Raman Raghav 2.0- A Bloody Gaze At The Abyss

'Red like jungle burning bright', sang a blonde-pated David Bowie back in the 80s, as the title song for the horror classic 'Cat People'. In the present day, Anurag Kashyap unleashes a red-eyed monster for our times, straight out of a slasher gore-fest of the 80s, with a name that belonged to a real-life murder of yore. The film announces its bawdy, lurid intentions right from the rollickingly coked-up beginning- 'Raman Raghav 2.0' is not, as one would assume, based on the infamous eponymous serial killer who prowled and preyed upon the streets and its sleepers in the Technicolor Bombay of the 60s. 

No, rather, this is its own beast and even as its gloriously psychopathic protagonist (or protagonists) may borrow actions and deranged decisions from the namesake, he himself is a freewheeling creature of the night, a freak of nature red in tooth and claw.

It is this bold, cocky impulse to break the mould of fact and to go beyond the genre rules that makes Kashyap's film bloody brilliant- a terse, sweltering and often sombre celebration of nihilism and a stark portrait of an urban society soaked in brutality.

It begins with a breakneck start- a cop chopping up lines of coke and then messing it all up, as it goes up his hungry nostrils. The film, shuffling between the twin character strands, gains the simmering intensity of a finely sculpted David Fincher or Michael Mann police procedural. However, 'Raman Raghav 2.0' smashes these walls and turns out to be something headier than just a line of coke.

Ramanna, a red-eyed tramp without shelter or refuge, loves to kill. That is all he knows, perhaps- though he also knows how to deliver a monologue or even cook chicken gravy. For all his blood-thirst, he is also surprisingly clumsy and yet endowed with a plucky spirit that makes him survive and even evade capture. Yet, he is himself driven towards a single goal- to meet and look up to one man who has somehow impressed his strange tastes.


That man turns out to be Raghav, a rugged cop who is doggedly handling the case even as struggling with his own inner demons. Caught in a peculiar sexual affair with a woman he picked up at a disco not so long ago, he is also an unscrupulous enforcer who would not hesitate to shed some blood to make his ends meet. Kashyap and co-writer Vasan Bala sneaks up to and sticks stealthily with these two damaged men as they inevitably come closer to each other in a perfect, homoerotic union. The director has claimed, in a flash of irony, that this might be his most romantic film. Oh, hold on. It is.

Even with the morally queasy premise that it presents, which turns darker and grimmer with each turn, this is a film which does not skimp on style. Sure, Jay Oza's textured, immersive cinematography ducks and sneaks over many a harsh urban cityscape- grimy, underlit ghettoes, shoddy residences and sordid suburban wastes- but it is also mesmeric, even elegiac in its brutality. The way he and Kashyap bring unexpected texture to the morally blank proceedings is astounding-  from glistening sweat after rough, loveless sex to aeroplanes sweeping over murky tenements. Unlike the similarly nihilistic and equally powerful 'Ugly', which looked on baldly at an unfurnished world of scoundrels, this is a sexy, gorgeous film.

However, everything else is far from gorgeous. This is indeed a brutal, bloody, visceral experience and 'Raman Raghav 2.0' does not stray away from the thudding core of psychopathic rage at its core. The murders are grisly, shocking but Kashyap never overplays it- his violence is aptly unsettling but resonant and never gratuitous. There is no thrill in Ramanna's exploits- no guilty pleasure in his outraged bursts or in the sound of metal pounding human flesh. Yet, the twisted yet finely edited narrative is even more shocking in its brutal indictment of society as one rotten from the core. The dialogue- from raw rapid-fire bursts of acid and arsenic to Ramanna's revealing, intelligent ramblings on nature of life-is hard-hitting in its power while the themes it tackles with bold bravado are searing.

Kashyap has always been an ardent cinephile but while 'Raman Raghav 2.0' is mostly stripped of film-referencing indulgence, the nods that make it are pointed and sensational in their usage. We get a hint of a notoriously gruesome scene from 'Apocalypse Now', here made more startling with a pair of sunglasses and a killer one-liner. And the plot is divided neatly into chapters, much like one of Tarantino's darker films- think 'The Hateful Eight'. But in all its sprawling, sizzling flavor, it is more of a graphic novel. The best parallel for the film could be Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell's seminal 'From Hell'- an incendiary, deathly dark debunking of the myths around Jack The Ripper, which also lamented the sorry state of the society at the periphery of the murderer's crimes.

For there are well-judged, pitch-perfect and darkly comic details that thicken the stew with perverse relish. The way Raghav, investigating a crime scene, picks out a plate from a kitchen, not as a clue but for something else. Or Ramanna's fascination with aeroplanes roaring in the skies. Or a domestic maid calling, unknowingly, a stash of powder as homoeopathic medicine. 

Special mention should go to Amruta Subhash for playing Ramanna's helplessly bewildered sister, breaking down unforgettably at one moment with both gushing relief and crushing terror and newbie Sobhita Dhulipala playing Raghav's spirited but ultimately vulnerable bed-partner who is best when calmly staring back at Raghav, in midst of one of his violent starts.

As Raghav, Vicky Kaushal is phenomenal and creates a rippling character of sadism and battered masculinity. His rugged, drug-addled and edgy presence is raw and seductive; it is a treat to see him slink away to the corner, watching the interrogations with a defiant indifference mixed with a gaze of silent predicament. He even blazes his lines and snarls when convincingly all poised to bump someone off. A real hair-trigger performance, bravo.

And yet, this is, for all of Raghav's inner demons clawing compellingly their way through the murky gloom, this is ultimately Ramanna's tale and Nawazuddin Siddiqui's film. The actor is in his peak here- endowing his devilish character with an irresistible layer of pluck and slippery bravado that makes us guiltily root for him, even as he commits each murder with unsettling ruthlessness. There is a hypnotic glimmer in his eyes and he makes the scorching lines blaze like fireworks on the screen. His monologues are themselves searing as well as his silent, foolhardy determination to spill some more blood and Siddiqui remains morbidly unpredictable throughout the proceedings. He even grins as deviously as Norman Bates.

'Raman Raghav 2.0' reaches a feverish pitch in one terrifying, protracted sequence early on that feels like a chapter straight out of a Tarantino script. The entire set-up of Ramanna visiting his sister and her husband and child, then locking them up with himself in a prison of doom, all the while cooking chicken, is a masterstroke that needs to be seen to be believed, as Kashyap ratchets up the tension masterfully without ever letting us up and ends it, shockingly, with a cathartic outburst of violence, never shown explicitly but nevertheless shocking.

