A SOBERINg MEDICAL THRILLER INTELLIgENT AND fUNNy!

moves on two different levels: the headline-inspired pseudo-documentary and the sprawling soap opera that life often throws open in situations that we see as too unreal to be happening.

The performances in both the first-half (the medical drama) and the secondhalf (the courtroom conflict) are all supremely poised. The actors assume brilliancy without getting compromised by the need to shine. Tisca Arora’s bereaved mother’s act is so real and restrained! She gives us goosebumps when after her son’s death, she gets busy on her smartphone to fob off the terrible reality of the tragedy. Really, Tisca is one of our most underrated actresses. Kay Kay Menon rediscovers the aweinspiring actor within himself with a performance that leaves us repelled and fascinated. Arjun Mathur as the daring intern who takes on the mighty medicine man exudes integrity without brimming over with righteous indignation. In an era when all our filmy heroes are growing stubbles and trying to look mean, Arjun plays a true-blue old-fashioned hero (the kind who used to fight for the truth) in a very contemporary context and style. Indeed, this is a far cleverer, wiser and relevant film than much of what we get to see these days. At a time when Bollywood is raining bubbles and effervescence about jawaani deewanis and yamla paglas, this sobering medical thriller comes as an invigorating cloudburst. Bursting at the seams with acting talent, director Suhail Tatari’s restorative drama hits us where it hurts the most. The conscience.

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Fu KR ey

STArring: Pulkit Samrat, Richa Chadda, Manjot Singh, Ali Fazal, Varun Sharma, Vishakha Singh, Priya Anand and Pankaj Tripathi

DirECTor: Mrigdeep Singh Lamba

There is something about the theatre of the absurd that brings on a volley of unwarranted nonsense in our filmmakers.

Not this time. Fukrey, about an eclectic bunch of no-good students poised between a rapidly-receding adolescence and a reluctant manhood, is far funnier, more intelligent and deftly executed than the recent, much-lauded Kai Po Che

And yes, though the boys think and talk a lot about sex, there is a refreshing absence of double-entendre.

With its inventive plot and wickedly dead-on characterisations, Fukrey is the kind of rare comedy where the actors take to their roles without considering their own ambitions. Each actor shines in his or her allotted corner and yet manages to merge with writer-director Lamba’s larger scheme of things.

And gosh, what schemers masquerading as daydreamers this delicious romp into Delhi’s rumbling underbelly throws forward! The film visits places in Delhi where the stereotypes of middle-class life (girl courting boy from adjacent rooftop, working-class boy dreaming of attending a college filled with girls in short skirts, rave parties etc) flicker into shapes we have never seen before.

It’s a familiar world recreated with warmth and humour. Delhi, as shot by cinematographer K. U. Mohanan, never seemed more designed to demonise young dreams, not even in Shoojit Sircar’s Vicky Donor. Sperms maybe bankable. Youthful dreams are the real financial challenge.

It’s not just the ingenuity of the technicians that gives Fukrey its fresh flavour. It gets its palpable energy from its characters. These are youngsters whom we know, and probably don’t want to know.

There’s the embarrassingly named Choocha (Varun Sharma) who dreams of winning the lottery, and his cocky over-confident buddy Hunny (Pulkit Samrat) who interprets Choocha’s getrich-quick-by-hook-or-crook schemes. Their dreams of admission into a college of short-skirted girls is fuelled by a college watchman Pankaj Tripathi, who can make even the commonest English word sound like an abuse.

Other characters - a mithaiwallah’s somber son (Manjot Singh) and a wannabe musician Zafar (Ali Fazal), join in to get a foothold into a world where money comes from unexpected quarters. Joining them is a female gangster (Richa Chadda) whose Bholi Punjaban is eminently feline and sensual, wanton and immoral, cheesy and yet enchanting. Richa’s scenes with the naive and funny Choocha are among the funniest in the film. A close second are the scenes where Choocha is being put to sleep by his friends to dream up their riches. Such moments of unalloyed worth define a dark and depressing truth about why today’s 20-something ends up tied to a ceiling fan.

The unraveling of youthful avarice is played mostly at a flippant devil-may-care pitch. Not that Lamba’s direction forbids emotional leeway. There is a poignant moment in a dingy government hospital where the dreamer-musician Ali has to collect a urine sample from his father. The mirth melts into despair.

Watch the emotional and physical detailing here to know how diligently Lamba has crafted his tale of greed, male bonding, backstreet badmaashi, sunsplashed revelry, surreptitious romancing, and coming-of-age.

We have moved on from our fixation with ‘stars’ to explore talent that is refreshing and unique.

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