries about forgetting to carry the pill, her instructions to Julianne about how she is to 'discover' and report her demise. There is an easy camaraderie between the veteran actresses that papers over the script's sketchiness about the closeness of their bond. John Turturro makes an appearance as a former lover to these women that has become a climate change pessimist - he's frankly an irritating guy, prating about the destruction of the planet while obviously practicing a lifestyle of conspicuous consumption.

On the whole this was a decent bleakly humorous drama, spoiled only by the epilogue in which Swinton, as per some unwritten clause in her contract, makes a second appearance as the estranged daughter, drawing attention to herself at the cost of the narrative.

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl (Zambia) (dir. Rungano Nyoni]

Writer-director Nyoni impressed me with her previous feature I'm Not a Witch (IANAW), a bleak, biting satire on the treatment of witchcraft-accused in Zambia. In Guinea Fowl, She once again explores the exploitation of women by traditional society. Shula (Susan Chardy), a modern self-assured woman working an international job (we see her doing a Zoom conference with colleagues across nationalities) is returning from a party when she sees a man lying dead on the road, who happens to be her uncle. This eventually leads to the family holding a customary funeral for the dead man. In the course of the ritual, which we see primarily as an exercise in the women feeding and serving the menfolk, a picture of the uncle as a serial abuser is revealed and suppressed traumas emerge. Watching it, I was reminded of Mira Nair's (IMO) overhyped Monsoon Wedding. But where Nair was content to have a pat resolution to a serious crime, Nyoni has a more open-ended, but also more openly angry protest against the patriarchal system that defends male oppressors and parasites (Shula's father keeps mooching money off her). It also helps that in Chardy (whose character name Shula is the same as IANAW's protagonist), she has a lead performance that screams star potential. I can't wait to see what these ladies do next.

Emilia Perez (Mexico) [dir. Jacques Audiard]

Emilia Perez is the crazy genre-bender a younger Almodvar might have made, if he was friends with Roberto Rodriguez. Described as a 'musical crime comedy', the movie opens with skilled legal understudy Rita Mora (Zoe Saldana, not hidden under prosthetics or motion-capped like in her major franchise movies) being hired by gangster 'Manitas', an intimidating presence with his large frame, grotesque silver-capped teeth and propensity for violence. Not to defend him in court, no, but to find a skilled surgeon for the sex change operation he desires. You see, our Manitas wants to become a woman and fake his death to move to a new life. Lured by the lucre, Rita fulfills his task, and also arranges to send away his wife and children  to Europe during the process, ostensibly for their safety.

Cue a few years later, Rita meets the charismatic Emilia Perez, who reveals herself as the former Manitas. Emilia wishes to renew their acquaintance for the purpose of bringing her family back to Mexico. Posing as 'Aunt Emilia', Perez welcomes the family with open arms. They're more hesitant, though: the kids miss skiing in Switzerland, and wife Jessi (Selena Gomez) is in a relationship. Emilia has changed in other ways too: she becomes a celebrity social worker, using her laundered funds to make a foundation to locate missing people feared to have been killed in gang encounters. Perez even develops an attraction to one of her clients (Adriana Paz). But when Jessi announces her intention to re-marry and move away with the kids, Emilia snaps and all hell breaks loose.

Emilia Perez's narrative is presented in brilliant opera fashion, its choreographed song and dance routines wonderfully melding the romantic melodrama aspects with the crime backdrop. Saldana seems to be having a lot more fun than in her superhero Hollywood outings, but the film's biggest star is of course Karla Sofia Gascon in the title role. The film mirrors elements of the actor's life and she plays both Manitas and Emilia superbly. Yes, it's melodramatic and calls for some significant suspension of disbelief, but embraces its kitsch with a sincerity that triumphs over all else. Viva Emilia!

