My favourite Indian films of 2018
Sorry for the wait this year. 2018 in the movies mirrored my own life a lot; the films on the list are films to love, make you feel something human, and they force you to take their characters and hold them close to your chest as if they were your own. While the most interesting mainstream movies from South Asia over previous years on this blog have excelled when they chose to experiment with the language of cinema itself, the 10 I’ve written about here have, similar to great literature, embraced pain, longing, love and everything else that comes with being alive.
10. Theevandi
I’ve seen this film being described as an “anti-smoking movie.” I couldn’t disagree more. It’s a story about the nature of habit (rather than the disease of ‘addiction’), of locating the source of your personality, your soul, and trying to change it against the will of nature. During my time in India this year, nothing brought more joy than an ice burst and cutting tea at the side of the road, perching on the side of the pavement and watching life carry on around you. And while this is a film with a main character who wants to quit smoking, it isn’t about cancer. It isn’t about that horrible sooty smell at the end of your fingers, or yellowing teeth or a decreased sperm count. It’s about how something as innocuous as a tube of rolled up tobacco hanging out of your mouth can act as a fragile crutch for the entire weight of the world.
9. Laila Majnu
Like many of my favourites this year (and every year), this re-telling of one of South Asia’s most important romances wants to know what love is. Here, we see love not as a generous, giving emotion, but as pure greed. With one of Bollywood’s most gorgeous soundtracks, that bleeds furiously out of every frame, and a constant sparkling gleam of glamour over these gorgeous young actors and the Kashmiri hills they prance around in, I enjoyed this enough just based on the commercial tropes it toys with for fun. But its real beauty lies in its brave and painful final declaration; that the most divine love may connect you to God and remove your soul from your body, but it will destroy you and your connections to the Earth, as the cruelest form of asceticism.
8. Cake
I’m including a Pakistani movie (again) because our film industries were birthed under one national identity, and I don’t see the studios of Karachi as any more culturally distant from Mumbai’s Film City than Kodambakkam. Moving to Cake, this stunning portrait of a dysfunctional family surprised me against all my instincts that it was a Western-facing production clearly aimed at piercing its way into festivals and a patronising ‘World Cinema’ bracket. It is in fact, a study of shifting societal politics in an increasingly extreme and polarised World, of figuring out where your values stand in the midst of religion, feudalism and globalisation, and accepting that when these heavy, abstract concepts weigh down on your shoulders, it is the human beings around you who will feel the strain first.
7. Golak, Bugni, Bank Te Batua
I really love Punjabi cinema. Seeing it come into its own and reclaim its cultural narratives and aesthetics from bastardizing Bollywood (where now even a film set in rural Gujarat will feature a Punjabi language song) has brought a lot of joy. Now here comes a happy little film not set on preaching the glory of Sikkhi or telling an epic tale of brave warriors or earnest farmers, but on bringing us into the lives of a middle class Hindu Punjabi family in a small mohalla of a tier 2 city. And these aren’t the Hindu “Punjabis” of a Bollywood movie set in Chandni Chowk, who might throw in a “tussi” or “tuadi” here and there at the most. These are real people with a real culture, as intertwined with Punjab and their Sikh neighbours as they are separate. The film doesn’t patronise them by drawing humour from their novel identity; the situational character-based slapstick and witty back-and-forth theatrical dialogues exist in a warm parallel with the “World” of the movie. And then the lives of these people change in one instant as demonetisation hits, and we are hilariously reminded that whether you’re Hindu or Sikh, Northern or Southern, you are (unfortunately) still in India.
6. C/o Kancharapalem
I won't say this film stood out as a "Telugu movie", as such slight, subtle films are an anomaly no matter what language they're made in or how brash those other films produced in the same mother tongue may be. These small and quiet tales, with their shy characters who live at the fringes of society, whether that mean they are Muslim prostitutes or simple middle class teachers carving out a living in a small village, are special because they manage to transmit such humanity without stirring from the dark alleyways or shaded courtyards where they take place. Not every film needs to stand tall like an intimdsting Tolstoy tome; some can be as unassuming as an RK Narayan novella and still make us feel like they're an epic.
