Tag / Movie Review

by whatsonsidsmind

Homebound Review: A Mirror That Is Both Subtle and Stark

Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 5 Min Read

Homebound deals with a heavy subject: discrimination. Not just in one form, but through caste, class, religion and gender, even though caste-based discrimination remains central. It takes a filmmaker of rare maturity to handle such themes with the skill and nuance it deserves. While Neeraj Ghaywan’s directorial debut, the exceptional Masaan was more purist in its approach and leaned heavily on visual language, his second full-length feature, Homebound is more conversational. It rests on deep, lived-in exchanges between its characters.

Although, the film is India’s official entry to next year’s Oscars in the Best International Feature category, it struggled to secure a theatrical release at home. The CBFC ordered 11 cuts, amounting to just 77 seconds, yet enough to potentially blunt the emotional force of certain scenes. Did it dilute the film’s impact? Perhaps. But a film, beyond its hype, its controversies, its festival run, and the reputation of its creators, must still move its audience. It must linger and become a conversation starter. That, for me, is the mark of a great film. And when such films endure, they become classics.

So does Homebound belong in that realm?

The film draws from true events, inspired by a 2020 New York Times article by Basharat Peer. It follows two childhood friends from a small North Indian village, Chandan (Vishal Jethwa), a Dalit, and Shoaib (Ishaan Khatter), a Muslim, who share a dream: to become police constables. They believe that the uniform will become their escape from the poverty, discrimination and loss of dignity that have shadowed their families for generations.

With no college degrees, the police exam is their only opportunity for a different life. Failure means returning to the same manual labor their forefathers endured. The road ahead is unforgiving. Their friendship strains under the pressure of circumstance, while a system stacked against them keeps pushing them back. Yet they do not break. They adapt, endure, and hold on to hope, until Covid arrives and alters their fate in ways they could never have imagined. What unfolds after forms the emotional core of Homebound.

Though sparked by a newspaper article, the screenplay is deeply personal to Ghaywan. In an interview to the Indian Express before the film’s India release, he spoke of hiding his Dalit identity for 35 years. “When you masquerade, your confidence dies,” he said. While watching Homebound, you sense that what plays out on screen is born from lived experience. There is an honesty in the storytelling that you cannot turn away from.

In conversations following its festival run, Ghaywan has been clear that the politics in his films can never overshadow the filmmaking. If that happens, he believes he risks becoming a propagandist. During a Cannes interaction, with the Hollywood Reporter India, co-producer Karan Johar echoed this sentiment, stating, “There is no activism in the film, there is just filmmaking.” Legendary filmmaker Martin Scorsese, who joined as an executive producer and mentor, also spoke highly of the script and of Ghaywan’s craft.

What truly stands out is the film’s quiet simplicity. The narrative is layered and nuanced, yet expressed with clarity. In a film like this, it is easy for dialogues to become preachy. But Ghaywan, along with Varun Grover and Sreedhar Dubey, keeps a firm grip on realism. The film never overexplains its ideas. The scenes feel textured, unpolished in the best sense, and deeply human. This quiet authenticity is the film’s true strength. It does not sermonise. It simply holds up a mirror to society and leaves it there. As an audience, what you choose to see in that reflection is entirely up to you.

One of the film’s most powerful moments arrives when the exam results are announced. Chandan has passed. Shoaib has not. Chandan’s concern is genuine, but Shoaib, shattered and ashamed, cannot receive it as anything but pity. What begins as an argument soon turns into a fight. Yet it is the reason behind that confrontation that reveals who they really are. It is heartbreaking, but also deeply revealing. Until that moment, they appear to have risen above every identity imposed upon them. In this scene, Ghaywan strips them back to their most human selves, grounding the film in its deepest intention: humanism.

Made on a modest budget of ₹3–4 crore, it reportedly took nearly three years to ready the script for production. The shoot itself was completed in approximately two months. That care in the writing is visible in the way the scenes land, and there are several that are likely to linger. The attention to detail, in both costumes and locations, is equally precise. Much of the story unfolds in a North Indian village, filmed largely in and around a village near Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh.

The cinematography is restrained and grounded, never departing from the characters’ world. Every frame feels rooted in their reality. The color palette and lighting choices subtly enhance the film’s shifting moods without drawing attention to themselves.

In a performance driven film like this, the actors had to deliver, and they do so with conviction. At no point do they feel out of place. The two leads, Ishaan Khatter and Vishal Jethwa, bring the artistry, maturity and nuance their roles demand. Even with limited screen time, Jahnvi Kapoor makes her presence felt. Shalini Vatsa in the role of Chandan’s mother, was exceptional, anchoring the film with a quiet, heartbreaking authenticity.