By now, both the director and the master actor are in peak form, fully confident of the punch they can bring to even the most unexpected moments. You find yourselves grinning wickedly, your head blown clean away as that haunting song 'Behooda' plays in the background- a song that echoes the film's heart of darkness.

As 'Star Wars' fans would say, you don't know the power of the dark side.

My rating- 5 Stars out of 5.

Udta Punjab- Drugs, Death And A Damsel In Distress

Many a rock-and-roll icon has snorted powder and swilled up acid when creating their most path-breaking work- think of The Beatles dripping acid for any one of their mid-60s seminal albums, or David Bowie being all soaked in cocaine whilst recording the iconic 'Station To Station'. Yet, while we, fervent fans, might have gladly drunk up their psychedelic visions, the artists themselves would never have really intended us to do the same crazed things.

Tommy Singh aka Gabru, a pop star from the muddy, murky land of five rivers, has no such pretensions. His songs are all about addiction and the crowds, to which he croons and raves, swallows it all- the half-crazed swagger, profanity and the relentless drug abuse- with reckless glee and devotion. And there goes an entire generation of youngsters, ready to inject acid into the withered veins of a nation that is soon falling apart.

Abhishek Chaubey's 'Udta Punjab' is the story of such a fall from grace of a land so long fabled in movies with its mustard fields and colorful charades of dance and celebration. The picture that it paints right away from the start is a hardly pretty one, but rather perceptive and probing- the focus expertly shuffling from the opening scene of a wild pop concert of ribaldry to the harsher scenes of teenagers snorting white lines and puffing grey smoke, even as the streets erupt with protest and dissent. 

And that is just the beginning. This is not even wholly the tale of Tommy, even as it ends with his possible redemption. This is, plainly put, a 'Traffic'-style multiple-character drama that sets up a terrific backdrop of the rampant substance abuse in the said state and then lets its four narrative strands unravel, intersect and run parallel with ingenious, multi-layered beauty.

Chaubey, who had proved himself adept as in earthy flavor as much as in characterization and verbal fireworks, had made the rollicking 'Ishqiya' and the even better crafted 'Dedh Ishqiya' under the shadow of palpable influences- that of his erstwhile master Vishal Bhardwaj, as well as classic Western capers of the 60s. 'Udta Punjab' breaks the mould and is a beast of its own- a film which is far from being a caper about a drug delivery gone wrong.

Apart from Tommy, a half-crazed junkie musician trying to grapple with the harsh reality of crippling drug abuse around him, this is also about one-star cop Sartaj Singh trying his best, Frank Serpico-style, to escape the corruption in his unit after his younger brother overdoses after a shot of something particularly powerful. 

He is aided in his single-minded quest by idealistic doctor-cum-activist Preet Sahni, a confident woman who makes him dedicated totally to curb the menace all around and investigate the tangle of conspiracy.

And somewhere, away from these narrative strands, is the stirring, poignant and often powerfully raw story of a nameless girl from Bihar falling into and rising from the muck of despair and degradation. 

Chaubey takes these individual narratyives and ties them up together in a fascinatingly multi-dimensional plot (co-written by Sudip Sharma) that mashes the satirical brilliance of the Coens with the complexity of a powerful Stephen Gaghan narrative. 

A lot of the talk about the film has been about the film's profane, outrageous humor and yet, it should be noted how serious 'Udta Punjab' actually is as a film. Sure, there is humor- pitch-black comedy at its blackest; there are sequences when comically absurd situations let it rip for well-earned guffaws- but most of these moments flit in conversationally, casually into a film that clearly has more in its raging, ambitious mind.

For one thing, here is a level of political and social satire that makes unforgettable digs at the reality. There are hard facts presented as intriguing clues in the central conspiracy being investigated. There are cruelly ingenious revelations that strike hard at social strife- at one scene, an imprisoned Tommy discovers that his hard-core fans have been handed the same fate for killing their parents in unblinking defiance. There is striking nuance- a seemingly normal household turns out, at one instance, an abode of hidden horrors. The film often makes our stomachs churn with the disgustingly grimy realities of the milieu but it also makes us, crucially, pay attention and even care for the fates and fortunes of the people involved.

This is a film that essentially sets out to make a strong case against the actual problem and in the way, it also makes for a particularly stunning drama of courage, bravado and despair against a seething world of evil. Above all considerations, 'Udta Punjab' is a profoundly moral film that knows what it wants to tell us.

Shahid Kapoor is phenomenally good as a loathsome, reckless Tommy Singh, bringing a ferocious wallop of freaked-out lunacy to a decadent pop star, who is, as a drugged-out character says, 'past his expiry date'. He rips through the frames in his own beastly way but it is when he pauses at the choicest moments- and particuarly in a terrific monologue with a mike- when he really rocks the show. This is Kapoor in peak form, doing devilish mischief the best way he can, without ever losing an irresistible sense of a faint heroism, worth rooting for.

As the crooked yet ultimately diligent Sartaj, Diljit Dosanjh is an absolute delight, underplaying his small-town cop part with grace and natural charisma. The way he scolds his younger brother about sitting at a cafe is as smashingly impactful as him complaining about the unchanging rates for the 'cut' from drug dealers and he even turns into the film's actual moral compass- morphing credibly from an underdog of his unit into a determined do-gooder. A scene involving him and Preeti, with him going accidentally high, is one of the finest in the film- lending a welcome streak of vulnerability to his character.

Special mention should go to two fascinating performances anchoring the main leads- veteran comedy favorite Satish Kaushik as Tommy's uncle-cum-manager, firing off bursts of abuses and demanding a 'lassi' even in a Goan beach, and Manav Vij as Sartaj's imposing, fearsome senior enforcer who demonstrates 'cop power' in ways both legitimate and evil. As Sahni, Kareena Kapoor Khan is a bit of a hit and miss- she delivers her somewhat preachy lines superbly enough but the role- essentially of a know-it-all, pitch-perfect woman in charge of turning around astray men- requires a steely confidence than the smile-happy essence that she brings. 

It does not help to her character that much of the film is dominated by Alia Bhatt as the unnamed, myserious afore-mentioned Bihari migrant who lends the film its real heart. Much has been said about her accent, her physical commitment to the dire trials that her character goes through but all of it falls short. It would be suffice to say that this is her tale, the tale of a damsel in distress, of a girl trying to do things right, failing, suffering yet rising again valiantly from her seemingly endless misfortunes. It is unforgettable to see Bhatt at her finest here- plucky, world-weary, heart-broken yet fiercely determined to survival and Chaubey does her the favor of handing her some of the film's most beautifully sculpted moments, armed with Amit Trivedi's exquisuite music- her gazing wide-eyed at posters of American brands with thoughts of money in her mind, her silent yet angry submission to the terrors unleashed at her and her upsurge of rage against life's cruelties in that extraordinary monologue where she lets it rip. Take a bow, Ms. Bhatt.