5. Pyaar Prema Kaadhal
Let's be honest. Casting two leads from a reality show, putting heart shaped balloons in your posters and deciding on the title "Love, Love, Love" pretty much screams "trash" doesn't it? But here was a humbling reminder that Indian popular culture can surprise you in the most pleasant of ways. These two good-looking young wannabe-stars and their social media followings represent so much about the "new India", a steadfastly singular culture (or cultures) whizzing through the fiery hoops of globalisation at breakneck speed, coming to terms with a mixed up value system, raging sexual frustration and an ever widening class gap, all of which have left a generation feeling more connected yet more alienated than ever before. This is 'Pyaar, Prema, Kaadhal', a flawed and horny love story, sweating with tension and all the repulsive angst of human emotion, yet with the glamorous musical heart of Indian cinema still beating loudly underneath.
4. Manmarziyaan
There was as much to love about 'Manmarziyaan' as there was to hate. The age-old filmi love triangle rears its head again, only this time with characters who are more manipulative and frustrating than any you've seen in a "mainstream" movie before. But while the film never forces you to judge (at times leaving you confused about whether you're actually supposed to like any of these people) it demands that you engage. It's encouraged some of the finest writing on cinema I've seen in recent years, and such an unashamedly "Bollywood" film inspiring this thrilling thought and analysis from our finest critics (whether their judgement is kind or not) warrants its inclusion on this list alone. Then there's the way its incredible soundtrack weaves in and out of scenes like the characters own breaths, the way life changing moments are obscured from the script by deafening silences and acutely observed minutiae, and of course THAT lead performance. I'm not sure if I "liked" it or not, but I sure as hell can't wait to watch it again.
3. Pari
The better the film, the harder it is to write about. 'Pari' is rich with metaphor. While being a ghost story (and a damn good one) merely on the surface, it has plenty to say about the way our society treats women, poses the question of if we can truly be born evil, and even critiques our savage treatment of "the other" in a global society where more of us are on the run than settled in our homes. But I think its biggest strength is that while it challenges you to reach into the very centre of your being and take a look at yourself and the World around you, its craft and screenwriting is so good that not at any moment does it give you a second to realise that's what you're doing.
2. Rangasthalam
'Rangasthalam' is so great. Like really really great. Once an innocuous muscle man, Ram Charan has channelled his inner Dhanush and located his physicality, writhing and slanging his way into the mind and body of the quintessential South Indian rural hero, hoisting his lungi and flicking his beedi into one of the most visceral and truly cinematic masala movies in living memory. The thumping pace and kinetic choreography (both of the rousing song sequences and the busy, lived-in frames of the rest of the movie) evoke a dusty, violent world with the same panache of Ameer in 'Paruthiveeran' or Sasikumar in 'Subramaniyapuram', while the moustache twirling dialogues and meticulous emotional beats offer as much pure fun as a "Dabangg" or a "Khakee" or any classic Hindi masala movie. I've read pieces linking the cinema of 'Rangasthalam' to film noir traditions, but to me it simply proved that the masala genre still has as much excitement to offer as any other.
1. Mukkabaaz
I'll remember 2018 as the year that Anurag Kashyap, previously India's frontrunner in the realm of "interesting" (but more often headscatching) cinema, stopped thinking with his very big brain and instead used his even bigger heart. His most straightforward film is undoubtedly his best, Hollywood-esque in its writing but firmly Indian in its sentiment. The scale is small - empty boxing arenas, bleak winding village paths and a cast plucked from the TV screen - but its emotions are pure opera. This is a timeless film, and though it laughs at the ridiculousness of modern India, poking a nasty smug finger at caste oppression, petty politics and the bureaucratic nightmare of simply trying to stay alive, it defies analysis. Much like the song at the centre of the story, the violently stunning 'Paintra', it only asks that you feel. And what more could we want from cinema?
I've had so much fun at the movies this year. From dancing to Dilbar in the cheap seats of G7 in Bandra to reciting Dhanush's Maari 2 dialogues at the bus stop outside Ilford Cineworld, Indian movies have continued to punctuate my life and bring me more joy than they have any right to. I can't wait to do this all again this year. What were the films that stirred you over the last 12 months? Let me know. Xx