Conclusion:

Homebound speaks to everyone, cutting across class, caste, religion and social standing. It draws the viewer into a world that unsettles, challenges the conscience, and forces a confrontation with uncomfortable realities. Yet, it does so with rare grace and empathy, making the experience feel deeply cathartic rather than overwhelming.

Homebound easily qualifies as one of the finest Indian films of the year and stands tall as a worthy Oscar contender. It has the depth and craft to endure, much like the director’s debut. Whether it will be remembered as a true classic, only time will tell.

Verdict:

IMDb rating – 8/10

My rating – 4.5/5

You can watch Homebound on Netflix.

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

by whatsonsidsmind

120 Bahadur Review: A Sincere Film that Doesn’t Stir Enough

Written By: Siddhartha Krishnan | 4 Min Read

When you think of the great war films of the past, you remember their sheer technical power: the sweeping cinematography, the visceral action, the stirring background score, the meticulous production design, the prosthetics and of course the performances. Yet beneath all that craft, those films endured because they moved you. A war film cannot afford to falter there.

That is why 120 Bahadur, a film about one of the Indian Army’s greatest battles, feels incomplete. Its heart is in the right place, but it needed a sharper mind to match the intelligence and spirit of its own protagonist.

Critics have largely called out the first half for being slow and occasionally dull. The common verdict is that the film takes too long to warm up before it starts landing its punches. That may be true, but for me the issue ran deeper. Something felt missing throughout, even when the second half gathers momentum. And that missing piece was emotional force. The makers seemed to play it too safe when the story needed a touch of madness, especially in the latter half where the stakes demanded bolder choices.

The story of the Battle of Rezang La is the stuff of legend. It is so astonishing that one could easily mistake it for fiction. Having recently visited the Rezang La War Memorial in Ladakh, standing on the very land where the 120 brave soldiers of the 13 Kumaon Regiment’s Charlie Company (almost all from the Ahir community in Haryana) were cremated after facing a 3000 strong Chinese force with outdated ammunition, the enormity of their sacrifice still feels impossible to grasp. They fought till the last man, taking down nearly 1300 enemy soldiers before falling. None of the bodies were found with a bullet to their back. It sounds unreal, yet it happened.

Though this story is well known within the Army, it is tragically unfamiliar to most citizens. And in that sense, I understand the instinct to sanitise the violence so the film can reach a wider audience. On that front, the film succeeds. It is technically strong, shot on real locations, with a powerful story, a capable ensemble cast and in Major Shaitan Singh Bhati a protagonist who stands taller than a hero, almost mythic.

But this was a story that demanded the brutality of war to be shown. It was an essential part of the narrative, unlike many recent Hindi films where violence is used merely as a stylistic choice. If the film had focused solely on camaraderie, bravery and sacrifice, the restraint would have worked. But with an entire second half devoted to the battle, the raw, unforgiving truth of war was needed for the script to fully come alive.

Another criticism the film faced was its restrained performances. I felt this was not a flaw but a conscious and sensible choice by the makers. Imagine a group of soldiers at sixteen thousand feet, in minus twenty four degree cold, conserving every last ounce of energy during a battle that stretches through the night. Shouting stirring lines in such conditions is not only improbable, it breaks authenticity. In choosing restraint, the makers chose truth, and it was the right call.

Where the film does falter is in its dialogue. While avoiding loud, jingoistic monologues was the correct direction, the lines still needed to carry weight, to leave you with the lingering ache that a war film should. They fall short of that. Even the constant humour does not fully land.

Farhan Akhtar, as Major Shaitan Singh, is another important anchor in the film. His performance is balanced and mature, yet there is a sense of something missing. The issue again lies in the screenplay, which does not create enough intrigue or deliver the emotional shocks the story deserves. This is a true event, one that can be easily looked up online. The power, therefore, had to come from how the story was told. Instead, the makers chose a conventional, familiar template seen in films like Border, Shershaah and LOC Kargil.

This story needed a treatment closer to Saving Private Ryan, where the war itself becomes a visceral and shattering experience. A more immersive and relentless portrayal could have left the audience shaken. But the film takes a simpler and more straightforward route, and the impact is not as deep as it could have been.

To conclude, 120 Bahadur is not a bad film by any measure. It approaches one of the Indian Army’s greatest battles with sincerity. But the creative decisions, especially in the screenplay, keep it from reaching the heights it was capable of. Despite its shortcomings, I would still urge audiences to watch it. It is a story of exceptional courage, sacrifice and the true cost of war, one every Indian should know.