'Udta Punjab' is far from an easy watch. It is not only a grim picture of a crushingly bleak reality- it is also one that tries to do more than what it can do, to tell of darker truths, to lead the film away from its faint optimism to despair that is hauntingly elegiac. Chaubey's style is no more George Roy Hill-snappy and rather Sam Peckinpah in all its darkness. 

But it is nevertheless his own film, his own message, delivered with grittiness, pitch-perfect detailing (from a discus thrower delivering the goods from across the border to a billboard offering an unlikely dream of escape and hope) and excellent rapid fire dialogue. Bless the well-phrased subtitles too (getting high is referred to as 'Lucy In The Sky' at one point). 

This might also be his most important film. The points it makes are a bit muddled but astute, and while the film's tone occasionally jars when shifting from one narrative to another, 'Udta Punjab' really flies when it is driven by both narrative purpose and quirk, by both brutal truth and sly irony- (its final reveal of a name might be one of its other razor-sharp digs). 

Go watch it. Snort up this line of heady filmmaking and let it really blow your minds.

My Rating- 4 and a half stars out of 5.

The Nice Guys- Style, Sleaze and Shane Black-isms

It is a wonder how well Ryan Gosling can do comedy.

Sure, we got a taste of it in Adam McKay's scathingly hilarious 'The Big Short', where he, playing badass banker Jared Vennett, becomes the film's unlikely snake oil salesman, a smooth-tongued, edgy scoundrel who eggs the bewildered rakes around him to make millions out of the losses of people. But downright tomfoolery in a sun-and-neon lit Los Angeles of the 70s was always going to be tough for the golden-haired boy, who was last seen in the City Of Lights as the simmering, laconic getaway driver in the hypnotic 'Drive'.

In the Shane Black universe, however, anything can happen. 

So, we have Gosling in his goofiest best- playing a bumbling, literally drunk on the job private eye Holland March trying to poke out ugly truths from the seedier nooks and crannies of Los Angeles. Black's gloriously unhinged crime caper lets it rip without wasting minutes- we have March pitted with downbeat off-the-law enforcer Jackson Healy, played with disarming ease by a top-form Russel Crowe, as they try to locate a missing porn actress, shortly after one, named delectably as Misty Mountains, is bumped off.

There we have it- a textbook California noir template, harnessed effectively by master filmmakers into memorable films. There are corpses, there are fast cars, meanies with guns, seductive femme fatales and the real kingpins concealed out of sight, as we follow our two less-than-ideal dogged investigators uncovering a hornet's nest of scandal and conspiracy. There is a touch of 'Chinatown' in 'The Nice Guys'- the water shortage politics of that Roman Polanski masterpiece are here recycled as an important parallel subplot of air pollution levels on the rise due to more Cadillacs on the streets (one fascinating scene has gas-masked activists playing dead) and the stoned-out tenor of the film's outrageous comedy is a blend of Paul Thomas Anderson's both 'Boogie Nights' and 'Inherent Vice'. But this film is admirably and lovably lighter than all these, crucially as it is armed with that dazzling Black element, so rare in films these days- a heady dose of bouncy spunk.

This is a film, as its title suggests, about mismatched cops, or rather wannabe cops, trying to unravel a tangled mess of murder and seedy crime and ending up like real buddies, sparking off in a chemistry that makes even the unabashed silliness all around gushingly endearing. 'The Nice Guys' might be a 70s-style noir caper and it serves up all the glossy period detail in pomp and show, sure but it is closer in vein to one of those deliriously thrilling buddy cop actioners in the 80s. It is hardly surprising since Black was the one who penned 'Lethal Weapon'; if you go on a high watching those classic Riggs-Murtaugh escapades, you qualify for this too, gladly.

There are as much spills as much thrills in the film, even as it often stays sophisticated enough by piling on enough crazily entertaining twists and turns to let us want to sneak beyond the alluringly zingy exterior of the film's milieu. Black has always offered a healthy dose of bang-up thrills but he has also stealthily, sneakily sniggered at the formula cliches and 'The Nice Guys' is no different. It has enough of an enthralling cocktail of all the elements of a typical crime caper- not to forget those charged bursts of gunplay in between- but it never ever stops having a ball of a time as well.

There are splendidly choreographed comic scenes in the film- I can't forget, for quite sometime, Gosling's March goofing up his investigator routine from time to time- (him trapped inside a toilet will send up the audiences in side-splitting chuckles)- that would feel out of place of a more serious film. Black and co-writer Anthony Bagarozzi balance the audacity of the film's excellent gags with the sharp irony of its banter. The fascinating cast of crooks and cops gets to trade excellently timed, foul-mouthed wisecracks faster than the bullets that fly around. At the same time, there is an unexpected tenderness to the proceedings, mostly because of Healy's straightup diligence to his task. It is this oddly entertaining mix of the sweet and the silly that makes even the more questionable decisions of the plot as masterstrokes of unabashed nonsense.

The cast is reliably excellent all around and special mention should go to the fabulous ladies who come in all ages. Angourie Rice, playing March's doe-eyed yet bright daughter, lends an unlikely helping hand to the private-eye misadventures of the central pair while Yaya DaCosta's deceptive Tally looks in one scene as killer as Pam Grier in one of her Blaxploitation classics. Kim Basinger has a stellar cameo as a shifty head of justice at the helm of this maze of a game and Margaret Qualley as Amelia captures all the wide-eyed bewilderment of a really rookie porn actress in a film, 'where the plot is the point'.

There is no matching the charismatic duo and both Crowe and Gosling are in terrific, swashbuckling form as they go on, hitting a dynamic that drives all great buddy movies like this. Individually, Crowe is reliably great in his world-weary, dogged essence of a doughy version of Martin Riggs with a hidden core of mushy warmth. But with no disrespect to others, this is Gosling's film, totally. He is an utter revelation as an out-of-his-league yet endlessly charming character and he makes both his calm, blazing wisecracks as well as the hilarious gags work spectacularly.

'The Nice Guys' is classic Shane Black-style entertainment served in a funky 70s glass, happily drunk on the glossy colors of the era and capturing details, both big and small with brassy style. Master lensman Philippe Rousselot captures both the sweeping Cadillac fenders as well as the long side-burns and Afros with true mastery while the Black-isms are endlessly inventive (March insists in the end that people were not hurt because they died quickly). Like last year's 'The Man From UNCLE', this is one of those saucy nostalgia trips that stays so enjoyably nutty in its own witty and whimsical way. Watch it best through 'glasses made from Coke bottles' and be ready to be rocked and rolled.