Raayan [dir. Dhanush]

In terms of plot, Dhanush's Raayan (which he has directed himself) is a fairly standard mainstream action movie. A B&W prologue establishes that the lead character Kathavaraayan aka Raayan, after the disappearance of his parents, becomes responsible for his younger siblings - two boys and an infant girl - and will go to any lengths to protect them.

The boy grows up to be Dhanush, who runs a food stall and conceals his toughness under a meek exterior (but he still has a reputation for being a badass). His brothers Muthuvel and Manickavel (Sundeep Kishan and Kalidas Jayaram) are more reckless and frequently get into scrapes. The sister Durga (Dushara Vijayan) is the apple of Raayan's eye, and he is closer to her than the brothers. They have a father-figure in Sekhar (Selvaraghavan) who'd helped Raayan out after he escaped from his village as a child with his siblings.

The main plot is driven by a devious police commissioner (Prakash Raj, stereotyped but effective) that engineers a quarrel between local dons Durai and Sethu (Saravanan and SJ Suryah) with the idea of eliminating them both. One of Dhanush's brothers gets somehow implicated in this quarrel. To protect the family, especially the sister scheduled to be married, Dhanush has to kill one of the dons. This sets into motion a second set of events, one that tears the family apart, and ignites a trail of bloody vengeance.

Raayan's script is a mixed bag: on one hand it's filled with the usual cliches and eye-rolling contrivances of a star-driven film, but on the other, it explores nuances not normally seen in mainstream masala. The dynamics between the brothers, and the transformation of the hitherto pampered sister into an avenging angel justifying her name infuses freshness into the stereotypes - Dushara Vijayan in the film's second half is a revelation - the scene where Durga fends off an attack by goons on a mortally wounded Raayan is nail-biting, and she becomes the main driving force of the vendetta. One applauds Dhanush for permitting her to overshadow his own character. Even the shading of the bad guys is interesting - there's some wicked humor courtesy Suryah's Sethu getting buffeted between his two wives.

There is also some serious visual chutzpah on display, especially in the action scenes and the choreographed festive number that comes late in the film. Om Prakash's cinematography uses overhead tracking shots, slow motion and colors in spectacular ways. If Raayan's script had lesser concessions to 'mass' pandering this could have been an amazing masala movie. But it still has several moments of interest, per se.

Swords of Vengeance aka Fall of Ako Castle [dir. Kinji Fukasaku]

The legend of the 47 Ronin is one of the most celebrated in Japanese history. Briefly, after their master Lord Asano is forced by decree to commit sepukku / hara-kiri as penance for an altercation in the Shogun's court, the warriors of Ako castle plotted and carried out revenge against the person they held responsible for the altercation. By this action they also registered their protest against the Shogunate for its wrongful verdict. Interpreted as a symbol of adherence to the Samurai honor code and extrapolated to patriotic fervor, the story has had countless adaptations in Japanese popular culture including at least half a dozen film versions, some by celebrated makers like Kenzi Mizoguchi (Ugetsu, Sansho the Bailiff) and Hiroshi Inagaki (Samurai trilogy). I haven't seen any of these previous films, and if the idea of Mizoguchi, known more for his feminist melodramas, making a Samurai vendetta flick seems somewhat preposterous (it's like if Douglas Sirk made The Dirty Dozen or Kamal Amrohi made Sholay) one can take comfort in knowing that this was also the opinion expressed by Akira Kurosawa (interestingly enough Kurosawa himself never undertook to adapt this tale).

Kinji Fukasaku (Battle Royale), who was invited by Toei Company to make Fall of Ako Castle (FoAK) was also an odd choice for this prestige production.While he has worked multiple genres, Fukasaku is best known for his  low-budget contemporary chaotic Yakuza dramas like Battles without Honor and Humanity (which spawned a series), Graveyard of Honor and Yakuza Graveyard. His protagonists come from the dark edges of society - violent gangsters, deranged cops, prostitutes and molls. His crime flicks are shot in a jagged cinema vérité style, with unbridled emotional energy and lots of handheld camera movement.