Verdict:
IMDb rating: 7/10
My rating: 3/5

Pic Credits: Excel Entertainment

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

by whatsonsidsmind

Good Boy Movie Review: Emotional, Inventive, and Powered by a Dog You Cannot Look Away From

Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 5 Min Read

Good Boy (2025) runs on a slender plot, and on an emotional theme that is deceptively simple. But what it delivers both visually and technically is something the makers can genuinely be proud of.

Written and directed by Ben Leonberg, in his feature debut, and featuring his own dog as the protagonist, Good Boy follows Todd, a young man with a chronic lung disease, who moves from New York to his late grandfather’s isolated house in the woods. His sister Vera believes the place is haunted, and could even have played a part in their grandfather’s death. Todd disagrees. For him, the wilderness is sanctuary. His dog Indy though senses something darker, a presence Todd cannot see. What follows is a battle of instinct versus ignorance. Will Indy keep his master safe, or will both be consumed by something hiding in the shadows?

Leonberg got the spark for this film while rewatching Poltergeist (1982), specifically a scene involving a dog. As a lifelong horror fan, having consumed every conceivable sub-genre, I can say with conviction that there is nothing left in horror that is truly new. Innovation now lies in how familiar tropes are reimagined, in how writing and craft can twist the known into the uncanny.

Good Boy is that kind of horror.

Writers Alex Cannon and Ben Leonberg are smart with their writing. They find ways to keep the audience guessing, even with a deceptively thin storyline. One criticism the film has received is that it is too convoluted. I see that as a strength. The writers play with the viewer’s mind. It is entirely possible to have multiple interpretations of the scenes that unfold, especially the slightly bizarre ending that leaves you with many questions. Despite its narrative limitations, Good Boy challenges you as a viewer. The real genius is in showing everything from the dog’s point of view. It makes the scenes tense, emotionally charged, and keeps you uncertain because you are never fully sure what is happening inside Indy’s mind.

The film’s editing is one of it’s strong points. The interplay of past and present, the use of dream-like sequences before snapping back into present reality, is impactful. It adds to the intrigue. There is also a clever rhythm in the cutting. Quick jump cuts are broken by long pauses and silences. This creates mood, dread, and a constant expectation of something evil about to reveal itself.

Just like the editing, the cinematography does not follow a single pattern. For most of its seventy-three-minute runtime, the camera is focused on Indy’s face. It is the need of the script. The camera follows him wherever he goes. The angles are fluid, constantly shifting to capture his expressions and the subtle changes in his behaviour. The action on screen demands that the camera be quick and kinetic in some moments, and completely still in others.

None of this feels like the work of a first time director. There is a visible sense of craft and confidence in how frames are composed. The static shots are haunting and atmospheric. When the camera moves, it injects energy and adrenaline. There are a few sharp jump scares as well, which add to the film’s thrill.

From a technical standpoint, I believe the editing, the sound design and the camerawork elevate Good Boy beyond its limited story. They give the film its power.

But all said and done, the true star of the film is the dog, Indy. It is through his eyes that the entire story is told. The writing and the technical craft would not have saved this film if the performance had failed at this level. As an audience, you are glued to his face. He has the most expressive eyes and a deeply innocent presence. You start rooting for him. You fear for him. You are fully invested in his journey. Although it looks effortless on screen, there is clearly a lot of preparation behind this. The training, the timing, the precision of camera placement, all of it has been done with care.

IndieWire says this about the canine’s performance: “one of the most emotive actors of his generation, regardless of species.” I agree. I cannot remember another dog performance that has left me this stunned. Dog films usually make you laugh or cry or feel a sense of warmth. They often carry messages of loyalty, companionship or healing. But here, I was engaged because of the dog’s sheer emotional pull. I could not take my eyes off him. That is the magic of this film.

Made on a modest budget of $750000, Good Boy, went onto gross $8M worldwide from its theatrical release. Commendable for a small film with high ambitions.

Verdict:

Despite its limitations, Good Boy challenges you as a viewer and keeps you emotionally invested. It is technically inventive, smart in its writing, and more layered than it first appears. At the heart of it all is a protagonist, a dog, whose emotive ability is mesmerizing. Indy carries the film like a star.

IMDb rating: 6.2 out of 10
My rating: 3.5 out of 5

Good Boy is currently running in select theatres in India.

