The Best Bollywood Films Of 2018

Ten films that told thrilling tales with terrific performances. Ten films that need to be celebrated for breaking boundaries. Bring on the applause. 

10- Sanju

Dir- Rajkumar Hirani

This is a seriously flawed film, an unabashedly whitewashed portrait of a controversial Bollywood leading man. Then again, we were perhaps naive to expect a deconstructionist biopic when the man at helm is one of our most adroitly manipulative storytellers. However, it is hard to deny that Sanju, regardless of its sincerity, is pot-boiler cinema served with stirring, if overwhelmingly dramatic, conviction. Ranbir Kapoor pulls of a staggeringly anti-heroic portrait of Sanjay Dutt with charisma and credibility and is ably anchored by Vicky Kaushal's infectiously endearing Kamlesh, working as the film's skewed moral compass, and Hirani's uncanny ability to wring out tears and laughs at the most unexpected moments.

9- Bhavesh Joshi Superhero

Dir- Vikramaditya Motwane

Not many watched Vikramaditya Motwane's well-intentioned and convincingly performed, if slightly unwieldy, drama that, contrary to its sensationalist title, explores quite nimbly just what vigilantism means in India today. Armed with subversive digs at toxic jingoism and petty bureaucracy so ubiquitous in our country, the film first portrays how young idealism falls at the face of brutal realities; the slickly shot second half ratchets up a blissfully dreamlike masked avenger yarn with some spiffy action and a climax that actually makes sense. It is just the probing, subtly incisive and even coolly sardonic slice of agitprop cinema that we need in a screen flooded with bluster. 

8- Manto

Dir- Nandita Das

Nandita Das' well-crafted Manto, populated with an incredible ensemble of cameos, proves that some of the most intriguing biopics portray both the illustrious genius and personal demons of their subjects. It shows just how much of his own predicament and dark inspiration did the Urdu legend Saadat Hasan Manto pour into his brutally beautiful tales that stunned readers and cynics alike. Traversing between the cinematic glory of 1940s Bombay and drunken disillusionment in post-partition Lahore, between real violence and their vivid scenes in his pages, this mesmeric film, propelled by Nawazuddin Siddiqui's compulsive, thrillingly unyielding performance, shows that even a mind raging with brilliance can be a No Man's Land. 

7- Manmarziyaan

Dir- Anurag Kashyap

He might have landed more powerful punches with his other powerful cinematic outing this year but it is Manmarziyaan that lingers as the more slyly subversive film from Anurag Kashyap. Written cleverly by Kanika Dhillon, spiced with a mustard-scented Punjabi flavour and armed with the most rambunctious and enthralling soundtrack this year, this seemingly linear post-modern romance tweaked and twisted its own regular tropes. As Kashyap plunges us into the swirling romantic ambiguity of the bold and bubbly Rumi (a fiery Tapsee Pannu), we are also challenged, compellingly to decide between heady, reckless love (an infectiously spunky Vicky Kaushal) and a marriage of gentlemanly courtship (a surprisingly charming and vulnerable Abhishek Bachchan). 

6- Stree

Dir- Amar Kaushik

Like the other subversive horror film in this list, Amar Kaushik's directorial debut has a lot more on its mind than just yet another parody of the genre. Stree, set in a town full of pig-headed cuckolds, is not just a film with real smarts but also real stakes and a very resonant statement for today's times. The film balances, with admirable neatness, both effectively pulpy jump scares and cheeky, even ironic, laughs and even pads both the terror and tomfoolery with well-aimed jabs at sexism and misogyny. The always stellar Rajkummar Rao leads a fascinating ensemble, rounded out with small but sensational turns from Pankaj Tripathi and Vijay Raaz. Yes, even Shraddha Kapoor looks endearing this time around. 

5- Raazi

Dir- Meghna Gulzar

Patriotic cinema, in today's time, is crammed with chest-thumping jingoism. That is only one reason as to why Raazi, directed with rare sensitivity by Meghna Gulzar, stands out. As the story of a brave-hearted yet believably tormented girl who spies on her own family to do her duty to the nation, it is unexpectedly a superbly balanced and even poignant meditation on just what patriotism, on both sides, means and the unbearable sacrifice that it demands. On top of that, it is a reasonably grown-up drama of espionage and the moral compromises that it entails. And, most notably, it is shouldered more than capably by Alia Bhatt turning in a performance of courage, grace and pathos. 