FoAK is only the second jidaigeki (period drama) in Fukasaku's career. It is certainly amusing to see characters in the opening of a Fukasaku film swaddled in ornate kimonos, adhering to the courtly etiquette of 18th century Japan. Lord Asano (Teruhiko Saigo) is seen to attack the influential courtier Lord Kira (Nobuo Kaneko) after the latter insults him. Although he only wounds the man, the display of violence in the royal court is a shameful affair. As per the royal decree, Lord Asano must kill himself, and his clan is ordered to be disbanded, leaving his loyal retainers leaderless.

Furious at the forced suicide of their master, the Ako clan warriors led by chief retainer Oishi (Yorozuya Kinosuke) wish to kill Lord Kira. But the latter, after being relived of his duties - in itself, an admission by the Shogunate of the one-sidedness of its verdict - lives in a protected citadel with his spies constantly monitoring Ako castle. Oishi instructs the clan members to lay low, pretending to accept the Shogun's verdict, till the time is right for action.

It is nearly two years before the moment comes. During this period, the Ako clan members become ronin (clan-deprived warriors), struggling to fend for their families, while Oishi seems to sink into debauchery. South East Asian film expert Tony Rayns in his video essay for FoAK states that in this while, the clan eroded from an original 600 members to the final number of the legend. Fukasaku personifies this in the character of an ex-Ako warrior whose belief in the cause fails after he suffers humiliating penury where his wife must sell her body to support the family. Sonny Chiba plays another Ako-ite who remains loyal to the clan and shows his mettle in the final revenge, while Toshiro Mifune makes an appearance as a warlord sympathetic to the Ako cause. Non-Japanese viewers only familiar with Chiba and Mifune's names may be disappointed to find that they have limited screen time (adding all his footage, Mifune probably has less than 2 min).

At long last, Oishi gives the call for revenge, and the remaining squad of Ako loyalists launch a full-scale raid on Lord Kira's stronghold. After they fulfill their mission, they surrender to the Shogunate which, in tacit sympathy with their honor code, does not order for their execution; instead, it permits them to commit honorable ritual suicide. Their bodies were later buried with that of their late lord in Sengaku-ji temple, where they are still commemorated.

FoAK has the pedigree of a bonafide epic (aided in no small measure by the cinematography of Yoshio Miyajima, who worked on several of Masaki Kobayashi's classic films), but somewhere in all the grandeur, its soul gets stifled. Not that the film is devoid of good moments - the panic of the Ako retinue outside the palace wanting to know the fate of their master, the initial failed attempt to assassinate Lord Kira, the relentless climactic assault are rendered with Fukasaku's trademark vitality. The fate of the Samurai whose life and faith crumble to circumstances during the terrible waiting period also generate empathy. But the political drama is stuffy, and the majority of characters are overly familiar archetypes whose actions and fate fail to engage us. This lack of grip means that nearly 160 min runtime hangs heavy, and I found my attention repeatedly wandering. Your mileage may vary.

A few words about the blu-ray from Eureka Entertainment:

The film is presented as part of Eureka's prestigious Masters of Cinema series. The back cover simply says "Presented in 1080p HD from a restoration of the original film elements by Toei [Studios]", but this is a handsome video presentation with lush colors and filmic texture. There may be a slight green tint, as often seen in vintage Japanese movies, which may be endemic to the source. The lossless Japanese mono audio is strong in terms of dialog, sound effects and the eclectic score (Toshiaki Tsushima). On-disc extras include a video essay by Japanese film expert Jasper Sharp, but what I loved was Tony Rayns' supplement, which is a masterclass on the true history of the 47 Ronin legend and the multiple adaptations of it in theater and cinema. The included booklet features an essay by Jonathan Clements, which talks about the disagreement between Fukasaku and lead star Kinnosuke, which may have led to the tonal discrepancies in the film. The cover features vintage poster art on the reverse side. While the film was not entirely satisfactory to me, this blu-ray release is highly recommended to people who are already fans or want to check it out.