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

by whatsonsidsmind

Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1 Review | Rishab Shetty Expands the Universe with Power and Poise

Written by Siddhartha Krishnan | 9 Min Read

Kantara (2022) arrived quietly as a small film with a big heart. Made on a modest budget of around ₹16 crore, it went on to storm the box office, grossing nearly ₹450 crore worldwide. It wasn’t just a commercial phenomenon; it was a cultural one. In my review (read here) of the first instalment, I had written that it was “a film that broke the mould.” One that made audiences rethink what ‘rooted in culture’ truly means. What I meant was that unless a filmmaker stays true to the world they are creating, there can be no originality or authenticity.

So when Rishab Shetty returned with the prequel, Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1, the stakes were monumental. The first film was high on imagination yet grounded in simplicity. With a reported budget of ₹125 crore and nearly three years in the making, the director brings a mythic origin story that, ever since its trailer release, has caught the public imagination. But does it live up to its legacy? Does it take the world of Kantara somewhere new?

The Story:

The story unfolds during the reign of the Kadamba dynasty nearly 1500 years ago. The royal kingdom has set its sights on the rich spices that grow deep within the forests of Kantara, treasures that could open the doors to foreign trade and overflowing coffers. But these sacred spice gardens are protected by the Daivas, and when King Vijayendra of Bangra dares to trespass into them with his men, he is struck down by the gods of the forest.

His son, Rajashekhara, consumed by vengeance, bides his time, waiting for the right moment to annihilate the tribal guardians of Kantara. His heir, Kulashekhara, who ascends the throne next, is far less patient, self-absorbed, impulsive, and blinded by power. His sister, Kanakavathi, serves as a counterpoint, measured, empathetic, and intent on finding a middle ground where the royals and the natives can coexist in mutual benefit.

It is in this volatile landscape that we meet Berme, a native of Kantara whose origins are veiled in mystery. A man of fierce ambition and indomitable spirit, he sees through the injustice of the barter system that keeps his people in servitude. Determined to reclaim their dignity, Berme sets out on a perilous journey into the heart of the royal kingdom to demand their rightful share.

What unfolds is a tale steeped in fantasy, mythology, folklore, and magical realism, a layered narrative of resistance and belief, where the battle between the natives and the settlers becomes as much spiritual as it is territorial.

Production Design:

World-building has been the greatest strength of all the Shetty brothers’ films. They have an uncanny knack for getting their worlds pitch-perfect, regardless of budget or scale.

Such a feat is never the work of one man. It demands an expert team. Leading that effort is Vinesh Banglan, the art director, whose previous works include Home (2021) and Kurup (2022). In an interview with Cinema Express, Banglan said, “In the hands of Rishab Shetty, Kundapura became a living, breathing world in Kantara: Chapter 1. Every frame tells a story, every detail resonates, and the land itself becomes a character.” He went on to explain how Rishab took his time to walk him through the region’s culture, its landscape, and eventually the story itself. The focus, from the very beginning, was clearly on detailing — something no one can fault either instalment for.

Every frame feels carefully composed. Whether it’s the village of Kantara nestled deep within the forests of Tulu Nadu, the grand kingdom of Kulashekhara, or the bustling Bangra port, each space feels alive and tangible.

Banglan credits Arvind Kashyap, the cinematographer of both films, for introducing him to Rishab. Anyone who has seen the film would agree — this was a collaboration that elevated the franchise, perfectly matching its scale and ambition.

Cinematography:

Arvind Kashyap’s cinematography retains the visual brilliance of the first instalment and goes a step further, elevated by the prequel’s intense action scenes. His masterful play of light continues to define the film’s visual language, but what stands out here is his ability to capture high-octane sequences with remarkable control and intelligence. The camera is purposeful, never showy, reflecting a deep understanding of rhythm and movement. It is evident that Rishab and Arvind share a creative synergy, each attuned to the other’s instincts and the demands of the script.

Prosthetics:

The prosthetics and makeup department, led by Suresh Kumar and Ronex Xavier, also make a significant contribution to the film’s immersive realism. Their craftsmanship lends authenticity to each transformation, making the characters both believable and textured. The most striking example is the character of Mayakara, brought to life through a seamless blend of prosthetics and visual effects. The VFX never overwhelms; it remains subtle, serving the story rather than distracting from it.

Costume Design:

Another standout element of Kantara: Chapter 1 is the costume design by Pragathi Shetty, Rishab Shetty’s wife. In a film of such scale and ambition, it would have been easy to drift into excess, but her work remains grounded, meticulous, and true to the world of Kantara. Each garment feels lived-in and purposeful, reflecting a deep respect for period accuracy and cultural authenticity. It is a testament to how thoughtful design can enhance storytelling, deserving of recognition from discerning viewers.

