Delhi Belly

Cast: Imran Khan, Vir Das, Kunaal Roy Kapur, Poorna Jagannathan; Music: Ram Sampath; Direction: Abhinay Deo

Abhinay Deo must be a fan of Coen Brothers.  The impersonation of the character Nitin is unmistakably that of Big Lebowski. However, the idea of ordinary people attempting and failing in crime is, thankfully, the only idea that Deo has borrowed from them. But then, there is so much more to this film than that. In Delhi Belly we get to see all you wanted to see in Indian cinema but were afraid to ask. It has profanity, sex (yes, including fake orgasm) and even jokes about excrement. Delhi Belly is a film that breaks all the traditions of a Bollywood film. And it does it with the flourish of Roland Emmerich. Manmohan Desai would have suffered a heart attack watching this film.
And another thing: Yes, yes...and this has been a relief. This film clears the doubt that has been lingering on my mind. In North India, people do live in squalid apartments with restricted water supply (whose roof cave in) and yes, there are cockroaches in some of their refrigerators. This clarity was crucial because the Johars and Chopras had confused a Chennai-born guy like me into thinking that all Hindi speaking people are rich. So rich that they lived in palatial mansions and travelled in helicopters and studied in London. Not quite apparently. At least not all of them it seems, if Abhay Deo is to be believed.

And yes, the actors don’t look good. They roam around with black eye, plastered face and bald head. There is no flaunting of six packs; if anything, there are only butt cheeks. And no heaving cleavages; only botched up oral job!

Delhi Belly breaks another tradition: The loud, lewd comedy of Hindi cinema. The Johnny Levers and Akshay Kumars and Priyadarshans have wrecked the genre so much that Hindi comedy had become quite allergic in recent years. Delhi Belly proves that even a joke about pooh can be made very subtle and enjoyable. In fact, the subtlety of these jokes is what makes you laugh the loudest. Because Deo doesn’t attempt to explain his jokes, as it is done usually in Indian cinema. It is sometimes necessary in order to reach a varied audience. But Deo is not aiming for them. He decided to narrow down his audience into the thinnest possible line. And he caters to them, amply.

The final word has to be about Poorna Jagannathan. Where was she all these years? And why are our directors stuck to actresses like Priyanka who has run out of her stock of emotions and Deepika, who can’t act to even save her life? Poorna is sexy and lively with such a perfect comic timing that you laughed by just seeing her close up shots. This is perhaps the first time where an actress was glamorous whilst being comical. Another tradition broken perhaps?

Delhi Belly succeeds in touching Tarantonian nerves in its profanity and singing ode to Coen Brothers whilst being firmly rooted in Delhi’s heart. Or perhaps in belly? 

Dhobi Ghat

Cast: Prateik Babbar, Amir Khan, Monica Dogra, Kriti Malhotra; Music: Gustavo Santaolalla; Direction: Kiran Rao

Dhobi Ghat reminds you of those French New Wave-inspired Hollywood films. A Requiem for a Dream here, an Everything Put Together there, and none of them in the intention of impersonating or feeling superior but, of creating a cleanest possible movie. The chosen model works big time. The quietness of the film is as calming to the senses as Kiran Rao had intended. Every frame recites a poem, just as Rao had planned. The silent moments of the lonesome painter looking through the window at the rainy Mumbai is so thoroughly satisfying that you don’t realise you’re actually watching a movie. Here’s a film where nothing much happens, at least not in the era of today’s Final Cut Pro obsessed directors: If a single frame stays on the screen more than three seconds, it’s considered a slow film. Viewers impatiently pick up their mobile and start fiddling around. If a single second goes by without background music, people start walking out of the cinema.

In Dhobi Ghat, some of the frames last as long as 10 seconds, and they end without any development. The music is by Gustavo Santaolalla, who has such an impressive CV with names such as Amores Perros and Motorcycle Diaries. Yet, metres of film reel pass by without any music. I didn’t care. For every such scene I was ever more thankful to Kiran Rao for respecting my senses, for calming me, and demonstrating that an interesting movie doesn’t have to be edited like MTV music video, nor should have someone constantly shouting at your ears. Dhobi Ghat is not just the most interesting movie of that year. But the most satisfying one too. If you were bored even in one scene, let me know.