My Rating- 4 Stars Out Of 5

X-Men: Apocalypse- A Massive Mutant Party

'Welcome to the 80s', announces a young, Mohawk-wearing Storm, as she takes a gulp from a can of Coca Cola. There, we have it on our faces- both the winning streak and the fatal error of Bryan Singer's latest 'X-Men' outing- it is too true to the spirit of the 80s.

The X-Men films can be considered as the gold standard in the Marvel franchise, (except for maybe Brett Ratner's overblown threequel), simply because they were the first films to introduce the concept of identity into men-in-tights films and then the likes of Christopher Nolan and Joss Whedon took a cue from them. So, as if taking a break from all the narrative weight that the previous movies presented in spades, 'Apocalypse' is as bombastic as its name suggests- a plain, old-school superhero template which sees our heroes pitted against a supervillain all set to annhiliate the world in style.

While Matthew Vaughn's 'X-Men: First Class' was fashioned like a 60s James Bond caper with its Cold War allusions, and 'Days Of Future Past'  had shades of a 70s Nixon-era thriller even with its 'Back To The Future'-style tricks, this one, which is unsurprisingly set in the 80s, is also very much an Eighties spectacular in tone- think the colliding styles of Spielberg, Robert Zemeckis and John McTiernan put together to create a heady blend of all the excesses of the action genre, curried together for maximum impact. (Even the big surprise cameo of the film appears like John Rambo with claws. Literally.)

What makes the difference is the often artful approach that 'Apocalypse' takes. It is often marvelously shot- with Singer regular Newton Thomas Sigel expertly cutting across the film's sprawling narrative with both pace and poetry- from lingering over the shaved pates of the multitudes of Egyptians worshipping the eponymous villain to often zooming out magnificently to capture much of the film's moments of monumental destruction in fascinating slow-motion. The globe-trotting nature of 'Apocalypse' often helps the film to pick up both style and snap- and Singer stylishly shuffles from ancient Egyptian ziggurats to the pock-marked and bustling souks of modern-day Cairo to the dank cage fights in Communist Berlin to cold, claustrophobic Poland. The destruction that unfolds with a sublimely unsettling beauty is also often mesmerizing, as it results in a nuclear disarmament that is tense and pulse-pounding. It is, in many ways, truly epic in scale and size.

It is also, however, a tad too ridiculous, at times. For one thing, the central villain- the hulking and bulking Apocalypse- is a bit of a waste, his  'survival of the strongest' agenda merely a flimsy version of Nietzsche's philosophy done in a highly predictable, self-aggrandizing and foolhardy style. His methods are also too obvious- why should he choose to announce to the world of his intentions, that too through none other than Charles Xavier, who can clearly use it to his advantage? Other than introducing the entire eventual cast of the original X-Men ensemble rather ingeniously, the plot could have spent a bit of time in developing its primary antagonist but nah, he remains the archetype 80s kingpin character and as for the four 'Horsemen' that he recruits to be his allies, almost all (save for one, but we will get to that) are just intriguingly delectable creations needing more meat and conflict. A couple of promising ideas are wasted here- including one that could have been a reveal as big as the one in 'The Empire Strikes Back'- but the biggest problem in this X-Men film seems to be its treatment of its women. 

All the ladies in the film are pretty troubling in the way they are wasted- with the notable exception of Alexandra Shipp as a spunky young Storm. Jennifer Lawrence, who shone throughout 'Days Of Future Past', is here mostly looking lost, robbed of being centre-stage in the action and given not much to do. Rose Byrne makes a lovely comeback as Moira MacTaggert and seems all poised for action but ends up being again on the periphery of the big things, except for Xavier's mind, maybe. Olivia Munn is extremely irresistible as a sexy Psylocke and there are moments when she blazes the screen but is eventually wasted. Sophie Turner is a strangely odd choice to play the witty and self-assured Jean Grey; she spends most of her time looking dour and uncomfortable but her increasing involvement in the film's plot does lend her character some gravitas that are well-worth watching out for.

The men, however, often rock the show. James McAvoy, perennially wry and armed with a silver-coated tongue, brings a winning warmth and vulnerability of his Professor Xavier, his charisma most infectious when wistfully sighing at the memories of Moira or when instructing his students to leave the classroom so that he can talk to a new mutant alone. Nicholas Hoult is reliably great as Beast and Tye Sheridian as a troubled but ultimately cocky Cyclops is a treat as well. Kodi Smit-McPhee brings comic relief as a slinky Nightcrawler and as for Evan Peters…well, well, well. As long as the series retains Quicksilver as a pivotal character in the proceedings, his Peter Maximoff will always have his trademark moment in the sun- freezing time, tweaking things here and there and making sure that heroes survive and the best laid evil plans fail. This film even has him thwarting a secret college rooftop kiss in style. 

As Apocalypse, Oscar Isaac brings occasional menace but is often trapped by the severe limitations to the character's development. This is also because how the film devotes its attention to the man with magnetic charm. 

Much of Singer's film is all about Erik Lehnsherr, here first trying to live a normal life with a family, without his violent streak. Things, however, take a tragic turn for him and I would hate to reveal more of how this parallel track unfolds, adding an unexpected poignancy to the proceedings. All of it is driven solidly by Michael Fassbender, an actor who can do no wrong now and as Magneto, he has found himself a signature role as arguably the greatest comic book villain of all time. Bringing both empathy and a vengeful streak of malevolence to his character, this is the performer in peak form, handing us a tragic villain whom we end up rooting for, as he sways like a moral compass.

A film with Magneto as an intriguing arch-nemesis rather than a bulk of self-centered indulgence would have been a real masterstroke then. Still, even with flaws, there is confidence here, a really slick coherence of things happening. Singer does not blow things out of proportion and keeps enough style to make things consistently compelling. The scenes in Egypt feel like those from an 'Indiana Jones' classic while there is also a fabulous nod at 'The Birds' which adds a lot of sophistication to the style all around. Also, for a film that often has things exploding magnificently, it pays equal attention to the smaller details. The 80s zing is done well enough- from Ms. Pacman to nuclear submarines to 'Star Wars' sequels playing in theaters- and there are the possible sparks between Cyclops and Jean Grey, which can be thwarted possibly by that famous hero making his  grand cameo here.

For the hard-core comic fans, there are also a few little quirks worth mentioning- most notably as Psylocke turns her sword into a whip and uses it mid-battle to stunning effect. The end result is not flawless and often a mess- much like the burgers I and my friend had- but yeah, there are also many meaty nuggets and much delicious sauce to enjoy in between as well. Dig in.

My Rating- 3 and a half stars out of 5

The Ten Best Hollywood Films Of All Time

10- The Elephant Man (1980)

Dir- David Lynch

It is a wonder how easily David Lynch fans forget ‘The Elephant Man’. While it is considered by many as a deeply affecting and humanely moving story of compassion and its various shades, not many hold it up to what the surrealist extraordinaire did in his later years. 

It is actually a shame since ‘The Elephant Man’- a loosely factual story of the real-life Joseph Merrick (Joseph becomes John in this film)- is every bit a Lynch masterwork- a film which shoves both the morbid horror of his life and physicality as well as the magnificent beauty of his eventual redemption at our face and on our senses. Visually too, this is wholly his world, filled with unrelenting dread and yet an overwhelming sense of gritty beauty. The 19th century London that it recreates- armed with master Freddie Francis’ beautifully grimy black and white visuals-is reeking of ugly truths about the nature of life and more. 

Yet, what makes ‘The Elephant Man’ so spectacularly beautiful is that rare thing in Lynch’s canon- hope. It is the cast of beautifully judged performances- including Anthony Hopkins as the well-meaning Dr. Treves and a phenomenal John Hurt as a tortured yet dignified Merrick- that creates characters both truly good and terribly evil and makes sure that this will remain a profound meditation on morality, deformity and death.

9- Apocalypse Now (1979)

Dir- Francis Ford Coppola

Till ‘Apocalypse Now’, war films taught us only two things. War could be glorious and worth the sacrifices. Or it could be real hell, damaging not only people but also their lives for once and for all. And then, Francis Ford Coppola’s epic, dystopian and hard-hitting take on Joseph Conrad’s ‘Heart Of Darkness’ nudges open the door to a far disturbing truth- that war creates monsters out of men. 

Few films- actually, no film of this genre- have the power to shock and stun, to both enthral with its epic qualities yet sober with its grave meditations. The odyssey of Captain Willard (a superb Martin Sheen) into the literal heart of darkness amidst the raging Vietnam War is a tale of heart-pounding dread and danger; the world around him and his rag-tag crew is one of violence and death- napalm incinerates jungles, villages are set aflame, women and children are gunned down and the hapless troops themselves are left defending without purpose and direction. Yet, it is only when they reach the end of their journey- to the abode of the deranged Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando, unforgettable) that the real horrors of war begin to surface. 

Shot with the eye of both a poet and an artist by Vittorio Storaro, scored to the chopping blades of helicopter and ‘The Doors’ Oedipal ‘The End’ playing stealthily, ‘Apocalypse Now’ is as thrilling as war dramas can get, even as it busts all the genre rules and emerges as something deeper.

8- Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Dir- Steven Spielberg

So much of Spielberg’s career is built upon bringing to life the child inside us, that we almost forget how he brought out the adventure-loving boy inside us all when he kick-started the swashbuckling ‘Indiana Jones’ franchise with this whip-cracking, bullet-paced action romp that remains a classic for ages. 

This is a wonder, since how much ‘Raiders’ actually recycles the firmly entrenched action movie tropes of the past. The exotic locations- Peru, Tibet and Egypt- and the occasional innuendo reek of James Bond, the creepy crawlies and fantastical elements have all the whimsy of Ray Harryhausen while the 1930s setting and the Nazi villains are reminiscent of those enjoyable WW2 yarns of the 60s. But on its own, this remains a spectacularly ripping yarn that harnesses all its energies on a rubber tight, witty plot enlivened by exciting action and stunning effects that have aged equally well along with its hero. In Harrison Ford’s Indiana Jones, we also get an action hero of both rippling machismo yet a vulnerable, tender core that makes him so endearingly heroic and worth rooting for. 

The sequels are all good in their outrageous ways (though the last one is pretty weak) but there is no beating the sheer energy of storytelling that Spielberg brought to the gem of that first film.

7- Pulp Fiction (1994)

Dir- Quentin Tarantino

Has any American film given us more cultural touchstones, more memorable quotes, more extraordinary characters than Quentin Tarantino’s endlessly enjoyable gangster caper? The answer will be a resolute ‘No’ (yes, even ‘The Godfather’ can’t beat it). 

With a narrative that is actually made up of nearly half a dozen smaller plots with their own sub-plots and teeming with quirky people, ‘Pulp Fiction’ is too eclectic and avant-garde a piece of entertainment to be called either a gangster thriller or a comedy of manners- hell, it is all that and more. The plot structure is all messed up, the characters are all a bunch of goofs in some way or the other and the conversations they have go on for darn too long. And yet, all this is what drives ‘Pulp Fiction’s pulpy tropes. The dialogue is exceptionally punchy and quote-worthy (yes, you can quote that ‘Ezeikel 25:17’ monologue over and over again), the situations a crazy blend of romantic, outrageous- an adrenalin shot for an overdose- violent and ultimately hilarious. 

Over the years, Tarantino has done different genres and delivered more incredible stuff but ‘Pulp Fiction’ lives on. Even today, you can feel the taste of that hamburger, ‘the cornerstone of every nutritious breakfast’, as Jules Whitfield would say.

6- Taxi Driver (1976)

Dir- Martin Scorsese

Look back 40 decades ago and you will find the sourcebook for any of the recent vigilante movies you might have watched. Except for the fact that ‘Taxi Driver, unlike any of the recent films, never sought to coat Travis Bickle with the air of hero-worship. Rather, it showed us what it was to be lonely and defeated in a chaotic world which seemed to look uglier and meaner at night. 

Its themes of urban decay and loss of innocence are still resonant today but don’t miss the power of Scorsese’s tense, sweltering yet elegiac direction as it gazes solely at its desolate protagonist with a blend of pity and unblinking dread. Travis Bickle, forever immortalized in Robert De Niro’s compulsive, hypnotic and ad-libbed (that mirror scene was his improvised creation) performance, is not just a loner in need of love. He is also a damaged soul back from the war, fighting his own battle with insanity and nihilism in a city that is growing crazy. ‘Taxi Driver’ mirrors the hideous demons of grime, racism and seedy prostitution against the raging terrors of Bickle’s mind. All it takes is Cybil Shepherd’s Betsy and her spurning of his not-so-friendly advances to plunge him down a heart-breaking path of misplaced rage at the world.

Yet, even with the doom all around, Scorsese and writer Paul Schrader also hand our unlikely vigilante a lifeline- in the form of child hooker Iris (Jodie Foster), who brings back his conscience. To see whether he survives the storm is one of the other unforgettable experiences of watching ‘Taxi Driver’- you just can’t look away from how real it is.