Screenplay:

I watched the film with my family and friends, including my ten-year-old son and his best friend. One lingering concern before the screening was whether the children would be able to follow the story, and if the film might slow down into stretches that would test their patience. Thankfully, it never does. The boys were absorbed from start to finish, which speaks volumes about how effectively Rishab Shetty weaves folklore and fantasy to build the magical world of Kantara. It is easy to forget that he has also written the film, but his deep understanding of this world, its rhythms, beliefs, and conflicts, shines through every frame.

Action Choreography:

Another reason the film holds attention so completely is its thrilling action. Those who have seen it will agree that much of the runtime is devoted to some form of combat or confrontation, with the remaining portions dedicated to character reveals and plot turns. Given this structure, the action had to deliver, and it does. Choreographers Todor Lazarov, Arjun Raj, and the duo Ram-Lakshman have crafted intelligent, visually engaging sequences that keep viewers at the edge of their seats. The precision and scale of these moments elevate the film, making them impossible to overlook.

Performances:

The narrative centers around four key characters, Berme (Rishab Shetty), Rajashekhara (Jayaram), Kulashekhara (Gulshan Devaiah), and Kanakavathi (Rukmini Vasanth). One of the strengths of Rishab’s writing lies in how he ensures that each of them has a clear purpose within the story. Their arcs unfold rapidly but meaningfully, and every performance leaves a mark. Rishab is at the top of his game, while Gulshan Devaiah, as his formidable counterpart, delivers a standout performance that lingers long after the credits roll.

Flaws:

Where the film stumbles slightly is in its use of humor. A few jokes during the action sequences infused to lighten the mood feel misplaced and fail to land. This cannot be attributed to translation issues since I watched the film in Kannada, its original language.

The romantic thread between Berme and Kanakavathi is another weak link. It feels forced, underwritten, and unnecessary, echoing one of the few criticisms directed at the first instalment. Given the otherwise tight storytelling, this subplot could have been handled with greater depth or restraint.

But these are minor hiccups that hardly dull the impact of the final product. The pacing of the film, elevated by Ajaneesh Loknath’s stirring background score, keeps the audience engrossed throughout. There are several mythological references that might not be entirely understood by those unfamiliar with the culture of coastal Karnataka, yet the way these elements are woven into the narrative makes for a thoroughly engaging watch.

In an interview with film critic Baradwaj Rangan, Rishab mentioned that he prefers not to explain his interpretations of the story, especially the parts that leave the audience with questions. He said, “What I feel is that the audience should talk about it based on their perspective. I feel that’s beautiful. They will have many versions, think about it from many angles. I’m enjoying seeing all of that.” He even admits that, at times, it’s through the audience that he gains new insights into his own film, ideas he might carry forward into the next chapter.

This openness reflects Rishab’s evolution as a filmmaker, a sincere student of cinema who values how his stories resonate with audiences while remaining true to his craft.

Conclusion:

I watched Kantara: A Legend Chapter 1 in a packed Bengaluru theatre in its third week, hoping to be surprised and quietly praying that the creators hadn’t been swayed by their own artistry or the avalanche of acclaim that followed the first film. The fear, of course, was that Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1 might become a noisy spectacle, all show and no soul. Thankfully, I was wrong. I walked out of the theatre happy.

This is a film made for the big screen, immersive, richly detailed, and deeply rooted in its world. It is a painstakingly crafted work that balances spectacle with sincerity, folklore with fantasy. The result is a worthy successor that draws the audience in and holds them captive until the very end.

It is a film that Kannada cinema can take pride in, not without its flaws, but one that never loses its heart. I enjoyed this long, immersive prequel, and not once during its runtime did I find myself bored. Because despite its expanded scope, Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1 plays to its greatest strength: its rootedness.

With this chapter, Rishab Shetty once again proves his ability to blend myth, folklore, mystery, and emotion into something that feels both personal and universal. The film does not just expand the world of Kantara; it deepens it, leaving us eager for what comes next.

Verdict:
IMDb rating: 8.5/10
My rating: 3.5/5

Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1 is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

Pic credits: Hombale Films

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

by whatsonsidsmind

Lokah: Chapter 1 – Chandra | Movie Review | A Visionary Cinematic Universe Born from the Love of Cinema

Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 2 Min Read

Finally, a film that restores faith in the magic of cinema and the art of storytelling. Lokah proves you don’t need an extravagant budget to create a visionary film—passion is enough to drive creativity, and sheer audacity.