The Queen of Spades [dir. Thorold Dickinson]

Based on a story by the famous Russian author Alexander Pushkin, 1949's The Queen of Spades (QoS) is a fabulist melodrama on the themes of want and greed. When the Russian captain Suvorin (Anton Walbrook) visits the clubs where women and wine are aplenty, and games of chance are played, he himself refrains from gambling. Unlike his rich royalty-descended fellow-soldiers, he must scrimp and save for his future. In his own words he cannot afford to 'risk the necessary for the lure of the superfluous'.

In a tome purchased from a rather sinister (one could say Mephistophilean) bookseller, he learns the story of a certain countess Ranevskaya (Dame Edith Evans), who after selling her soul to the devil, obtains the secret of winning at cards. He becomes obsessed with extracting the secret from the Countess, now aged and crippled, yet still a strong-willed dominating woman (and looking rather like a Queen of Spades). He decides to make his way to the Countess by seducing her ward Lizaveta (Yvonne Mitchell). Liza is an innocent, bullied by the Countess who uses her as a lady's maid, and not wise to the ways of wily men. She succumbs to Suvorin's (copied) passionate love messages and secretively admits him into the house.

Suvorin instead makes his way to the Countess' room, to beg her to tell him the secret. He first offers to take her sin upon his head, then threatens her with his pistol. The countess falls dead from fear, and a frazzled Suvorin runs to Liza's room where he confesses all. Disgusted to learn the true motives for his 'passion' and his role in the Countess' death, Liza asks him to get out of the house and her life.

Later, Suvorin gets (or imagines?) a visitation from the dead Countess, who gives him the secret of the winning cards (Three...Seven...Ace), on condition that he marry her ward. He tries desperately to mollify Liza but is soundly rejected. Armed with the Countess' secret, he draws out his life's savings and enters the club. In a febrile humor, he plays a succession of games, each time betting the total of his previous winnings. In the third and last game, when he thinks he has the winning ace, he reveals his card, only to find that it is the Queen of Spades. He has been damned.

QoS is less a horror film than The Innocents (1961), more a fevered melodrama with supernatural underpinnings. Incidentally, Jack Clayton who directed that one was associate producer here. Director Thorold Dickinson (who was apparently hired only a few days before shooting began) generates, through deep focus and shadowy corners (DoP Otto Heller), an atmosphere of eerie unease that surely inspired Clayton (as does the impressive production design, contrasting the Countess' overbearingly lavish homestead with Suvorin's bare quarters). Anton Walbrook and Edith Evans are the two main cornerstones in the cast, and they are terrific in their respective parts. I also love that Suvorin's greed comes from his hatred of his circumstances and the derision he faces from his more prosperous fellowmen at the cards table. If I have any complaint, it is only that in the quest for a more cheerful final image, the film focuses on its least interesting characters.

But if B&W gothic melodramas are your thing, then you definitely need to deal yourself this hand.

A few words on the UK blu-ray from Studio Canal:

The disc boasts a terrific transfer, equaling Criterion's work on The Innocents, if we're talking B&W masterpieces. Comparing with screenshots of the earlier Kino Lorber release, I'd say the image is appreciably refined with better contrast and grain resolution. The lossless mono audio is clear, both dialog and the evocative audio effects (the scene where Suvorin hears the thump of the ghostly Countess' walking stick and the swish of her gown approaching his room is a sterling example). Extras include a commentary track, multiple featurettes, and archival audio interviews with the director. There is also a slim booklet included in the case. The slipcover is useless for me as it's the same front and back image as the inside cover.