5- Psycho (1960)

Dir- Alfred Hitchcock

Some movies leave their imprints a bit too distinctly in almost every second film that comes along. So, if you thought that it was only westerns and ‘The Godfather’ whose elements are recycled in both Hollywood and Bollywood outings, think again. Have not we discovered bloody corpses behind bathroom curtains, time and again in movies?

So, ‘Psycho’ was from where it all started. And that is the deceptive part. Essentially, the initial part of Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece plays out like trademark Hitchcock formula. A blonde office secretary (Janet Leigh) elopes with a stash of cash and hits the road. All the time, Bernard Hermann’s score is playing its menacing beats fiendishly- a cop is tailing her too. Then, she hits upon the desolate Bates Motel for refuge and everything changes, transforming this into something really special.

I would hate to reveal more of what follows. Plot is not what makes ‘Psycho’ so perfect; what makes it so fresh to our senses even today is how it pushed the boundaries of its own formula. It is a plain old murder mystery but is armed with possibly the best, nastiest twist in film history. It is as much about frenzied screams as about Freud. It is as exciting as it is artful and flawlessly crafted.

There is so much detailing to marvel at (the stuffed birds on the walls of Norman Bates’ room), so much horror to gasp at (yes, chocolate sauce does feel like blood) and that climax (can you forget that smile?) still has the power to bring an unearthly chill down the spine. To sum it up, of all classics, there will be none like ‘Psycho’. It is a movie that feels fresh as ever and remains a truly terrifying horror classic for ages. 

4- Schindler’s List (1993)

Dir- Steven Spielberg

Tragedies make us cry. Massacres make us flinch. It is rare to see a film that does a little of both, without ever losing its precision, without ever blowing it out of proportion. In short, it is rare to see an intelligent portrayal of a truly horrific time in history.

And it is rare to see that a director, whom critics would only fault for sentimentalism, outdoes himself with a film that stays so remarkably unsentimental yet totally compassionate. ‘Schindler’s List’ is not just the only- and I am not counting Roman Polanski’s ‘The Pianist’- mainstream portrayal of the horrors of Holocaust that never shies from showing us the dark truth. It is also, most crucially, a stunning story of real-life disaster, death, defeat, despair and ultimately hope- hope coming in the form of the unlikely saviour Oskar Schindler ( a brilliant Liam Neeson) who made many a dirty deal to save Jews from certain death at hands of Nazis.

But there is more to the film that it would suggest for Spielberg admirably never glorifies Schindler or his exploits but rather makes him an enigmatic character whose true motives are never known. It is this that makes ‘Schindler’s List’ so intelligent as a character study- its protagonists are men of both good and evil means but there might not be much of a difference in the way they take their desperate measures to make ends meet.

Let’s not forget-the film’s raw and powerful indictment of the atrocities and horrors of the pogrom (shot grittily in black-and-white for impact) is what also gives a throbbing heart to a brainy film like this. That is its beauty- ‘Schindler’s List’ is razor-sharp intelligent yet accessible, a film which never overstates its emotions yet also remains often shocking and visceral yet endowed with hope for survival and life against all odds. 

3= There Will Be Blood (2007)

Dir- Paul Thomas Anderson

Certain films are more than just limited to their narratives. They tell us more than that. They tell us about the world around us, the truths that we might have left out of our brains but truths we cannot ignore. Truths which matter.

And that has been the practice of Paul Thomas Anderson, a wunderkind who gave us a rollicking party in ‘Boogie Nights’ and a thrillingly epic multi-character drama in ‘Magnolia’ while lamenting the sorry state of relationships, morals and life in a filthy-rich America. In this searing, stunning adaptation of Upton Sinclair’s ‘Oil!’, he goes a step further and exposes the demons that created this ‘get filthy rich’ dictum- essentially the nascent spectre of capitalism that has built the bones of the America we know today.

But then came along master actor Daniel Day-Lewis who took that ghost and brought it to life in larger-than-life fashion, creating a power-hungry oilman who is as much a businessman as much as a bully. Out he goes, his unforgettable Daniel Plainview, to seize everything that is not his, his often amoral exploits giving the edge of a terse, thudding thriller to this extraordinary period piece that turns phenomenally intense with each turn.

Even as it speaks volumes of the obsessions with both money and religion (Plainview’s arch rival is false prophet Eli, played chillingly by Paul Dano), let’s not forget how dramatic ‘Blood’ actually is. We see Plainview as an impenetrable wall of solid, cold-blooded resolve that breaks apart when his only shred of morality has to be ripped apart by his own ambition. Anderson lets it rip from here, making this gritty epic reach an orgasmic conclusion that comes only from a heady dose of life-altering cinema.

2- Goodfellas (1990)

Dir- Martin Scorsese

Some might be wondering: where the hell is ‘The Godfather’ in this list? And I answer you with a simple suggestion. Watch ‘Goodfellas’ and then try telling me if I missed the greatest gangster film of all time.

The truth is that I did not miss it. Whereas Coppola’s soap opera adaptation of Mario Puzo’s bestseller is as stunning as it can be in its faith to the material, Marty’s ‘Goodfellas’ is stunning in its own right. Whereas ‘The Godfather’ is shackled to the source material in every way possible, ‘Goodfellas’ breaks free recklessly and gleefully, even as it stays true to Nicholas Pileggi’s book on Henry Hill and his fellow wiseguys. Whereas ‘The Godfather’ is mostly a tragedy on parenting, family matters and the American Dream, this is a swinging party with everything- roaring comedy, fiery violence and yes, unexpected emotional drama.

But comparisons aside, this is one hell of a triumph of American cinema, a film that sees Marty at the peak of his powers- currying together all his trademark elements along with a searing streak of social commentary that thickens his portrait of Italian-American underworld to a stew of violence, false allegiances and false vanity that constantly spills over. 

Even with these weighty considerations, it is also a hefty, purely hedonistic slice of entertainment. Edited with plastic agility by Thelma Schoonmaker and punctuated with a soundtrack full of classic rock moments, the film revels in its orgies of gore and gab- the deliciously irreverent humour enlivening what is mainly a grim and often dark portrait of crime and criminals. And that cast only makes things more incredible- Ray Liotta as Henry Hill, Robert De Niro as Jimmy Conway and Joe Pesci as an unpredictable Tommy De Vito.

1- Mulholland Drive (2001)

Dir- David Lynch

What defines a good film? Aside from all narrative and histrionic considerations, the main purpose of film has been to astound. A good film is designed to shock, to stun, to amaze, to satiate our hungry senses and to evoke a reaction. By that measure, David Lynch, a true master of light and sound, of image and spoken word, crafted the ultimate sensory experience of all time in this twisted neo-noir set in Hollywood. Gushingly sensuous colors pop at the eye, textures and lights immerse you into an ethereal world and the contrast between ugliness and beauty- between smooth contours and dirty edges- is often surreally stunning.

