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Sahir Avik D’souza

Sahir Avik D’souza

Articles (1)

The 100 best Bollywood movies

The 100 best Bollywood movies

We need to talk about Bollywood. Not as a source of magnificently uplifting movies with great songs and flamboyant costumes – that’s a given – but as a term. For the purposes of this list we’re using it as a catch-all for the full multitude of Indian film industries. This, we know, will upset purists who’ll point out – correctly – that it should only be used to refer to the Hindi film industry based in Mumbai. But rightly or wrongly, the term has come to represent Indian cinema more broadly – taking in everything from the Telugu-language films of Hyderabad to the very un-Bollywood work of Kolkata great Satyajit Ray. It’s an imperfect framework to examine a complex, multilingual film culture, but it’s a great way to introduce a tonne of worthy movies to dive into. Which brings us to our next dilemma, because choosing a definitive ‘best-of’ list is an impossible task. Our top 100 is a bulging, wildly varied collection of our favourites: there are rom-coms like Jab We Met, canonical ‘curry westerns’ like Sholay, eternal romantic touchstones like Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, modern classics like Swades and Barfi!, and art-house staples like Ardh Satya and Ankur. Between them all, they’re proof that Bollywood is both more than, and the epitome of, song-and-dance cinema. And whether you’re looking for musicals, action, comedy or romance, there’s something here for you. RECOMMENDED: 🇮🇳 The 11 best Bollywood songs🔥 The 100 best movies of all time🎌 The 50 best foreign language fi

Listings and reviews (3)

Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom

Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom

3 out of 5 stars

In Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom, Ugyen Dorji (Sherab Dorji) is being trained to be a teacher in his native Thimphu, Bhutan, but he wants to go to Australia to become a singer. He doesn’t feel connected to his country or his people. He then makes a physical journey that will stimulate an emotional journey – to his roots, to his culture, to his purpose. Lunana was nominated for the Oscar for Best International Feature Film last year. Made almost entirely in Bhutan by debutant Pawo Choyning Dorji, it was the first Bhutanese movie to be nominated in that category. It’s set in Lunana, an unbelievably remote mountain settlement of 56 individuals. It took Dorji and his crew eight days to trek there, with mules to carry all their equipment. In the film, a very reluctant Ugyen must make the same journey when he is sent to teach at the Lunana school. He’s an unpleasant traveller, grumbling to his indulgent guides, dragging his feet and signalling the end of any interaction by sliding his headphones on. Those cans are symbols of his urban, Westernised existence. But as he approaches Lunana, the batteries die. If he is to forge a connection with the villagers of Lunana, and his students, he must shake off his city trappings. This Oscar-nomined drama is suffused with a warm glow One small quibble is that we’re never in any doubt that Ugyen will forge that connection. When he declines to join his guides’ folk singing, saying, “I don’t sing such songs,” you know by the end he will. Still,

Till

Till

4 out of 5 stars

In 1955, 14-year-old Emmett Till (Jalyn Hall) was taken by force from his cousins’ house in Mississippi, assaulted and murdered. Emmett’s mother Mamie Till-Mobley (The Harder They Fall’s Danielle Deadwyler) insisted that the world see how her son’s body had been brutalised. She held an open-casket funeral and invited journalists to photograph the body, creating images that were widely distributed in newspapers and spurred on the Civil Rights movement. In Till, Clemency director Chinonye Chukwu powerfully memorialises Mamie’s call to bear witness. From the opening shot, when a low-angle camera rises gradually to frame Mamie’s face, Chukwu and cinematographer Bobby Bukowski’s inventive visual style asks us to observe and witness this remarkable woman. To witness her grief and despair at Emmett’s death, but in earlier scenes, also to witness her thrumming nervousness at the threats this racist society holds for her son. As his train leaves the platform, drawing him away from his mother, and safety, the camera zooms in on her anxious face. A startling cut-to-black ramps up the foreboding.For Emmett has been raised in relatively liberal Chicago, a bright, smiling, upbeat boy who is blind to the racial hatred of the conservative South. He doesn’t know what Mamie knows: that if he doesn’t toe the segregated line, he will be killed.  The inventive visual style asks us to observe and witness this remarkable woman When the tragic news is delivered to Mamie, Chukwu underpins the shock o

Nanny

Nanny

4 out of 5 stars

This assured debut from director Nikyatu Jusu is the story of Aisha (Anna Diop, fierce), who immigrates to the US from Senegal for the proverbial ‘better life’. Nanny is co-produced by horror studio Blumhouse, but don’t expect jump scares. Instead, a creepy thread runs through a film that, at its heart, is really a wrenching drama about immigrant mothers, separated families, raising children and guilt. Aisha, who has a master’s degree in English and French, works as a nanny for Rose (Rose Decker), the child of a white couple, Amy (Michelle Monaghan) and Adam (Morgan Spector). She saves money to bring her son over from Senegal. Jusu, who wrote the film, illustrates this simple storyline with mythical resonances, race relations, recurring themes and a striking visual style. Cinematographer Rina Yang, fresh off her memorable work in Taylor Swift’s All Too Well: The Short Film, uses sharply coloured lighting and low-angle frames to create a brooding menace. Adding to the atmosphere are the African myths that are weaved into the film’s fabric and visuals. Aisha reads Rose a picture book about Anansi the spider, a trickster West African god, while Aisha’s boyfriend’s grandmother (Leslie Uggams) tells her about a water spirit called Mami Wata. It swings with aplomb from moments of tenderness and lightness to tragedy and cruelty Aisha describes Anansi as physically small, so he must rely on his intelligence. Something similar applies to Aisha herself: she has no capital in this new