Love, Sex aur Dhokha - 2 [dir. Dibakar Banerjee]

If one were to look for a common thread in all of Dibakar Banerjee aka DB's filmography (at least the  full-length features), it would be the interplay between truth and deceit. His comedies Khosla ka Ghosla! and Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!  prominently feature swindlers that live by pulling the wool over people's eyes. The characters are either deceiving someone else or blinding themselves to reality for the sake of wealth / happiness. Shanghai and Detective Byomkesh Bakshi! have protagonists driven by a search for the truth hidden behind the wall of deceit. In the fitfully interesting Sandeep aur Pinky Faraar (which was almost buried for want of takers) the characters are a bit of both. It would appear that, like his favorite detective, Mr. Banerjee is also through his films a 'Satyanweshi' (Truth-Seeker).

The first Love, Sex aur Dhokha (LSD) featured the camera as its ultimate protagonist, both an unbiased observer and a tool of deceit. In the world of 2010, it was handycams, CCTV and sting operations with hidden cameras that provided the voyeuristic view. 14 years later in LSD-2 (aka Like-Share-Download), it is reality TV, mobile phone cameras, virtual worlds and live-streaming / social media coverage that peers into our lives.

LSD-2's first episode focuses on Noor (Paritosh Tiwari), who after undergoing gender change surgery is now a participant in a talent show called Truth or Dance. Here the participants, challenged to dance or reveal a sensational truth about themselves, constantly work to up their audience ratings with emotional hooks. By choice I am not a major consumer of reality TV outside of cooking competitions, but this segment recalled my skims of shows like Kaun Banega Crorepati and  India's Best Dancer when sitting with mum, their naked attempts to hold audience interest by milking sob stories or generating "behind-the-stage" content that's supposedly candid/unrehearsed. Noor's game is to bring in the mother (Swaroopa Ghosh) she has not spoken to in years, and who still refers to her as male. Their on-camera meeting is all sugary tears, but behind it is a still uneasy alliance, forged not so much by rekindled love as an arrangement to share fame and money. Noor is also desperate for her lover, a co-participant on the show, to publicly acknowledge her. Banerjee's script - with co-writers Shubham and Prateek Vats - fluidly mixes Noor's growing destabilization with the on-camera drama she generates for audience points (with cheeky references to notorious Indian reality TV imbroglios like 'Iske oopar nahin bolne ka!'). He brings the proceedings to a furious boil, aided in no small measure by terrific performances from Tiwari and Ghosh as the estranged mother-son/daughter joined only by their common greed.

Episode 2 has Swastika Mukherjee as Lovina, manager for a social work outfit integrating transgenders into mainstream employment. When one of their subjects Kullu (Bonita Rajpurohit), a Delhi Metro attendant, is found raped and beaten, Lovina raises hell with lax law authorities demanding a full-scale investigation. But the truth is more complicated and it's not a black and white world. Lovina finds herself backed into a corner to get out of which she herself must play the games of power. This segment is remarkable mainly for how nuanced its characters are. Their natures are neither good nor evil, only human (with all that the term implies).

The last segment is probably what will polarize most viewers with its stratospheric launch into surrealism. Live-streamer Game-paapi (Abhinav Singh) garners a following for his channel where he dispenses macho trash-talk while playing a Counter-Strike clone shooter. When an anonymous hacker posts sleazy morphed pictures of GP in a homosexual context, he is outraged. But this makes for a giant spike in his online viewership, leading to sponsorship deals linked to his "new identity" as an LGBT spokesperson.Tormented by the insult to his heterosexual masculinity and the fickle warping of his 'social influencer' career, GP is driven to madness and even death...or is it? Banerjee here goes into full bore whatever the fuck mode, bringing in cyber messiahs and virtual celestial worlds. I can't say it made a lot of sense to me, on the other hand I couldn't help but admire his courage in pulling out something so audacious.

As my previous review would show, I wasn't too thrilled by the first LSD. The sequel on the other hand proved far more gripping and imaginative, maybe even profound. No late cash-in this, but a strong return to form for the auteur. Showing now on Netflix: