Timbuktu (2014)

(***1/2 stars / *****)

Thanks to pandemic-induced run of online film festivals and a movie-passionate friend, I came upon this Abderrahmane Sissako written and directed drama, a tragic tale of extremist and religious imposition. 

What would you do if religious extremists took over your resident state and imposed extreme restrictions on your life? 

What if playing games and music is forbidden, and women are forcefully asked to cover their body from 'tempting' view? 

How stifling and caged would that life be? 

Would you flee from that place or stay and suffer the consequences?  

Timbuktu is no championed, heroic tale, but a stark true events-inspired portrayal of scrapping a crushed existence under gun-wielding extremist force.

The Mauritanian-French language tale is set in the desert-ridden, barren landscape of Timbuktu, Mali. 

Kidane (Ibrahim Ahmed dit Pino) lives a difficult but peaceful life with his wife Satima (Toulou Kiki), young daughter Toya (Layla Walet Mohamed) and a 12-year-old shepherd boy Issan (Mehdi Ag Mohamed). 

But when one of his cow's is killed by a local fishermen, things fall apart. 

The dominant Islamic religious militia interpret the religious law for their fanatic benefit. 

From children forbidden to play football, music banned as a crime, women asked to cover their body (even their hands with gloves!), and death by stoning for adultery, Kidane's fate is sealed, but there is a catch. 

Timbuktu may be set in Mali, but its derelict occurrences could be happening anywhere in the world. 

Reckless, merciless and foolish rulers causing the sufferings of millions is no longer distant fiction, but a writhing reality even in so-called superpowers like America. 

The screenplay hangs loose at times, but the hard realism, desert-sand emptiness, numbness of curtailed freedom gets through in the silent, telling moments. 

Despite some great and some not-so-great acting, sparse setting, limited-budget art, cinematography and music direction, Timbuktu is a grim yet slow-burn warning call to oppression in religion's name.

Cinema that is tragic and telling, true to life. 

Fading Gigolo (2013)

[*** stars/*****]

Fading Gigolo Story: A seller of rare books (Woody Allen) is down on business, until a revelation of need from his affluent dermatologist (Sharon Stone) leads him to offer his flower-arranging friend (John Turturro) a career as a gigolo. Things go well, as Allen plays pimp to Turturro, trying to fish in needy women. Then the gigolo falls in love.

Fading Gigolo has a flimsy premise in its midst and would have been pretty much a no show but for the chemistry and humour its cast generates. 

Woody Allen in a film not directed by him is good match for John Turturro, the film's director and main protagonist. The lonely women roles by Sharon Stone, Sofia Vergara and Vanessa Paradis are part of the film's winning moments, as is Allen's legendary monologue bumbling wit. 

Turturro is an unlikely dark horse, he exudes vulnerability and eagerness for life, it is certainly a self-casting that works.

The Jewish background works incidentally as a comic statement on societal rules, it is otherwise a half-baked afterthought. The climax is unreasonably conclusive and tepid, a saving grace is the final Allen-Turturro scene, unexpected and warm to a degree. In fact, with some daft screenplay, the film could have explored the story further from where it ends. 

Fading Gigolo review: Finally, Fading Gigolo is a adult comedy that doesn't rise to great heights, but keeps it relevant and light with some sparkling moments, enough to exit the theatre with a satisfied air.   

Sir (2018)

[**** stars /*****]

Understanding and empathy in movies and 100% efficacy in COVID vaccines are a rarity, lately. 

What if you confessed your love to your housemaid? How would the housemaid react? 

How would a movie made on such a subject usually pan out? 

Bold scenes and what not? No attempt to explore characters, thoughts, hearts? 

Most probably, yes. 

Writer-director Rohena Gera's Sir is surprise, surprise, not that movie by the long shot.

Ratna (Tillotama Shome), widowed at 19, works at soon-to-be-married Ashwin (Vivek Gomber) and Sabina's spacious high-rise Mumbai apartment. 

An independent woman supporting her younger sister's education and family at her village, Ratna is asked by Ashwin's mother (Divya Seth) to rejoin work. 

Apparently Sabina has cheated on Ashwin, the marriage has been called off. 

Ratna doesn't mind working for a single man, she is unaffected by what others may think.   

Ashwin's continuing gloom over weeks causes her to remind him that life goes on despite setbacks, citing her own life as an example. 

Ratna also aspires to be a fashion designer, Ashwin encourages her to pursue her passion. He sees her as an equal, never as a servant.    

Gently, gradually like the changing of seasons, love blooms.   

Nuanced, sensitive take

An Indian housemaid is at the deep end of India's ruptured social fabric. Life is fragile, and loving someone from the so-called higher class, unthinkable. 

Gera channels this brick-hard premise through Shome's splendid, sparkling lead act, Gomber's controlled play, with some great supporting turns, Geetanjali Kulkarni as Laxmi is excellent. 

The nobility and intent of Sir won my heart.

The makers keep it real, the screenplay barely striking any cluttered notes. 

The pacing is lovely, no melodrama, understated tone elevates proceedings. 

A realistic, steady mirror to class disparities, affluent city life, dreams and passions, Sir is a rare flower, seeking-depth cinema. 

As seen on Netflix