So much for the sheer sensory pleasures that 'Mulholland Drive' offers. Add to that Angelo Badalamenti's sombre score and a labryrinthine plot of murder and guilt, of love and lust, of the dark and the bright and you get a cinematic experience unlike any other. 

There have been many attempts to decipher the beautifully convoluted narrative- of an attempted murder in the eponymous location and the subsequent romance between Rita (Laura Harring) and aspiring actress Betty (Naomi Watts) even as a cast of disturbingly intriguing characters are plotting something. Mid-way, Lynch twirls the template and foxily turns the narrative on its own head and by now, we are entranced, as much as by the exquisite storytelling as by how much the film tries to tell us on every single viewing.

What is it, really then? Is it a dark portrait of dreams crushed and compromised in   a not-so-glitzy Hollywood? Is it the fevered, wish-fulfillment fantasy of a starlet who has lost more than her innocence? Or is it a horror story full of the demons that plague our better selves? Lynch asks us the questions even as he constantly stuns us to silence, his craft at its finest and most transcendent ever.

What makes a great film? That, in the darkness of the theater, it lets us discover ourselves. 'Mulholland Drive' does that and more. No wonder it tops my list. 

The Prestige- A Mesmeric Magic Trick

Magic is a tricky business. Even when made sheer pulp, as in the Arabian Nights or the Grimm tales or even books by Tolkien and Rowling, it can either make or break the deal. So much depends on the swish of a wand or the right incantations whispered that it becomes a matter of life and death. One wrong move or word can possibly end your life. But if you get it all right and add your own style to the act, you can create real magic.

So much for real magic. As it happens in ‘The Prestige’, magic trickery- the art of making illusions that dazzle as much as they deceive-is not without its own share of stakes of life and death.

Christopher Nolan takes that central idea, adapts Christopher Priest’s fiendishly smart novel and gives the entire source his own ingenious twists and tweaks- the result being a film markedly different and more enthralling in a conventional sense without losing the essence of enigma. ‘The Prestige’ is an uncommonly smart film, a whodunit thriller fashioned with elegance and driven by excitement and one which never ever lets one up. It takes the central human conflict- of showmanship and real talent- from the novel but plays it out in trademark style- the film’s mysteries concealed in smoke and mirrors in fascinating non-linear style-that ties up all strands ingeniously even as keeping the real mystery out of our grasp.

Set in the 19th century London, fashioned like a wonderfully decaying noir cityscape that also has the feel of a Lynch-like steampunk design, the beautifully structured narrative is, as Priest had it, about rival illusionists Robert Angier (flashy and slick) and Alfred Borden (talented yet enigmatic), duking it out with tricks and concepts instead of swishes of wands or spells. And that is essentially just one part of the film- the red-hot rivalry between the two magicians, spurred by a horrific tragedy. The rest of the ambitious film has quite a few things on its mind, one of them being a debunking of the myths surrounding magic tricks and illusions.

With typical Nolan-like stealth, ‘The Prestige’ sneaks up behind the scenes of the great acts themselves, yet never ever makes the error or revealing a little or big detail that would give away too much.

As we watch, spell-bound, there is a wealth of secrets behind every single magic trick that explodes on the stage so magnificently. There is a marvel of engineering or science that makes it happen. There is a secret stashed away in a place that you might choose to ignore. There is meticulous planning and even the audience members are in the game. There is then an extra layer of trickery and deception but even that is nothing in the face of the bigger stakes behind the stage.

Both Borden and Angier are driven by something more than just the cut-throat rivalry between them. For Angier, it is showmanship- the heady delight of deceiving his audiences (he even does not celebrate his successful illusion because he can’t even see his crowds applauding him) and seeing the wonder in their faces. It is a passion for him to be the ultimate illusionist, upstaging his rival and his rage for his wife’s death becomes tragically secondary to this obsession. For Borden, sacrifice is what defines real commitment to make a great illusion and we see him going through his own trials. Divided between a lover (Scarlett Johannson’s bewitchingly seductive Olivia who switches sides in the conflict) and his loyal wife Sarah (Rebecca Hall, impressive), Borden struggles to keep the enigma of his own illusion intact, eventually succumbing to the fate that awaits him. Nolan portrays both men as flawed dreamers, each trying to find out what is a great illusion all about and whether illusions can be really magic.

Real magic, however, pops up in the form of actual invention- in this case, the mysterious powers of alternating electricity by none other than Nikolai Tesla. It is he who intrigues Angier yet cautions him to avoid falling into the same cul-de-sac of obsession. Nolan masterfully weaves fact into fantasy at this juncture- we see Tesla hounded by not only rival Edison’s smear campaign but also by his own demons. In his parallel track as a real wizard who has delivered miracles but also succumbed to them, we see the real selves of both Borden and Angier reflected with shattering conviction.

It is a class act, every bit of it- the film paced flawlessly like an elaborate yet heart-pounding stage act itself, peppered with many a thrill and spill but while the well-tailored suspense plot often amazes, the film’s attention to detail is equally well-judged and astute.

From a secret box in the table which hides a bird killed in the name of magic to grimy back-stages that reveal darker truths as much as they conceal, the visual world of ‘The Prestige’ is one of both mystery and morbid dread. And that makes it all more unsettling- even with split-second thrills and twists and flashes of smart banter, this is a mostly taut thriller enlivened only by the moments of wide-eyed wonder and of course the mammoth performances.

Hugh Jackman is terrific as Angier, endowing his eventually amoral character with a cocky, rascally charisma that is irresistible. Driven by fervour of one-upmanship as well as a natural flair for dramatics, his Angier is a cocky youngster at heart who jumps before he thinks and pays for it in ways best left unsaid. Yet, the real tour de force often comes from his perfect foil: Christian Bale as Borden. Enigmatic, often conflicted yet dedicated and blazingly intelligent, Bale is in top form as Borden, crafting a complex character with realism that is hard-hitting.

Michael Caine is superb as John Cutting, a shifty and veteran stage-hand who becomes Angier's unlikely accomplice in his malicious quest of obsession while motion-capture legend Andy Serkis is terrifically slimy as the trusty aide to Tesla. And that brings us to Tesla himself.

In a casting masterstroke, Nolan picked out the late and incredibly enigmatic David Bowie for playing the equally mysterious inventor. This decision pays off in spades for this is clearly one of the pop and rock legend's another absorbing, indelible screen performances. The well-chosen words he speaks- of how society can deal with only one change at a time and of how his own obsession has made him prisoner- go on to reveal a hidden core to both Tesla and Bowie himself- something that we may not know much about. His quietly chilling essence is itself stunning- he enters the frame, walking through crackling electricity, not unlike many of the icon's unforgettable musical personas. And it is he who, in his small but pivotal role, brings a real emotional darkness to the tale. Not to forget that famous stare of that one dilated pupil, which soaks us all in serious moonlight.