Several moments left me wondering: How did they shoot this? How did they even think of this? Especially, some of the transitions! For the first time in a long while, I walked out of a theatre with a genuine smile.

At its heart, Lokah is powered by strong writing—something Malayalam cinema is consistently excelling at. Though described as a “female superhero film,” it is far more ambitious: an entire universe has been conceived, with its characters, its world, its politics and the arcs of how it may all unfold. Nothing feels improvised; it feels as though every beat was already on paper. That’s the mark of great storytelling and intelligent screenwriting.

The performances add to this conviction. Not once do the actors veer into the over-the-top theatrics that superhero films often invite. Kalyani Priyadarshan, in the titular role, completely owns her part, grounding the story with both power and restraint.

Yes, the film has its flaws. The first half moves at a slightly measured pace as the makers take time to set up the world and its players. Yet sharp, well-written comedic moments keep the audience engaged, nudging them towards an interval that immerses you fully into the universe of Lokah.

Rooted in Kerala’s folklore and myths yet reimagined with modern conviction, Lokah: Chapter 1 – Chandra delivers a fresh, powerful, and deeply satisfying cinematic experience. Kudos to the makers for daring—and succeeding.

Go watch Lokah in a theatre next to you.

IMDb rating: 8.2/10
My rating: 4/5

Pic credit: Wayfarer Films

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his articles, essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

All rights reserved by http://www.whatsonsidsmind.com

by whatsonsidsmind

Movie Review | Absurd, Unsettling and Hilarious: Sanctuary Hijacks your Brain in 90 Minutes

Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 2 Min Read

It takes Sanctuary (trailer) about 40 minutes, from posturing as absurdist fiction, to transform into a no-holds-barred psychological revenge drama cum rom-com — if that makes any sense. It’s a template I haven’t seen before, a plot so out of whack it’s like discovering a dinosaur fossil on the moon.

The story follows Hal, who is about to inherit his father’s multi-million-dollar hotel chain after his untimely death. Before that, he wants to end his long-term, secret relationship with a dominatrix, Rebecca — something she had no clue was coming. What follows is a psychological game between the two, in a hotel room, where Rebecca seems to have the upper hand.

The screenplay is dominated by long conversations that take a while to make sense. But they’re entertaining, and above all, they are probes into the human mind and the lengths it will go to once the survival instinct kicks in.

For a film that was shot in just 18 days Sanctuary is hilarious, outlandish, unsettling, and jaw-dropping. Christopher Abbott and Margaret Qualley are brilliant in their roles. Most of the acting is shot in tight close-ups, and Qualley kills it whenever she’s on screen. Her range is truly a gift.

Make no mistake Sanctuary is not for everyone, but if you like absurdist fiction, mind benders, films that don’t fit into a specific genre, or ones that subvert genres, give this a go. At just 90 minutes, this is an intelligently written, brilliantly acted laugh riot that churns your stomach, leaves you in splits, and makes you question: What have I just watched?

Verdict:

IMDb rating: 6.2/10
My rating: 3.5/5

Sanctuary is streaming on JioHotstar in India.

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

by whatsonsidsmind

My Movie Reviews are Now on YouTube! | Announcement | Whatsonsidsmind

Dear All,

Just barging into your feed to make a quick, small announcement. My film reviews are now available on my YouTube channel. I’ve chosen to do so to connect with a larger audience who prefer the visual medium. At the same time, I thought it’s a good way for them to be introduced to my blog. So hoping it works both ways.

So far I’ve uploaded two reviews; that of Adolescence and A Real Pain. Hoping to upload a lot more in the coming days. I am sharing the links to both these reviews below –

Adolescence – https://youtu.be/uIe2FT9t90U?si=tRQxfdgmF0v89DOj

A Real Pain – https://youtu.be/_enAzehioT8?si=dPuADHTKmOduxDqQ

Do check out these videos, and subscribe to my channel if you like what you see.

Thank you for your support as always.

Much love,

Sid

by whatsonsidsmind

Family, History and Heartache: Why A Real Pain Stays with You

Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 3 Min Read

The problem with reviewing a film like A Real Pain is that it’s easy to get swept up in over-intellectualizing every aspect of it. In doing so, there’s a risk of missing the quiet simplicity the film also exudes. That said, it’s hard to put into words exactly what this film does to you as an audience.

The story begins at the airport, where David and Benji are about to board a flight to Poland. The brothers have planned a Jewish heritage tour, funded by money left to them by their late grandmother. Through this journey, they hope to reconnect with their Jewish roots and confront the horrors of the Holocaust that their grandmother survived. Their itinerary includes a visit to the home she once lived in and was forced to flee from during the war.

But beyond tracing their grandmother’s past, the brothers—once close—also hope to rebuild their own fractured relationship. Given their vastly different personalities, that seems like a near-impossible task.

From the outset, it’s evident that A Real Pain isn’t driven by plot. Written and directed by Jesse Eisenberg, (who also plays the role of David), the film has no dramatic twists or grand narrative arcs. Even as it takes the shape of a travelogue, the film resists the temptation of a sweeping, cinematic canvas. When the characters arrive at historically significant locations, the focus remains firmly on their personal reactions rather than the historical context—those details are mere passing references.

And yet, the screenplay remains compelling. It navigates a delicate spectrum of confusion, empathy, and detachment that the characters experience in the shadow of these haunted places. There is a lot of humor, but beneath all those funny lines and chaotic moments, there is something profound and deep. It’s the bedrock of the film and you get a sense of it from the very beginning.

In one of the film’s best scenes, while travelling first class, Benji is unable to reconcile the luxury they’re enjoying with the brutal history of those very tracks, once used to transport their ancestors to concentration camps. He suggests they move to economy class out of respect, but the others dismiss the idea, unwilling to share his discomfort. Frustrated, Benji exits the compartment in quiet protest.

This film, in terms of its acting performances, does not give a staged feel. It was fluid in a way that makes you question whether it’s a story that is unfolding or something that demands your immediate attention, for the realism of it all. It’s fiction at its best, when lies say very true things. For me, that was Kieran Culkin’s performance in this movie. He brought so much of himself into the film that I didn’t know how much was him and how much was the part he was playing.

On The Graham Norton Show, where both actors appeared together, Kieran revealed that Jesse cast him without having seen any of his work. Having known him somewhat, Jesse said he cast him based on his “essence.” This may sound bizarre—especially for a part he had originally written for himself, drawn from his own family history and a Jewish heritage trip he had taken years earlier.

However, after watching some of Kieran’s promotional interviews, his real-life persona feels remarkably similar to that of Benji. That said, he also admitted in those interviews that he wasn’t initially convinced about taking the role. But thankfully, for movie lovers, things fell into place. It couldn’t have been any other way—so far as the casting of Benji and David goes, both were perfect for their roles.

Kieran now has an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor to show for his efforts. The character of Benji is, without a doubt, the true standout of the film—dynamic, wild, and impossible to ignore. Eisenberg writes him with such finesse; he’s someone you both hate and love at the same time. Someone you don’t want to be, yet are easily enchanted by.

The way David navigates Benji’s chaotic presence is what makes A Real Pain such a deeply fulfilling watch. The backdrop of a troubled family Holocaust history gives the film its much-needed layers. But at its core, it remains very much a family drama—intimate, relatable, one that will stay with you.

IMDb rating – 7.1/10

My Rating – 4/5

A Real Pain is streaming on JioHotstar in India.

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About the author –

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his articles, essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

All rights of this review reserved by whatsonsidsmind.com

by whatsonsidsmind

Adolescence | Review | A Haunting Dive into the “Why” of a Crime | Netflix

Written by Siddhartha Krishnan | 4 Min Read

Adolescence is a hard-hitting British drama series that defies categorization, shifting genres across its four episodes. It begins as a police procedural, evolves into a social drama, delves into the realm of an investigative/psychological thriller, and culminates in a family drama. But it’s true novelty lies not in this fluidity, but in its multifaceted exploration of a difficult subject—examining it from every angle with unflinching depth. Equally striking is its execution, with masterful cinematography and meticulously crafted scenes that leave a lasting impact.

The miniseries wastes no time, opening with the arrest of 13-year-old Jamie Miller, accused of murdering his schoolmate—a girl his own age. The police claim to have enough evidence to charge him, thrusting his parents into a nightmare they never saw coming. They believe in their son’s innocence; in the values they instilled in him. This is where the contract is signed with the audience, by writers Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham, and what follows makes for some gripping cinema. Graham also co-creates the series, and stars as Jamie’s father. His performance is one of the highlights of Adolescence.

One of the series’ most striking feature is its use of single continuous shots—each episode, nearly an hour long, unfolds without a single cut. The sheer planning and precision required to pull off such a feat is staggering, but the payoff is undeniable. This technique immerses the audience completely, whether inside the Millers’ home, a police station, a school, or even a moving car. The cinematography heightens the urgency, drawing viewers deeper into the unfolding tension.