4- Pataakha

Dir- Vishal Bhardwaj

Great filmmakers take the bare bones of a story and flesh it with something ingenious and intelligent. Full marks should be given rightfully to the assuredly eclectic Vishal Bhardwaj to turn a mere 6-page short story about quarrelling sisters into the most sparkling comedy this year. As Champa and Genda (played with furious and combustible spontaneity by newcomer Radhika Madan and Sanya Malhotra) fight over beedis, boyfriends and even budding aspirations, the director fashions Orwellian metaphors on the love-hate dynamic between us and our neighbour across the border. It is a rough-edged gem of a film decorated with devilish quirks, dialogues that you can quote and a character named Dipper, so called for his blinking eyes. 

3- Tumbbad

Dir- Rahi Anil Barve and Adesh Prasad

2018 was a year of exemplary accomplishments but of them all, it was Tumbbad that deserves the highest praise for breaking ground with phenomenal effect. Horror cinema in our country is inevitably schlocky and almost intentionally mediocre but this ambitious, atmospheric and meticulously crafted period piece delivered more than just eerie chills and full-blown monster mayhem that would do Guillermo Del Toro proud. Shot with a pulse-pounding beauty and intensity by the extraordinary Pankaj Kumar and graced with a lean yet beautifully cryptic narrative that has even the allegorical symbolism of There Will Be Blood, Barve and Prasad's film bleeds with pure sensation, with horror and wonder at everything unearthly, with irony and disgust at the depths of human greed.

2- Mukkabaaz

Dir- Anurag Kashyap

An enthralling drama that equates boxing superbly with the everyday battles of life and livelihood. A sardonic and unsparing indictment of the corruption and mediocrity found in sport in our nation. A full-throated cry of defiance against the prevalent communalism and casteism. Anurag Kashyap's Mukkabaaz is all these powerful and punchy films at the same time. But above all, it is an incredible romance, a love story with such stirring wit, warmth and despair, that you root for it to win against all the insurmountable odds. The vivacious Zoya Hussain speaks volumes with only her eyes, Jimmy Shergill is frighteningly good as the monstrous villain named Bhagwan and Vineet Kumar Singh makes for an unforgettably rough but rousing hero who fights back for glory and dignity. 

1- Andhadhun

Dir- Sriram Raghavan

At the top of a monumental pile of brilliance sits Sriram Raghavan's astounding, always startling Andhadhun, a film which will be rightfully treasured as the Bollywood thriller to beat all Bollywood thrillers, even as the legacy of Johnny Gaddar, from the same maker, will remain intact. Indeed, not since then has there been a potboiler so assuredly intuitive, so wickedly inventive and so intelligent as to trust its audiences to assemble the jigsaw puzzle themselves, even as it keeps on pulling every conceivable rug beneath their feet. 

It is also a giddily sinful pleasure to see it turn from a whodunnit into something else completely, staying devilishly one step ahead of us always. Meanwhile, we are spellbound by the beautifully melodic twists and turns, the undisguised affection for vintage Bollywood, quirks that feel almost surreal and the kind of audaciously brilliant writing that we just don't see much of these days. Add to that a cocksure blind pianist and also an ensemble of uniformly fantastic actors playing self-serving yet slippery characters that we need not talk much about, including one of our greatest actresses in crackling form, and we get more than what we bargained for, a film impossible to look away from. Watch it once to be bowled over, watch it again to believe what you just saw. 

The Fallen Idol: The Terrifying Tale Of A Boy Who Saw Too Much

One of my favourite scenes from Sriram Raghavan's brilliant Andhadhun is one in which a character, who has, unexpectedly, seen too much, visits the police station to report what he should not have seen. It is a particularly telling moment, as is a scene some minutes later when an elderly lady, who happened to have seen too much as well, nudges an indifferent policeman to ask a few more questions, as she puts it, casually. When we have seen, or rather think that we have seen, more than what we imagine, we become more than just amateur detectives. We are also keen to point fingers, to accuse and we won't sit still until we are satisfied with any stray piece of evidence, even if it does not lead us to the truth. 

When reviewing that magnificent film, perhaps one of the finest thrillers from Hindi cinema for a long, long time, I referenced Sir Carol Reed's The Third Man, a superlative whodunnit in its own right, and even in that indelible film, the very idea of 'seeing is believing' is turned recklessly, anarchically on its head as the truth turns out to be something darker, nastier altogether. A tightly wound and flawlessly scripted conspiracy thriller with a very believably dystopian milieu, Reed's film ranks as one of the most exhilarating and eye-opening potboilers of the silver screen. Yet, I am here not to talk about that much lauded, much quoted masterpiece. Instead, I am here to gush with love about an earlier, relatively lesser-known gem from the same geniuses who produced that marvel. 