Mesmerizing, like the rest of the film, really. 

Captain America: Civil War- A Classic Clash Of Titans

It is high time since we realized that superheroes are different, not only from the rest of us ordinary folk but also from each other.

Differences emerge inevitably from a certain ideology, a certain opinion or the way of doing things right, saving the world. And while most assembles of heroes might eventually gel together like a good team to kick evil in its nuts, when pushed to edge, we might eventually see the cracks in their group dynamic that might eventually lead to a clash of ideas and personalities.

The Russo Brothers, continuing a smashing run with their deft hand on the superhero genre after 2014’s tautly thrilling ‘The Winter Soldier’, have taken this central premise and woven around it a fascinating, solidly conventional (or even unexpected unconventional) superhero yarn that lets our favourite screen heroes- and intriguing newbies- duke it out in a battle, which lets them decide what is right and what should be done.

It is the most classic of all superhero templates and while ‘Captain America: Civil War’ is also bursting with layers of wacky wit, much excellent daredevilry and even flashes of unexpected emotional baggage, it never really strays from its main objective- to let us sigh and gasp (and yes, even have a ball) as we see once-teammates taking on each other, each endowed with style, snap and superpowers that makes him or her really special and crucially different from the others. Hell, this is the film that ‘Batman Vs Superman: Dawn Of Justice’ could have been. 

Comic-book movies might deviate from actual plots of the paperbacks and even tweak the origins here and there but what makes a good comic book movie is how it lets its men and women in tights to keep on their true selves. Nothing is taken away from any of the masked and caped heroes in this film- and that itself makes the entire clash intriguing. We always need to see whether these oddballs can actually fit in with each other when it comes to big choices and it is exactly this shred of conflict that makes the actual smack-down a worthy debate that lets you pick sides. Or rather, even both sides.

The big choice in this case is what the great Alan Moore described some of in his seminal series ‘Watchmen’- the public exploits of heroes need to be controlled- or even subdued- by a ruling political authority. The United Nations steps in to restrain these bushy-tailed adventurers who might have saved the day but have also created collateral damage. Tony Stark, now visibly greying at the edges and palpably defeated, agrees but his perfect opposite, the evergreen Steve Rogers won’t really take it lying down. 

And that is all you need to know, really. ‘Civil War’ skimps on the weightier narrative elements and instead decides to pile up the fun. The build-up before the big clash towards the climax is a tightly plotted game of move and countermove-deftly laying the bones of the central debate between Captain America and Iron Man, whilst letting in irresistibly interesting characters with their motives and affiliations into the narrative. The action comes in incidentally, intuitively- slick, frenetic yet often punchy and coherent. The fresh faces- the embittered African prince T’Challa, a trusty Falcon, a slippery burglar who starred in Marvel’s most low-key venture and a kid from New York whom you know too well- step into ‘Civil War’ in unexpected and strategic ways, the result being that the director-duo along with their writers keep everything on an even keel. Everything- from the shifting allegiances to the main gist of a whodunit plot involving Bucky Barnes to the entry of the afore-mentioned characters- fits in like clockwork. 

When the big battle eventually erupts, it is time for both nostalgia and novelty. ‘Civil War’ smartly pits together two teams- Captain’s ensemble of mostly mercenaries, both old and new, pitted against Iron Man’s team of reliable allies and yes, of course that kid. It could have been an overblown battle of incoherence- yes, but in the hands of a director like Zack Snyder. In more capable hands, the battle turns not only into a classic standoff of heroes laying down friendships for a greater cause but also witty, often ingenious and enthralling. Yes, the action actually delights because it never digresses into redundant hokum and the film sticks with both teams- letting each hero have both a moment in the sun as well as a mighty fall. It is also incredibly hilarious at times- the visual daredevilry often amuses as does the verbal banter amidst the chaos. I cannot forget the sight of Ant-Man doing his greatest trick- no spoilers, I assure you- or both Spiderman and Captain America pausing for a breath to talk about from where in good old New York did they come. 

Is it all fun and games? As the film reaches a head in a sobering climax in Siberia, the film smashes the ground rules and turns darker but it never feels indulgent or overdone. Most importantly, we never forget who the heroes are and what makes them different.

Keeping the superhero style and snap firmly in their tights and spandex are the actors, all better than ever. Chris Evans makes for a solid Captain America, a bit out of league of the big stakes the game requires but nevertheless soldiering on with true-blue diligence and determination. Scarlett Johannson still kicks ass as Natasha Romanoff, here divided between a natural liking for Rogers and a logical allegiance to Stark while Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany add wonderful side-turns as Wanda Maximoff and Vision respectively. Paul Rudd is a stellar Ant-Man, carrying off goofy charm effectively while Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa is the film’s biggest surprise- a dark-edged Avenger in the literal sense. And finally, we have Tom Holland playing a Spiderman that we always wanted but never got till now: low-key, wet behind his ears yet a load of swinging fun.

As the film’s central antagonist, Daniel Bruhl is quietly chilling as he plots and carries out the film’s chaos with the elegance of a tragic villain done wrong. Old faces like William Hurt and Don Cheadle are a delight, though more could have been done with Jeremy Renner’s Hawkeye, and Marisa Tomei still manages to look great with the man who fell in love with her in a film called ‘Only You’.

That man- who is actually Robert Downey JR’s Tony Stark- often steals the film. This might be a franchise film for Captain but it is Iron Man who emerges, unexpectedly, as the film’s moral compass and its emotional core. Downey’s Stark is here a man mostly beaten down on all levels and even his constant barrage of wisecracks lacks the punch that it once had. But then, that is the deal- this is a Stark losing it all- Pepper Potts is gone, his well-intentioned inventions have failed and all his demons are tumbling out of that iron suit. Downey gets the snappy banter right as always but he also digs beneath the armour and comes up with a vulnerable, damaged soul that we have never seen before. It is clearly the performance of the film.

Is ‘Civil War’ the finest superhero film out there? It is definitely one of the finest, for here we have all the ingredients in place- well-picked characters oozing with charisma, enough meat for the plot and enough hard-boiled action to satisfy the boys. But like the much-loved ‘Star Wars’ sequel it references hilariously at a point, this is also a brave superhero yarn that refuses to end on a happy note but instead leaves a cliff-hanger and us hungry for more. Imagine Christopher Nolan taking on the Marvel series and giving us something for everyone. Now that is really smart. 

My Rating- 4 and a half stars out of 5