However, at times, the dialogue feels repetitive. This may be an intentional choice—adding to the realism and avoiding a staged feel—but in places, particularly in the second episode, it slows the momentum. A tighter edit could have sharpened the impact without losing the authenticity.

The third episode is the standout, centering on the tense interrogation of 13-year-old, Jamie (Owen Cooper) by psychologist Briony (Erin Doherty). It plays like a film in itself—raw, emotionally charged, and deeply engaging. Both actors deliver spontaneous, natural performances that heighten the episode’s intensity, making every exchange feel immediate and real.

It’s in this episode that Adolescence truly soars, unraveling its deeper intentions. When asked to classify the series, Erin Doherty cited writer Jack Thorne, saying, “It’s not a whodunnit but a whydunnit.” The show isn’t just about solving a crime—it’s about understanding the motivations behind it. The creators dig deep into the psychology of their characters, examining parenting, masculinity, sexuality, peer pressure, and the relentless need for validation among teenagers in the age of social media.

Adolescence deserves to be in the Emmy conversation next year across multiple categories. Watching it, I was reminded of Baby Reindeer, another British drama that swept the 2024 Emmys. Both series tackle difficult subjects with unflinching depth, refusing to look away. And like Baby Reindeer, Adolescence is not an easy watch.

Here, the prime accused—if we were to call this a crime drama—is a teenager. The devastation his family endures is harrowing, making parts of the series deeply unsettling. Yet, it ends on a note of hope, particularly in its exploration of parenting. It confronts generational trauma—how it seeps through unnoticed, despite our best efforts, shaping us in ways beyond our control.

With its powerhouse performances, gripping screenplay, and fearless honesty, Adolescence is essential viewing—especially for parents and teenagers.

Verdict:

IMDb rating – 8.4/10

My Rating – 4/5

Adolescence is now streaming on Netflix.

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his articles, essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

by whatsonsidsmind

Black Warrant – A Prison Drama that Locks You In

Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 3 Min Read

When we think of prison dramas, classics like The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, and Escape from Alcatraz come to mind. Unfortunately, Indian films have rarely explored this genre in depth. While a few films have touched upon it, none have left a lasting impact. This is the reason why Black Warrant, a TV series conceived by Vikramaditya Motwane and Satyanshu Singh, and helmed by six directors, instantly piqued my interest. The fact that it is based on real-life incidents from India’s most notorious prison makes it even more compelling.

Based on the book by Sunetra Choudhury and Sunil Gupta, Black Warrant follows Gupta’s journey as a rookie jailer at Tihar Jail. Set in the 1980s, it unravels real-life events from his perspective, offering a rare, unfiltered glimpse into Tihar jail.

The series’ greatest strength lies in its razor-sharp screenplay by Satyanshu Singh and Arkesh Ajay. From the very first scene, it grips you—tense, fast-paced, and laced with unexpected humor. In an interview with film critic Baradwaj Rangan, journalist and author, Sunetra Choudhury talks about how the screenplay focused on aspects of the book that would make for compelling cinema.

The writing is intelligent, layered, and relentlessly engaging. Many scenes feel fresh and unlike anything seen before in Indian TV shows. Some kept me on the edge of my seat, others left me deep in thought, and a few even made me laugh out loud—a rare combination that makes Black Warrant truly exceptional from a writing standpoint.

Another standout aspect of the show is its impeccable casting and performances. Every actor fits their role like a glove, bringing authenticity through nuanced expressions, effortless improvisations, pitch-perfect dialogue delivery, and spot-on accents.

Among them, Rahul Bhat as DSP Rajesh Tomar and Zahan Kapoor as Sunil Gupta deliver compelling performances. Sidhant Gupta as Charles Sobhraj steals the show whenever he’s on screen, armed with some of the series’ best lines. He portrays the serial killer as a celebrity, delivering the show’s most philosophical one-liners.

The production design is also exceptional, meticulously recreating the era while keeping the storytelling sharp and modern. The editing is crisp, leaving no loose ends, making Black Warrant an engrossing, fast-paced thriller—despite being set within the confines of a prison.

Verdict:

Black Warrant is a must-watch for fans of the genre. It transports you to a bygone era, peeling back the layers of India’s most infamous prison with gripping storytelling and immersive detail. Riveting, raw, and unexpectedly entertaining—this is prison drama at its finest.

IMDb Rating: 8.1/10
My Rating: ★★★★☆

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his articles, essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).