Based on Graham Greene's disquietingly dire short story The Basement Room, The Fallen Idol, the first of the three crackerjack collaborations between the legendary writer of suspense and drama and director Reed, is a scarily superb thriller and, unexpectedly, a terrifying moral drama with a very real sense of dread, guilt and catharsis. Helmed with Reed's trademark brisk yet beautifully nuanced vigour and with a concise,  script by Greene with devilishly brilliant tweaks in his own original tale, this is a more internalised yet equally intelligent and incisive film and one that too is all about the fallacy of seeing more than what you ought to see. No wonder then that it also popped up in Raghavan's personal list of thrillers that we all ought to watch. 

In a large magisterial house on Grosvenor Square in busy and bustling London, Phillippe, a 7-year old boy, is blissfully alone for the weekend. His parents will be returning on Monday; he is left alone with his boyhood hero and idol Baines, the dainty and charismatic butler of the house but he also has to avert the stern and domineering gaze of Mrs. Baines, who strides down the staircases and floors of the temporarily empty house with a suspicious and malevolent eye. And so, one fine afternoon, already disillusioned with her overbearing discipline, Philipe sprints out into the sunlight and streets and sees something that he should not have seen. 

What follows is a sinful pleasure that is best read and experienced on your own, a tersely absurd, wickedly cynical yarn that hovers delicately on a tripwire of lies, lies tossed recklessly and carelessly to protect a clandestine truth. This is also a film about secrets, confidences that adults share too easily or unwittingly with children and also about how these very confidences demand more lies at which nobody is good at. 

I would urge you all to read the short story first and then discover the film with both its unprecedented narrative direction and ardent faith to the source. The story, with Greene's customary skill at portraying the many shades of moral greyness, is a darker, meaner tale; the film, on the other hand, is enlivened with Reed's lighter, more upbeat tenor and little touches of quirk and humour. London at night is a darker, more foreboding and alienating city in the story while it becomes more vivid and picturesque in the film, from the sweeping balcony views of the Square in the morning to the sun-kissed frolic of a holiday at the Zoo. 

But what is most intriguing to discover, when discovering both the story and the film simultaneously, is the brilliant twist in the crucial incident that propels the rest of the plot, devised by the irascibly brilliant Greene himself in the adapted screenplay. In the story, what happens is unmistakable in its concise, cathartic, crystal-like clarity; in the film, meanwhile, what a character sees and imagines is completely opposite of what is the truth and you will be wracked by the director's gradually escalating sense of dread, as you wish for the truth hidden so salaciously to come tumbling out for some relief. 

What further makes the film hum and throb like immaculate clockwork is the excellently chosen cast. The legendary thespian Sir Ralph Richardson is compellingly poignant as the broken yet big-hearted Baines, an eternal sufferer like Greene's many unforgettable anti-heroes, even given to pompous, heroic exploits like the ludicrously charming Major Jones in The Comedians, yet endowed, as with that ill-fated scrounger, with a heart of profound pathos. Sonia Dresdel's Mrs. Baines is as tough-willed and adroit as her devilish yet all too believable counterpart in the story; she is as full of 'cruelty and misery' as she has to be. And thank heavens that Reed and Greene give her even more meaty malice on the screen, too, including that startling scene with a hair-pin that is kept intact. 

What works best in The Fallen Idol, as in The Basement Room, is the crucially slippery and easily mollycoddled character of Phillippe. The film casts him, in a subversive stroke, as French, which also heightens his childlike inability to understand the moral duplicity at the crux of the film that feels distinctly English; it also lends him with a grudgingly hidden secret that he stashes away from Mrs. Baines' all-knowing eyes. But as in the story, Phillippe's naive willingness to be a part of the grown-up world around him is what drives him to the moment of shocking revelation. Played with confidence and disarming ease by Bobby Henrey, as an evidence of Reed's uncanny flair at handling knee-high performers, Phillippe is the tormented soul of the film and the story, the boy who saw too much for his and others' good. 

I have watched this film twice and read the story more than twice. And I cannot help but rediscover them again, just to make sure that what I read or what I saw was exactly what had happened. That is what I would advise to you as well. Keep your eyes wide open and don't forget to read between the lines.